#bloody angel. another really fucking killer song

[phantombitemark]

I’m obsessed

[mychemicalnations]

Assigning a bunch of my characters Will Wood songs because my writing server enables my antics

This is going to be a long post, I apologize.

Not really

Blorbo Pandemic WIP

Baraphim Devorak - Misanthrapologist

You’re dangling a lantern Over the event horizon Thinking it’ll thank you For the light you’re sacrificing Bide time in orbit like a satellite Remind yourself The world don’t revolve ‘round you So don’t you revolve ‘round someone else

And, rock me Amadeus God don’t explain the way time and space made us Though with the wavelengths bending, it makes sense to me The only thing that’s meant to be is gravity And what comes up must go down

Sebastien Shadis - ¡Aikido! (Neurotic/Erotic)

Holding breath by graveyards, salt over my shoulder, I’m obsessed with you Rainbow-walking cave-heart never will be bolder, I’m obsessed with you Chickenscratch Rembrandts of your likeness, all this nonsense makes me think My insides cry “try thy finest” - why, then, am I at my brink?

Sebastien Vlastomil - ...And If I Did, You Deserved It

I want no less than the best but the best I can do Is do the worst thing first and leave the rest up to you I'm realistic Everyone's a critic If I keep beating myself up I'll keep on winning the fight And get my ass kicked I'm poisonous, not toxic I'll admit when I'm wrong but only to be right And if it fits in the song I'll rhyme that with contrived Don't meet your idols Hey, fuck you, I'm your idol But the only label that I'll sign is in the DSM5 'Cause my flaws are sorta on the pathological side Don't call me eccentric, call me mentally sick Cause I ain't sold enough tickets yet to be rich and that's the only difference

No Ethics Here (rp with @deadlier-than-i-look )

Vivienne Rose - Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!)

We’re only tuning to the tone of the bell curve now Ask not for whom it tolls But with my head up in the clouds, I can see so much ground And from up here you look like ants in a row It doesn’t take a killer to murder It only takes a reason to kill We’ve all got evidence of innocence, it’s "everything’s coincidence" The difference twixt fate and free will Is whether you’re singing

Silas Foster - Mr. Capgras Encounters a Secondhand Vanity: Tulpamancer's Prosopagnosia/Pareidolia (As Direct Result of Trauma to The Fusiform Gyrus)

Damn, I thought you’re not your imposter You’re so sure you’re not gonna get caught Dead in your own skin But you didn’t choose what you were born in And another man in your repertoire Ready in your head and fed upon your memoirs Still the same rules apply From the birthday to the mourning What you feel and what you do Are those things really you? And if not, then what is? (Never never never) So, my God, what’s wrong with you? And I’m still asking who that is Never, never, never Never, never, never Never, never, never No, never!

Genshin OCs

Aleks Rogov - BlackBoxWarrior - OKUltra

A bloody knife to split your infrastructure, wine to rev your motor function Coital machinations of the dead Well you mainline your animus, karate chop your abacus And learn to be an animal instead But I never did think you better than this, your modus operandi Causes Nazi/Skoptzyism and suicide Why to thine own self be true when it is you who are the problem Not the things you do but something sick inside Lithium and Dialectics, boy you really is defective CBT don’t seem effective for that Cluster B, accept it Offer up your innocence, please ignore the side effects You’ve lost your mind and almost lost your life before, so you’ll be fine

Fortune Bringer (Jiayi) - Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal, NY

Lumps in throats and petticoats Your baby teeth would pray for you A selfish book is always open And some of the best liars only want the truth All love starts as a scheme So, wake me up, I’m tired of sleeping They say that beauty’s just skin deep So obviously, please show me your Bones, bones, bones Let me see your bones Well, I don’t wanna know if the feeling follows home Bones, bones, bones Hell, we’re all alone If I come home, baby, will you show your bones?

Kalevi Maarinen - Love, Me Normally

If I could live in third person, well, I don’t think life would be much worse than it is In the current tense, presently, this sentence ending in question marks or dot, dot, dot Is it courageous or escapist to leave the quarantine when you’re contagious? It may just be a cold, and besides I don’t wanna get old, yeah I drank myself to death to be the afterlife of the party When the afterparty came, I was rolling in my grave

D&D/Pathfinder

Yesanith Olorona - Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave

Who makes the call? What’s a symptom, what’s a flaw, can it be both? Well I suppose that’s an answer Would you give up your humanity for just a touch of sanity? 'Cause God knows it’s not like it’s cancer And good news to the purists: they’ve discovered a cure for the symptoms of being alive It’s a painless procedure with a low rate of failure But very few patients survive And a little conformity never hurt nobody, but lately I’ve been worried that you’re losing yourself So how many milligrams of you are still left in there? 'Cause back in my day we didn’t need no feel-good pills and no psychiatrists No, we just bled out in our baths And god damn it, we liked it

Amrynn Yethana - RED MOON

Red, red moon, keep on rising The sunset soon indeed will bleed in my horizon The crescent rests, tethered to the west Waxing to the rhythm writhing in my chest That crack between the watercolor sky and sea is the Corner where you’re born in the mist I might deride the tide, 'cause I'm pulled as it pools around my feet Towards your stolen light, while I'm held in your slight gravity Well, I walk the equator, chasing the light; little do I know it orbits close behind I might remember or might assume, but I only turn around every once In a red, red moon I said I only turn around every once in a red, red, moon

Aranyth Inamaris - (Cover This Song) A Little Bit Mine

I never thought, and if I did, I forgot while blacked out in-love That’s what’s only starting would come to an end But now I’m hungover and hung out to dry, and I’m giving it time Does not knowing the truth turn my words into lies? What can I say to convince you or do to make you agree with me? I don’t need you to be with me, just try to remember what you’d see in me I’m just a little bit crazy about you Just a little bit out of my mind Just a little insane without you Please come back and be just a little bit mine Just a little bit mine

Tarron Olaric - When Somebody Needs You [Song]

So we come and we go, we know and are known There's too many people to trust Well, it seems to me what we want and we need are the same And that's someone who'll worry about us 'Til death do us part, please keep breaking my heart 'Til it ceases to beat, please be mine Well it seems that that's what it means When somebody Ohh So if love conquers all, then all else must have failed I mean, who wants to fall, can't we just take the stairs? Well it seems that that's what it means When somebody needs you It seems that that's what it means When somebody needs you

Other

Eila Saarinen - Yes, To Err is Human, So Don't Be One. (Song)

I could drink your blood if you let me, baby Hang from your rafters, patchwork and paisley I could suck you dry on the rocks with a twist But just like a vampire, I don't exist Walkie-talkie static, white noise telepath Can you read between the Morse code lines? Dead from the neck up, but living just enough To beg you, "pretty boy, please, let me die" Well, I could drink your blood if you let me, baby Drain you of your love until you hate me

If you've read this far, blame @zonnemaagd <3

[ugh-againwiththenames]

A Musical Social Experiment...Destiel.

Alright, so I thought to myself, while playing along with @thenightwemetnatural​‘s Destiel song picks, that despite my musical tastes, and them tending typically (although not exclusively) towards the Metal genres, that EVERY song can in some way, be paralleled to Destiel. This is such a ridiculous experiment, and I apologize, but I’m at the cottage, and it’s fucking pouring with rain, so let’s play…

Here are the rules: take your Music library and throw it on Shuffle – every song that comes on for an hour(ish), connect it to Destiel...(below the cut for my results).

You can access the playlist here (if you have any interest in listening along!). I am not going to necessarily describe every possible connection - I think that a lot of them are SUPER obvious...like *eyes rolling out of my head* obvious...

In the End – Black Veil Brides – Well we’re off to a hell of a start, as this song from start to finish screams Destiel and sacrifice. In the end As my soul's laid to rest What is left of my body Or am I just a shell? And I have fought And with flesh and blood I commanded an army Through it all I have given my heart for a moment of glory Who will remember this last goodbye 'Cause it's the end and I'm not afraid I'm not afraid to die A Modern Way - The Exies – only on song 2, and it’s once again, really hard to cut out any of this song, as the repeating “I’m bound by my insecurities” SCREAMS Dean at me.

I’m Bound by my insecurities

Open your eyes and Throw your arms around me I need the right not to fight To breathe

Swallow the lies I'm the one to blame Having no voice left to choose Am i so blind, feeling justified When i'm alone and confused

Brother – NEEDTOBREATHE – I have to laugh…as I added this after watching Jensen sing this at a Con (for J*red), and no lie, I’m in LOVE with it, but it’s somehow now determinably connected to the brothers for me but I can/WILL draw the lines here…EASY.

Everybody needs someone beside em’ shining like a lighthouse from the sea Face down in the desert now there’s a cage locked around my heart I found a way to drop the keys where my failures were Now my hands can’t reach that far I ain’t made for a rivalry I could never take the world alone I know that in my weakness I am strong, but It’s your love that brings me home Summoners Rift – Dangerkids – Um. Well. The first line of this song just made me laugh out loud.

There's no room for martyrs in a dying scene Well I'm not quite dead I'm something in between

And if I had another chance I would tell you

I guess I'm not afraid of what comes after We are the only ones We stand alone in the dark

Question everything you blindly follow Truth's a bitter pill, it's hard to swallow You think you're winning but your time is borrowed We are the only ones We stand alone in the dark

Royal Beggars - Architects - I mean…the repetition of my sentiments is going to get a bit silly…so i will not. read on...

All hope is dead, but we're coping

Somebody save our souls

Like a bird in a cage, trying to fly away Is this the price that we have to pay? Overflowing with rage, yet we still obey 'Cause we're asleep in a hurricane

We sit on a throne, waiting for God to bend the knee But we're nothing more than royal beggars

Edge of your Bed - Thousand Below - “why’d you have to go and keep calling out my name” Calling out my name” pure purgatory “where’s the ANGEL” “I prayed to you Cas, Every night” The rest of the next verse is also poignant, very Dean again “where I can only feel peace when the wave hits”, “and I’ve become what I thought was wrong, I love the feeling when it feels too strong”.  

Why'd you have to go and keep calling out my name? Calling out my name

I found sorrow at the edge of your bed

Is it now a bad habit? Where I can only feel peace when the wave hits And I've become what I thought was wrong I love the feeling when it feels too strong

Animals – Siamese - “It takes a killer that thinks he’s a saint, it takes believing to be this insane” – well. yes. ok. 

Shattered not broken We stand our feet Houses rebuild on These bloody streets I fill my lungs into this beat With closed eyes we're hoping for remedy

It takes a killer That thinks he's a saint It takes believing To be this insane

Spineless Crow - Hands Like Houses

We were young together but I've grown ancient Cracked and weathered and filled with regret Waiting to sink, rushing to sink in my sleep

The realization sinks in through the skin Like a disease, a blight inside of me Missing your touch, your weight on my fingers

My Underworld - Tonight Alive

Now we sail into deep blue storm clouds Overhead now, strangely I feel at peace as I dive into My underworld, world I dive into my underworld, world Down in these depths I'm adding up the numbers Of all I've suffered in past lives, tied down in the darkness Finally I begin to learn what I've returned tonight Time has come to begin again, leave something else behind

Ever After - Marianas Trench - All this talk of being someone’s disaster – Welp! Hello!

Don't you move Can't you stay where you are, just for now I could be your perfect disaster You could be my ever after

Apologies, I'm not myself but I can guarantee That when I get back, you won't believe That you knew me well Don't want to think about it

I'm fuckin' tired of getting sick about it Now stand back up and be a man about it And fight for something, fight for something, fight for something Nobody told ya this is gonna fold ya We go marching in like toy soldiers To have and hold ya over sold ya They’re marching like toy soldiers I'll be your disaster, ever after So fire away Goodbye

Room 138 - Asking Alexandria - While this song is clearly actually about an overdose of some kind, it’s parallels shockingly well to the post confession scene.   So these are the walls that have to hold this moment Somebody hear me, someone open up the door Get me up off of this floor and stop the shaking, the shaking Through the haze I saw a face A second chance, another life to live How did you forgive me? Held my head against your chest Told me everything's alright, don't be afraid Close your eyes and rest

Witness – Daughtry

Does it feel like you're just wasting time Here without a reason or a rhyme The answer you've been looking for Is standing right before your weary eyes And if the weight of the world is on you now But you know you can turn it all around again How Many Walls - Rise Against  - Guys, seriously, I’m not even going there...How many years have we wasted….how many walls can you put up? How many guns til you feel safe? This is a song about war – this is Rise Against, this is purely political and somehow can STILL be pulled together with Destiel.

 How many walls can you put up?

How many guns 'til you feel safe? How many times can we watch this story Over and over and over again? And how many years have we wasted Counting the lies that we've been fed? For something to change we have waited Over and over and over again Pray – Picturesque - Nope. Don’t even need a description here. Once again this is FAR TOO OBVIOUS!

I should pray a little more and think a little less The devils in my head and he won't let me rest Everyday just like the last since you up and left I should pray a little more, I shouldn't pray for death I Knew You Were Trouble – We Came as Romans (Swift Cover) - SwiftNatural is a thing for a reason… 

It's like a kaleidoscope of memories. It just all comes back. But he never does. I knew his world moved too fast and burned too bright. But I just thought, how can the devil be pulling you toward someone who looks so much like an angel

I think that the worst part of it all wasn't losing him. It was losing me. Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago I was in your sights, you got me alone You found me

I knew you were trouble when you walked in (you were right there, you were right there) So shame on me now Flew me to places I'd never been Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground Texas Is Forever - Pierce the Veil – lack of communication anyone? I don’t know, do we know anyone like that? If anything should happen to me I want you to know, I’ve loved you since ever…

Here we are If anything should happen to me I want you to know I've loved you since ever since then Don't dance around me I know what it means No communication, cannot be received But I'm such a sucker for the rain, yeah Oh, here we are Butterfly - Wearing Scars – the Butterfly/Angel parallel alone…go with it.

Seems we're alone We're fixated Just waiting for something As time goes by And when we're way up high We'll look back down with different eyes Let's take our time Awake this life So spread your wings And take my hand Tonight will be the end

With Grace - The Weight of Atlas

This place looks like hell to me I cast myself into the sea Picked up my conscience and left my disease I don't know, I don't know if I can make it through this storm Keep your eyes shut it will be okay. Will we make it out alive? Will we make it out alive. When all you have is hope I will be your anchor I know that I can let you down But I swear I'll pick up the pieces. And be reborn again I Always Wanted to Leave - The Plot In You

I guess it's a shame I'm so damn destructive And you're so reluctant to mean what you say The way you act so abused The things you confuse You know I always wanted to leave "Hello... You can sing, I'm here And I love you more than anyone or anything With all my heart."

Unsteady - X Ambassadors – just a stay parallel. Don’t leave, don’t let go. If you love me. Don’t let go. #I haz the sads.

Hold on to me 'Cause I'm a little unsteady If you love me Don't let go Bury Me Alive - Normandie – pick a line – ANY LINE!!! 

I guess I'm not going to heaven now I got caught in the chase Now I'm falling from grace But I never stood a chance Could've given me a sign I'd be giving you blind obedience Mantra – Bring Me The Horizon Before the truth will set you free, it will piss you off Before you find a place to be, you're gonna lose the plot Too late to tell you now, one ear and right out the other one 'Cause all you ever do is chant the same old mantra Could I have your attention, please? It's time to tap into your tragedy Think you could use a new abuser Close your eyes and listen carefully Imagine you're stood on a beach Water gently lapping at your feet And now you're sinking, what were you thinking? That's all the time we have this week

Oh Lord - In This Moment – cutting any of this out was actually hard. Cas, my love, are you there?

Oh Lord won't you save me Save me from my soul Oh Lord won't you forgive me For I have lost control Oh Lord won't you tell me Am I the righteous or the damned? Oh Lord won't you please hear me Do I obey or do I command? Oh Lord please forgive me For what I'm about to do Oh Lord won't you believe me I'll burn in hell for you Oh Lord won't you teach me Teach me how to see Oh Lord tell me you love me Am I Lillith or am I Eve?

Bleeding is a Luxury - Atreyu

I’ve talked the talk, I've walked the walk, It's taken ten fucking years, For them to see I don't need their approval. I've paid the piper, I've stayed my course, Lived chomping at the bit. With only blood, sweat, and tears to adhere to- Take it for granted, Forsake the costs, Wear a big, shit-eating grin (with only blood, sweat, and tears to adhere to) Now bear the burden to chase your fate Grind your teeth 'til it fucking hurts So they can see I don't need their approval. Seize the day, Take your beatings, Lead the way, Or decay as you fall down... You fall down.

Would you Still be There - Of Mice & Men – wow, this song in full. All of it. I can’t.

If I could find the words, if I could shake the world, If I could turn back time would you still be there? I can't stop thinking about the way I left you sinking with no escape. Now there's no lifeline, no way to save. But maybe next time I won't throw it all away. Dislocated, I lie awake Suffocating in my mistakes. I lost my halo when I fell from grace, But maybe next time I won't throw it all away. I ask myself everyday... If I could find the words, if I could shake the world, If I could turn back time would you still be there? If I could find the words to say, If I could shake the world to break you down, Then would you still be there?

The Broken - 3 Doors Down 

This is the call to the broken, the broken Take it from me. They don't care if you're lonely. As you can see, They don't care if you're scared. Your heart Is the only friend you have in this whole world. Don't start, Think you can do this yourself. I know what you're thinking. You say you're tired of keeping score, keeping score. Trust me, You're not the only one going through this. You see, I've been through this before, this before.

Wow, I Hate This Song - The Used – this one took a little imagination – hardest one so far – because it really is just about hating a song! So we’re HC’ing the Zepp track that reminds Dean most of Cas, post Empty.

Every time I hear the key I see you in the melody It never was a part of me Heart feels like it's being stabbed Kills me emotionally Dirty Little Secret - Bullet For My Valentine – let’s take this back to – take your pick…Leviathan!Cas, Godstiel, Casifer, any of the times that Cas did the wrong thing for the right reasons…and did not tell his boy. 

There once was a time Where everything was just so perfect Now everything has changed And you've become a total stranger I've seen another side to you I never even knew existed Dirty little secrets, dirty little secrets Giving in to your primal instincts There once was a time When anything I do is for you But everything has changed And I've become a lonely prisoner I'd kill, even die for you You never even tried resisting

Kill Plan - Parabelle

I'm sitting stunned just like a lesson I never learned Made of emotions and mistakes And what you say Leaves me lost and in the way And that's the place you stay Remember silence Now we're painted into corners So we can watch the world get sold out Hold me closer don't let the sun in Hold me closer don't let the sun in Cuz the setting sun feels like a cage Don't let me defend the kill plan

Roman Sky – Avenged Sevenfold – This song only has a few lyrics, but we can definitely make them work.

As the embers rose through the Roman Sky Tell me, were you calm when they took your life? Just before you go, tell us how the heavens flow Weightless evermore, as you walk beyond that door Shine forever true To Those Left Behind – blessthefall – these boys might be my favourite band ever, but these are ANGRY lyrics – these are about betrayal.  This is a relationship gone wrong. I feel these best work with the divorce arc, the Angry Dean that we see, or Dean’s mood after any of the “Cas fucked up again” moments. You found me at my worst When I was far too weak to grow In spite of all my fears And how I may have lost my way Only now I know the truth

Awake and coming clean

If you can't sleep It's your conscience That's eating away At the mess you made So let's end this Sew this last stitch Lift this weight off my chest I'll put you to rest The past should stay dead

How did we find ourselves here? Haunted by our own design With everything that's come to pass Makes it harder to confine

[consumedkings-archive]

ancient names, pt. xvii

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt xvii: what the wolves taught me

Masterlink Post

Word Count: ~6.9k  

Rating: Explicit.

Warnings: mentions of gore and blood, like a LOT of mentions of blood, mentions of self-harm, shower sex without Reasonable Protection, also like kind of dubious if you squint because John is tripping, bad decisions are made as well as some questionable dirty talk (John really likes that she beat a man to death). Elliot kind of has like one (1) tiny power trip. Idk man just like proceed with caution??

Notes: A little bit of an interlude chapter, this one! Last chap was a bit intense, so this one's more of a transition--not a lot happens in terms of plot movement, so everyone can go ahead and catch your breath. ♡ As always, a big and huge thank you to everyone who reads and comments, has come and said hi to me on my tumblr. This fandom has been so incredibly lovely and welcoming and just understanding of my general chaos and my inability to bend to canon at all. I'm just so grateful to each and every one of you! Thank you thank you thank you!

Big thank you to @shallow-gravy for lending me their eyeballs and for making me this GORGEOUS moodboard for Elliot. When I say that I like died inside when I saw it, it's because my life became complete and I was ready to ascend. Thank you so much!!

And of course my angel @starcrier, my lover my life my shawty my wife, who proofreads all my garbage even though she doesn’t even go here but she goes here for me! ILY ♡

As always, I hope you enjoy and thank you again!  ♡

John felt pretty good, all things considered.

Yeah, he was probably going to feel like shit when came off of his high; yeah, kissing Elliot did smear blood all over his mouth, but when he spotted the two of them in the reflection of the truck’s dark windows, Elliot’s face and hair splattered in crimson and the very obvious incrimination on his mouth, he thought, well, don’t we make quite a pair?

Everything blurred and pulsed pleasantly around him now as he sat in the passenger seat of the truck. The crash of the drug wasn’t really much of a crash at all—idly, John wondered how it was they got the downturn to be so easy, so slow, so mild. Each time he took in a breath it felt like the car expanded with him. There wasn’t anything the world, in that moment, that wasn’t for him, not a single thing that didn’t sway and pulse and beat in time with the rhythm of his own heart.

Except for Elliot. When he looked at her, red sparked off of her in violent waves to their own metronome, mimicking the dashes of crimson on her face and in her hair; the bruises welled red and blue along the pillar of her throat, her jaw, one on the corner of her mouth. She looked wild; her eyes moved with a sharp clarity that had him wondering how long that Wrath had really been sitting inside of her.

Not a good girl, he thought, watching Elliot drag her thumb from one end of her mouth to the other, wiping the blood their liplock had smeared around. He could still taste it in his mouth. Not anymore.

You couldn’t be good and bash a man’s skull in, could you? And it was bashed in—John had gotten one single good, long look at Kian’s face, and there was nothing of it left except bloody mush and two battered eyeballs barely stuffed into his skull. Gruesome. Well past the point of killing him.

“They attacked the compound,” Jacob was saying from the driver’s seat, pulling out onto the highway with a not-so-kind lurch as they hit pavement. “About an hour after you took off. I bet they were waiting. Fucking cockroaches.”

John glanced into the rearview mirror. He meant to look and see if he could catch any movement in the trees—anything that wasn’t Eden’s Gate—but he just looked at Elliot. Sharp-eyed, bloodied, fingers knotted into Boomer’s fur as the dog lay with his head in her lap. It wouldn’t have done any good, looking back there; everything was moving. Everything was breathing.

“Drugged me,” he offered helpfully, his tongue feeling a little too big for his mouth. Jacob looked at him through the sides of his eyes and hit the cruise button. “Got a radio back, too. I tried calling you guys, but—”

“But not Elliot,” Jacob said, less a question and more a confirmation of what he believed to be true. John shrugged idly.

His eldest brother glanced back at Elliot then, but she was silent for two heartbeats longer than what it should have taken for her to answer before she replied, “Wouldn’t have been fun for him if I was.”

“Yeah, well,” the redhead muttered. “You sure made...” His voice trailed off, and his eyes fixed on the road again. “... Work of him, didn’t you, deputy?”

Elliot sighed. That Jacob said you made work instead of you made quick work made John painfully, delightfully aware of how many times and how much effort it must have taken for Elliot to cave Kian’s face in, and that knowledge writhed pleasant and desirous in his stomach.

But Jacob didn’t sound pleased. John supposed that he wouldn’t be, all things considered. Kian was dead, sure, but the rest of the Family had almost certainly scattered like rats to whatever corner of Hope County they could reach. They would be a problem. By now, they were all supposed to be hunkering down in the bunker to outlast the End Days, and instead, they were contesting with an entirely different pest.

Maybe Elliot was right; maybe without Ase and Kian, they would just leave. Go and kill some other tiny town of people. Get their skin melted off by the nuclear war.

In fact, if John really thought about it—and it did take work—he didn’t think that the Family was much of a problem at all anymore. The only thing that remained questionable, and up in the air, was Elliot herself.

My wife, he thought, his brain ticking and idling like an engine cooling down, wading through the neck-high water of his thoughts. Each leap from one thread to the next felt sugary-slow. Little killer, aren’t you?

He didn’t think that she would be content with hunkering down in a bunker. That would take some time to warm up to, probably—and, John reasoned, he would have to first broach the subject of their legal binding. But that was another problem, for another time, and right now all John wanted to think about was getting home and enjoying his high while he had it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Elliot was very young, she remembered coming across a snake coiled on the hot pavement of the path up to their front door. It had been after school; her mother had had the windows of the kitchen open, playing an old song, something about a dream, and she could hear it from all the way down at the road. The snake was basking—drinking in the sunlight, mottled in shades of brown and copper, flecks of white highlighting the prettiest parts of it. The snake had been a dream to a girl who ran wild and barefoot through every inch of the Hope County wilderness she could reach; the speckled pattern begging for a touch, it’s elegant coil beckoning for attention.

The window to the kitchen had been open, and the second her mother had seen her staring at the snake, she’d come sprinting out the front door. Her mother had never liked any kind of animal that didn’t have four legs and wouldn’t fall under the “fluffy retriever” category, so at first, she had thought it was just her mother’s aversion to the scaly members of the animal kingdom; but after her mother’s insistent shrieking that she give the rattler a wide berth on the way up to the front steps, she’d thought maybe it was actual danger worrying her mother.

Of course, Scarlet had called the sheriff’s office and immediately demanded someone come and get rid of the snake (even though you weren’t supposed to call the sheriff’s office for that kind of thing, there was animal control) while she made herself a vodka soda.

“He’s pretty, mama,” Elliot had said, staring out the window at the snake. “Did you see his spots?”

“Pretty.” Scarlet had never sounded more displeased. She squeezed her lime into her drink, muttering furiously. “All those spots mean that ugly thing would kill you with one bite, bunny. Do you hear me? Venomous. Stay away from it.”

Now, sitting in the back seat of an Eden’s Gate truck, her face mottled with a dead man’s arterial spray, she felt like that prairie rattler, her spots belying a poison and vicious bite.

Pretty, she thought tiredly, combing her fingers through Boomer’s fur. Pretty venomous.

Her gaze drifted absently, away from the landscape blurring past them as Jacob cruised back to the compound and instead onto the occupants of the car. John was leaned back in his seat, eyes fluttering shut occasionally like he couldn’t keep them open very well, and Jacob had a tight grip on the steering wheel. A pack of cigarettes sat in one of the cupholders in the center console, and she reached for them on autopilot.

Jacob’s gaze flickered down to her hand snaking between them. For a second, he looked like he’d been about to grab her hand, like maybe he thought she was trying something—but his fingers stayed on the steering wheel, and he said, “Probably a lighter in the console.”

Elliot snagged the cigarettes and then fished around in the console until she found the lighter. The cotton fabric of Ase’s high-necked dress felt sticky on her skin, like she was in the middle of a summer storm; chill seeped down into her bones, and her skin bloomed feverish, and she thought this is when the crash happens, but it didn’t hit. She lit a cigarette and rolled the window down before she took a drag and felt the tiredness pull at the corners of her vision.

The song from her memory played on a gentle loop in her head. Leisurely, lulling. So dream, when the day is new; dream, and they might come true. Her mother had listened to that song so many times, growing up. She wondered, briefly, if her mother was alright. If she’d gotten out. If she’d gone with the resistance and fled, or if she was still here somewhere, or if she was dead.

“Anyone get hurt?” she asked after a minute. “At the compound?”

“A few,” Jacob replied. His eyes narrowed. “None dead, though.”

Elliot exhaled smoke out the window. She thought she would have felt dirty, now, sticky with Kian’s breath and his fingers and his mouth against her skin—but she didn’t, not right away. She just felt—

“Sure that’s disappointing for you,” Jacob continued.

—tired.

“Eat shit, Jacob,” she muttered. “I just solved your biggest problem.”

“No, you didn’t,” he snapped back. “Not by a long fucking mile, deputy.”

The redhead eyed her through the mirror, but she didn’t say anything to that—and for the rest of the ride back to the compound, it was blissful, empty silence.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

John thought he must have certainly fallen asleep in the car, because one second he was blinking through Jacob talking about how the compound had been attacked, and the next they were parking.

The compound looked a little worse for wear, but it was quiet; if not for the bullet holes in the walls of buildings, and the occasional blood spray dried nearly black with time, he wouldn’t have known anything was amiss at all. He would have thought it was a regular evening—but was far from it.

At the very least, John felt a little clearer now. His high was slowly cruising down, and he’d probably feel all of his bruises once he sobered up, but for now he buzzed.

Jacob climbed out of the driver’s seat beside him, and his body operated on autopilot to do the same. He saw Boomer drop from the truck and stick his nose to the ground instantly, eyes wary and waiting to see if any danger still lurked. When Elliot’s feet touched the ground, the Heeler did a single loop around her legs and then nosed her hand.

“John,” his brother said, his voice clipped. “Chapel.”

“Right,” John replied. He glanced over his shoulder and then looked at Elliot; she took in a little breath and waved her hand.

“Gonna shower,” she told him. “I’m good.”

John reached for her, fingers itching; Elliot caught his wrist before his hand could land on her shoulder, or her face, but she used it to pull him closer, and then she kissed him—leaned up and pressed her mouth, tasting like wild copper and a little like ash, against his. John’s brain fizzed white static and he sighed against her kiss, and he was reminded of how electric she had felt back there in the forest with the buzz of her kill still sitting under her skin.

“John,” Jacob insisted, louder this time, “now.”

“Okay,” John said, but he said it into the kiss, sliding his hand from Elliot’s grasp. “Okay, I’m—”

And like that she had pulled away from him; she whistled for Boomer and set off across the yard for the bunkhouse, and he turned and forced his legs to move towards the chapel. I’m good, she’d said. What did she mean? What did “good” constitute?

His brain felt too muggy for him to contemplate whether or not he was spiraling on a thought because it had some other meaning or because he was high, so he just pushed aside as he walked into the chapel, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Joseph was there, sitting beside Faith; their heads bowed in silence, only disturbed when the sound of his and Jacob’s footsteps echoed in the quiet.

“You’re safe,” Joseph said, sounding relieved. As John came closer, his older brother lifted an arm; beckoning him, and he went instantly. Joseph’s hand cradled the back of his head and pressed their foreheads together in an embrace that was far softer than anything that had occurred between them as of late. It felt like John’s entire body sighed in relief. “We were so worried, John.”

“And high as shit,” Jacob replied as they neared. “Tripping fuckin' balls, aren’t you, Johnny?”

“It’s fine,” John insisted, though he could hear the words slur a little even as he tried very hard to punctuate them on their way out of his mouth. “Not so bad.”

“You look awful,” Faith murmured. “What happened?”

“Um,” he said.

“Kian’s dead,” Jacob explained helpfully.

Joseph blinked. His expression was guarded, but hopeful. “Good news, then.”

“Deputy Honeysett bashed his skull in with a shotgun.”

Faith said, “Oh.”

A moment of silence stretched between them. Jacob paced to the front of the chapel; Joseph absently scratched at his cheek, his hand having withdrawn from John as he took in this news from his brothers. John tried not to shift too much, but the silence was killing him—he didn’t know how Joseph was going to feel about that. If he would still want Elliot with them.

“Was she?” Joseph asked after a minute. “Drugged?”

“No,” John said. “Not—I mean, she said she wasn't.”

“So she did it on her own,” he continued, “without being influenced by anything that could arguably… Cause a hallucination which would make her do that.”

“I—” John’s brain struggled to keep up with Joseph’s train of thought. “I—guess—”

“This is good news, then.” Joseph’s voice bloomed with warmth. “Don’t you see? There is no person more in need of us,” he continued, “than someone who has nowhere left to go.”

“And where would she go,” Jacob muttered, “that wouldn’t commit her to a psychiatric ward.”

Joseph nodded. His hand returned to the back of John’s neck and gripped there, firm and steadfast.

“You’ve done so well, John,” he said, “but our time is running out. You know that, don’t you? We are borrowing it now, from God himself, and I don’t intend to go into the next phase of our lives with a debt to pay.”

John blinked through the fog in his brain and swallowed thickly. He thought he knew what it was that Joseph was telling him—but before he could think too hard on it, Jacob interjected, “John hasn’t told the deputy about their blissful union.”

“What?” Faith asked, head snapping to look at him.

“Well,” John began.

“Actually,” Jacob continued, “he lied about it.”

“Well,” John tried again, irritably, “it had already been done, and she didn’t remember it thanks to Faith’s handiwork, and at the moment in time I thought—maybe—it would be worse off to tell her rather than…”

He fumbled for the words he wanted to say; the truth was that there were no good excuses. He just didn’t trust Elliot not to go absolutely feral when she found out, because she certainly didn’t remember it which meant she certainly was going to have feelings about it. And that was a problem.

But a problem for another time. Right?

“You’re gonna stick us in a bunker with her,” Jacob snapped, “and let her lose her shit on us while we’re trapped.”

“I won’t,” John insisted.

Joseph exhaled softly. “John—”

“I’ll—I’ve got it under control!” he exclaimed, looking at Joseph. “I know Elliot better than any of you, and I’ll find the right way to tell her, and it’ll be fine. I know.”

His older brother watched him with a pensive gaze. For a moment, John thought he saw regret flash across Joseph’s face—maybe for praising him too fast, maybe for entrusting this to him at all in the first place. But if he let someone down, that wasn’t his fault, right? This shit was so far beyond the plan of attack—so far beyond what they had anticipated, that there was a margin for error.

No, John thought, no, there isn’t. I know better. I’m better. I know.

“Borrowed time, John,” Joseph cautioned at last. “We’ve got to get rid of these locusts, and then we will be retreating for the End. You understand?”

John steadied the breath that tried to slip out of him. I don’t want to go into the next phase of our lives with a debt to pay.

“Yes, Joseph,” he replied. “I understand.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The stinging shower water ran pink to the drain. Elliot dunked her head under the water and passed her hands over her face; she stood there for a moment letting the water pool in the cups of her hands until her lungs ached and she had to let it go, spilling over her neck and shoulders. The dark dress, wretched thing, had been discarded and tossed into the trash; she thought if she had to look at herself in it for one more second she was going to come fucking undone, and that just wouldn't do.

The door clicked open; a brief moment of hesitation sounded before she heard footsteps coming inside. “El?”

She turned in the shower, wiping water from her eyes before tugging the curtain back. John regarded her with eyes only half-intoxicated, more clarity about them now than there had been in the truck.

Elliot watched him for a moment as she considered. The chill hadn't left her bones, even in the scalding hot water.

“Are you getting in?” she asked, watching his gaze flicker absently before landing back on her.

“Are you inviting me?”

Elliot pulled back from the curtain and ducked back under the water. “I’ve never known you to need an invite.”

“Fair enough, I won't disappoint.”

There was the gentle rustle of fabric, the push of the curtain, and then she wasn’t alone in the shower anymore; but it was fine, because she didn’t want to be alone anymore, because it felt like her entire body was vibrating and she couldn’t get it to stop. Unlike John, who she guessed was cruising down the same gentle crash that she had felt when the Family had drugged her with their weird shit, there was nothing inhibiting her body now. Only the quick, sharp, violent buzzing of blood on her mind, under her fingernails, between her teeth.

It felt good, too. An adrenaline high; the fall, right before impact.

John’s hands slid along her hips. The calloused pads of his fingers—fingers meant to hurt, to twist and coerce—skimmed the scars along her abdomen, sloping across her hip bones; she didn’t have to glance down to see that’s what he was doing. You’ll tell me, he’d said that morning. Eventually.

“I did them,” she said around the dull roaring in her ears. The words tasted strange on her tongue. A verbal admittance was very different from scribbling it into a journal. But the catharsis had begun; with Kian’s collapsed skull imprinted into her mind forever, it felt as though a tension had released in her, pulled taut and sharp and finally ripped free.

“Did what?” he asked, nosing past wet hair to glide his mouth along the pillar of her throat.

“The scars,” Elliot murmured. “I did them.” To feel real, she wanted to say, I did them so I could know that I was still real, but the words wouldn’t come. Maybe they didn’t need to.

John’s thumb swept along the one that stretched over her hip bone. He hummed, low and hungry, into her skin. He might have been coming down from his high, but it didn’t seem to be pushing him into sleep; he was enjoying it, the gentle careening to sobriety.

And maybe tomorrow she would regret telling him. Maybe tomorrow she would feel dirty for the way that she killed Kian, instead of intoxicated with her own magic. Maybe, maybe, maybe—but that was a thing to think about when the time came, and just like she had done everything else about herself that she hadn't liked, she would strangle it and move on.

John turned her around so that he could pull her against him. He said, “I thought so,” like he had recognized it in her, and she thought about that dream. Just like me, holding her blood-covered hands in his. You’re just like me.

Lifting her arms, Elliot carded her fingers through his hair and then gripped, pulling him in to press her mouth against his. She kissed him the way that she wanted to; no time for shyness now, she thought, no room for hesitation. John had watched her cave a man’s face in, and he was still here and hungry, so she kissed him hard—dug her teeth into his lip and revelled in the way that he moaned and leaned into her.

He’d kissed her frantically, too, back in the clearing and with Kian’s body just a foot away from them. Kissed her with blood in her mouth, greedy and insatiable, and frenzied, like he’d wanted her right then and there and wasn’t willing to let her go until he absolutely had to.

The raised skin of his Sloth scar dragged under her fingers. She dug her nails into the soft expanse of his shoulder, and he made a low, delicious noise against her mouth. I could give him more, she thought, dizzied at the idea of it, at this sudden humming, heady power she felt had become hers. This something that had become unlocked inside of her. I could give him more, and he’d thank me for it.

“Elliot,” John began, hands gripping her hips as he nudged her back against the shower wall. But he didn’t follow it up with anything; he just kept her there, skin on skin, heat bleeding out from every inch of him. His hand drifted up above her head, fumbling at the window, trying to push it open. “Fuck, it’s so fucking—hot in here—”

I want to be yours. I want a home with you.

Briefly, she wondered if that dream had been as wishful as she’d thought. John had been exactly what she wanted him to be—just the color, just the shape, everything in him built to lure her and keep her there like the most perfect predator. It was easy to forget that she had never known that she wanted a man whose hair was dark and his eyes a little cruel until she had looked at John Seed. But now it was impossible to ignore; she pressed to him, craved him, this delicious anchor of hers.

He could be cruel, if he wanted—he’d considered drowning her to death. He’d been greedy to mark her skin forever with her sin. He’d littered his body with markings and scars, testaments to his devotion, just like he had done every other conversion.

Yes, she thought absently, against the stifling heat of the stinging shower and John’s own radiating warmth, feverish from the hallucinogen seeping out of him. He is cruel. But maybe I—

And then he murmured, against her ear, “Want you,” hazy and buzzing and warm. His fingers slid down between them, gliding along the curve of where she most wanted his attention, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. He buried his face into her neck and sighed, pressing into her and eliciting in her a spark that traveled straight down her spine; and then, almost as though he wasn’t thinking too hard about it: “Would’ve—back in the forest—”

He cut himself off and his movements stilled, just for a second. Elliot tilted her head to look at him through her eyelashes and canted her hips to gain some friction against the heel of his palm; she wasn't bothering anymore to stifle the stuttered, half-breath-half-whimper that came out of her as slick pleasure pooled in her stomach, the feeling of his fingers dragging a delicious, heady burn through her. 

Elliot heard him swallow back a sound over the white noise of the shower. It was a wicked kind of thing, this watching John as she leaned down into him; watching the muscle in his jaw tense and flex just before he beckoned his fingers against her and bit out a swear between his teeth when her body tensed and arched prettily into his touch. Needy and wanting; just the way that he liked, she was sure.

“Would’ve what?” she prompted breathlessly. John’s lashes, long and darker still from the shower spray, flickered. He seemed to be weighing it in his head, the pros and cons of what he had been going to say, but Elliot was no longer in a place of wanting to wobble. No floating, no drifting between ethereal and corporeal—she didn’t want to have to wonder, to have to piece together what it was he was thinking with the crumbling threads she could scoop up.

He didn't answer her; instead, he dragged his mouth along the slope of her neck, teeth digging against her pulse point. Elliot moaned, choking the noise halfway out of her spitefully, because she wanted him to earn it, and he did it again—harder this time, less like he was testing and more like he knew that she wanted it. The sting rippled heady anticipation straight to her brain, sparking through that hazy fog in her mind.

She sighed, "John," just as he dragged his fingers out slowly, torturously slowly, not enough to give her even half the friction she wanted and not so little that it didn’t make her suffer in the best sort of way. As soon as they didn’t return, but rather traveled the expanse of her abdomen, a quiet complaint slipped out of her; John kissed her, his tongue gliding against hers, his teeth nipping and biting as he dragged her leg up around his hip.

Everything felt like it was happening between breaths, between heartbeats, her pulse moving so sluggishly it was lava spreading through her body. Stifling, so hot, too hot, too much, but John’s mouth over hers pushed and pulled the breath out of her, guided the currents of her like the moon. Elliot tried again, giving the words more punch on their way out, “You would’ve what?”

She thought that she knew what he was going to say, and she wanted to hear him say it, that he would’ve—

“Fucked you,” John managed out hoarsely, just as he rocked into her. “God, I—”

Yes, she thought; the word left her mouth in something close to an exhale, and she didn’t know if she was responding to what he’d said or to the way it felt like he’d set a wildfire going racing along her skeleton the second they connected. He managed out a half-moaned swear and shifted into a slower, more leisurely paced as he sighed, “I would’ve, El— fuck , you’re so tight— ”

Pleasure wrenched in her stomach and writhed, hot and wicked. John’s pace was halting; he was trying not to go too fast or too hard even though he wanted to, but then he said things like how he wanted to fuck her while she was covered in blood and—

And she felt seen, and wanted, and she thought this must have been how they did it: took all of the grit and gore of someone and worshipped it, like something holy.

Biggest fucking Peggy-killer this side of Hope County, he’d spat at her that day they’d found Waylon’s body. But now? Now, it was all, so tight, El, want you, would’ve fucked you right there.

His hands grazed the bruises on her body before stopping at her hips again. He pulled back to get a good look at her, and then reached up, cradling her jaw with his left hand and dragging the pad of his thumb across her lip. A thrill crawled up her spine, hot and searing and latching onto her; she thought, this magic is mine now, too, and she parted her lips obediently to drag him into her mouth just so she could watch John just about come unglued.

And never before had she felt like this, wicked with John’s eyes blown wide and dark with want as his gaze fixed on her mouth and moaned, “God, Elliot—”

She wanted to forget about Kian’s hands on her body, his mouth on her skin, his words ringing in her head. So she did; she indulged in the feeling of John’s breath trembling as her tongue flickered against the pad of his thumb and the way he hissed as his pace changed. 

“Should have,” Elliot managed out when his thumb slipped from her mouth so that he could press his hand against the wall by her head. She said it between dizzying, radiating pleasure dragging through her body, devouring her, dragging her further and further toward the edge. “Should have—fucked me then, John, I—”

“F-Fuck.” The swear left his mouth wrecked, his movements stuttering. “Fuck, that’s so— filthy.”

He stopped tempering himself. If he was doing it because he was worried about whatever injuries she’d sustained, she was glad that he’d stopped—each haphazard, frenzied connection of their bodies sent her rapidly hurtling towards her finish, his fingers digging and dragging against the parts of her that craved him the most. It wasn’t fair, really, that John could rumble a few dirty things about wanting to fuck her in the woods and get her so close: but he did, and she was, and that was the end of it.

She breathed out, “Close, John—I’m—”

“Liked that, did you?” He sounded awfully pleased with himself, even as each of his breaths were punctuated with a desirous sound. “Liked me telling you how badly I wanted to push that dress up and fuck you right there? You get s-so —fucking tight when I say that—c’mon, El, let me hear those pretty noises—”

“Yes,” Elliot moaned, hazy with want, desperate and still trying to swallow some of it back, so close so close so close. “Yes, yes, I— John—”

John said something into her mouth; she couldn’t have said what it was, because all of the blood went rushing through her head the second her climax hit. There was a strange, suspended moment of nothing before it ripped straight through her, every neuron firing off rapidly as she buried her face into John’s neck and dug her nails in hard while the wave washed over her, wicked-hot and nearly too much.

Nearly, but not quite. John’s teeth on her lip dragged her back, and he moaned, “Holy shit, fuck yes —fuck, El, I’m gonna—let me—”

He couldn’t quite get out what he was trying to say, but Elliot thought she knew; it wasn’t hard to guess, anyway, considering the way he was gripping her like he’d fucking disappear if he didn’t. And she felt a little wild, a little wicked, only a vicious desire left before she hit empty, so she managed out, “Beg.”

John pulled back a little and let his gaze rake over her. His movements slowed, just enough that she could tell that he was pacing himself, holding back the same way he had that first time when she’d dragged him through his own climax. Though his eyes were blown nearly black, the clarity about them made her want to squirm—that she knew he wasn’t quite so high as he was before, that he was going to remember this.

“Wh—” The brunette swallowed thickly; his hands skimmed absently across her skin, like he didn’t need to really think about it to do it anymore, but that they did it of their own volition. “What?”

With that same kind of recklessness, Elliot knotted her fingers in his hair and said, “ Beg to finish inside me.”

A short, breathless laugh barked out of him. He said, “Fuck you. I’m not—I don’t—”

Elliot squirmed, pulling on his hair until his lashes fluttered and he was leaning back into her on instinct. “You do now,” she replied silkily against his mouth. And then, in an attempt at graciousness: “Didn’t you want me to be loud, John? To hear me?”

He groaned. “Y—Yes—”

“So beg me,” she bit out, canting her hips against him and feeling his breath stutter and hitch, “and I’ll be as loud—”

“Fuck—”

“—as you want—”

“— yes —”

“—tell you how much I want it—”

“ Please,” John moaned as he slotted his hips against hers, unable to hold still any longer. He made a low, wrecked sound, and by the time the adrenaline rush from hearing John Seed say please to her had hit her brain he was foregoing all pretense. “Please, El, let me finish inside you, I’ll—fuck—make you feel so good, baby, make you mine—”

Elliot kissed him, hard and punishing, and moaned “Yes—yes, John, so good ,” against his mouth until he was driving into her like a man incensed, frenzied, each desperate dig of his fingers against the bruises in her skin delivering a different kind of delicious pain; and when he came, panting, yes, fuck yes, don’t stop, El, please, fuck, she held onto him tighter.

Anything to feel whole. Anything to feel safe. Anything to forget, even for a moment.

“Don’t move,” John managed out unsteadily. “Don’t—Jesus, fuck, it’s so fucking hot in here.”

“Don’t know where I’d go,” she replied in a murmur. Her brain felt foggy now, delicious sliding down from her high, remembering the surge of delight she’d felt when John had said please, El. The water had since gone lukewarm, and she wasn’t sure she even got all of the blood out of her hair, but it didn’t matter; pleasant after-currents rippled through her, and all she could think about was how little of her brain was being spent on churning around the Family.

John’s mouth traced a bruise on her neck—either from him, or Kian; she didn’t know—and his breath slid across her skin.

“Viper,” he murmured huskily, admiringly. “Aren’t you?”

“You said it yourself,” she replied tiredly, eyes fluttering as the desperate need for sleep finally registered in her brain; no more adrenaline to keep pushing it away. “More devil than woman.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was the second time waking up next to John, and the second time of having to try and brace herself for some kind of impact after.

That is to say, Elliot thought that maybe fucking John Seed felt a little bit like throwing herself off of a cliff, and so every time it happened—she thought, as though it had been more than twice—it was the same sensation of falling. The feeling prevailed over any other logic in her brain: upon waking, she thought very little of the sensation of his arm draped over her waist or his face buried into her hair and only of the sheer blast of panic that raced through her.

I smell, I feel, I hear, she thought, closing her eyes tight, but when she did, she saw Kian—blood streaming down his face, gripping her jaw, will you feel guilty about this too? And the panic shifted into dread, knotting tight and hard in her stomach.

She forced her eyes open. Sheer exhaustion had pushed her through a dreamless night, but that didn’t mean that her nightmares were confined to sleeping hours only.

When Elliot shifted, John stirred; his fingers skimmed up the back of her shirt, palm flattening at the spot between her shoulder blades, and she winced. Everything hurt. Everything ached. She wondered what was worse; nightmares, or this?

Definitely the nightmares, she thought, each breath a labor of her bruised and battered body. Right? Has to be the nightmares.

“Stop moving,” John muttered against her head.

“I don’t know why you don’t get the concept of a twin bed,” she snapped. “Fuck, my body hurts—”

“Well.” He was clearly trying not to sound smug, and failing; she could feel his grin into her hair. “I do recall you spurring me on—”

Oh, she thought, reminded of their shared shower. That.

A problem.

“Not from that, fuckhead.” She squirmed back from him, back pressing against the wall. “Feels like someone tried to curb stomp my ribs eighty times.”

“Probably did,” he replied. John tilted his head, wincing a little, and then nudged the blankets back from her body. His gaze was admiring. “Christ, you bruise easy, huh?”

“A fucking van t-boned us in a truck that spit out pitiful, half-functioning airbags, ” she bit out, “and then I got tossed around like a ragdoll, so—yeah, I guess if you consider battery and assault “easy”, then—”

John’s hands came up to her face and he kissed her. It lacked the same kind of urgency that it’d had last night; this was John taking his time, savoring her, parting his lips against hers and sighing into the kiss as he carded his fingers through her hair. The gesture itself was so unexpected that Elliot could do nothing but reciprocate, and the breath hitched in her throat as he tugged her back against him—part in pain and part because of the way he did it, like he just couldn’t get enough of her.

“So ungrateful,” he said against her mouth, “after I gave you what you wanted so badly last night.”

“I’m not the one who begged,”   Elliot replied sharply, “am I?”

John’s hand skimmed the slope of her hip, and he made a low noise, thumb digging past the top of her underwear to press lightly into a bruise that she thought his fingers had left. She sucked in a sharp breath as a familiar heat sprinted down her spine and squirmed.

“Worth it,” he replied after a moment, teeth catching her lip, “to have you say how much you wanted me in you.”

He flashed that half-cocked, shit-eating grin that she could feel against her mouth, and she swatted his hand away from her hip. There was, perhaps, a part of her that regretted goading him like that—that regretted spurring him on—but there was no point in lingering on it now. As much as John might want to. As much as, when he looked at her with those too-blue eyes, she might want to.

Elliot opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, there was a soft, quick knock at the door. Boomer, curled up on one of her sweaters by the door, immediately pricked his ears and barked at the intrusion.

“Elliot?” It was Faith’s voice. She felt her stomach somersault, plunged into—well, it wasn’t quite shame, but maybe a little bit of embarrassment, in the way that it was to have the little sister of the man you were currently entangled with knock on your door while you were still in bed.

“I’m—” Elliot sat up, slapping a hand over John’s mouth when she saw him start to say something. “I’m getting dressed, what is it?”

“Joseph wants to talk to you,” Faith called back, pausing. And then, perhaps with a bit more slyness than Elliot liked: “And John.”

Fuck fuck fuck. The last thing she wanted was for Joseph to know . There was probably a ninety-eight percent chance that Joseph was going to be flashing that psychotic smile the second she walked in, knowing that she and John were—

“W—I’m coming,” she said, as John gripped her forearm and pressed his mouth to the pulse point on her wrist, letting his teeth drag there. She yanked her arm out of his grip and hissed, “Stop , you fucker, or I’ll pick my teeth with your fucking bones.”

“Okay,” came Faith’s light-hearted reply. “See you soon!”

As soon as she heard the footsteps receding, she turned to John. “What the fuck does your brother want with me, John?”

John shrugged. “Contrary to what you may believe about me, I am not entirely all-knowing.”

“As usual, you are stunningly unhelpful,” she muttered crossly, sliding out of the bed and over to her bag of clothes. Now, she really felt it—each impact had been dulled by the adrenaline at the time, but as she shimmied into her jeans, every inch of her body screamed in pain and her vision fuzzed around the edges.

John had gotten out of bed as well, but he departed to the bathroom and returned with a bottle of aspirin, which he shook two pills out of and held in his palm for her.

“You might consider something with a higher neck,” he suggested lightly.

Elliot snatched the aspirin out of his hand and swallowed them dry. “My teeth,” she said, jabbing a finger into his chest, “your bones.”

“Just trying to be helpful.”

“Suggestion box is closed,” Elliot snapped. “Now—”

Her eyes flickered over him. It was very easy to disassociate John’s personality from his physical body, but harder when he was half-stripped-down in front of her, scars and tattoos on display and reminding her how intimately familiar she was becoming with them.

“Now put your clothes on,” she finally said, somehow managing to keep her voice mostly steady. “I want to get this done as fast as possible.”

The brunette flashed her a cheeky smile and gave her a two-finger salute that rang sardonic at best.

“Anything you want, baby.”

[jedivszombie]

‘got tagged by @wancestroll to share some albums I’ve been listening to lately (thank u angel). some musings under the cut. 

This album came out at the end of last year but I stumbled upon it towards the beginning of this year. It has gotten me through some Bad moments and I have had it on repeat variously throughout the year. It’s a really coherent and beautiful neo soul/blues album with excellent production. 

Michael Kiwanuka is so bloody talented it’s almost not fair! It opens up with a BANGER (You Ain’t the Problem), which never fails to make me want to dance and I just put it on repeat when I’m having a bad day. It’s a really beautiful journey through some highs and lows, other personal favourites include Piano Joint (this kind of love) - which always makes me cry and yearn because it’s beautiful - and Hero. 

Michael Kiwanuka is so bloody talented it’s almost not fair! It opens up with a BANGER (You Ain’t the Problem), which never fails to make me want to dance and I just put it on repeat when I’m having a bad day. It’s a really beautiful journey through some highs and lows, other personal favourites include Piano Joint (this kind of love) - which always makes me cry and yearn because it’s beautiful - and Hero. 

It’s the perfect album to blast on sunny days driving around with the windows down because it’s too hot, but it’s also the perfect album to blast when you’re feeling down and want to capture the feeling of a summers day. In short it is gorgeous and I have been obsessed.  

SAWAYAMA - Rina Sawayama

Goshhh this album is just so perfect as a debut album. You would actually be forgiven for thinking this was her second or third full album release, I haven’t been this impressed with a debut album since Tei Shi’s Crawl Space. It honestly sparkles with so much passion and personality. 

She manages to blend so many of my favourite genres into incredible songs that just create such a unique sound, that still sounds incredibly like Rina Sawayama. She draws from such a wide array of influences and experiences - from heartbreaking songs touching on her family to tongue in cheek evaluations of societies obsession with celebrities and wealth.  

It’s fun, it’s heartbreaking, it bangs from start to finish and truly cements Rina as one of the more exciting pop acts at the moment. Highlights for me include: Comme des Garçons (like the boys), Love Me 4 Me and Who’s Gonna Save U Now?. 

It was the perfect soundtrack to a weird, weird year, I could go on for years about this but it would just end up being me screaming and squealing and pointing at every little detail she added (like the concert sounds of who’s gonna save u now?!!!!) 

Petals for Armor - Hayley Williams

This album was probably the one I was anticipating the most this year, from the moment she started dropping hints about PFA I was hooked. As many of y’all will know I am a MAJOR Paramore and Hayley Williams fan, I love the way they have evolved as they have grown up and how it’s weirdly evolved with my own tastes. 

I truly love this album so much, it’s not massively coherent but sometimes albums don’t need to be. Hayley tries out so many different vibes and sounds it makes total sense why she released it as three EPs, giving each of the songs the space they all need in the world before we scrambled to listen to all of them at once. 

It’s also a hugely personal album and as someone who has felt similar feelings of depression and loneliness and grappling with loss and heartbreak I really love how some of the lyrics just really summed up stuff I didn’t even realise I was feeling. 

It starts out very moody and atmospheric and carries us on a journey from anger through to love in such a nice way. There are some duds (I am not a massive fan of My Friend for example) but she delivers them all in such a way I rarely skip songs I don’t love. 

Highlights for me are: Leave it Alone (very atmospheric, very autumnal, very late night walk in the woods, love the imagery and it kills me), Cinnamon (didn’t love this when I first heard it but I was WRONG, it’s really fun and makes you wanna dance and is an ode to loving yourself which we all need a bit more of), Dead Horse (my favourite fuck u song about an ex, it’s cutting where it needs to be and it’s a banger, and it makes me feel like summer and also smashing someone’s car with a baseball bat, and srsly Fuck You Chad), Why We Ever (another one I didn’t vibe with butttt actually now loveeeee so much, it’s so peaceful and full of love and sadness and makes me feel like I’m floating and also like I wanna cry? as someone who has a predilection to self sabotage something good I felt it), Sugar on the Rim (honestly I just wanna dance to this song, preferably in a gay club with pals, it’s so fun and 80s I adore it) and finally Crystal Clear (it makes me feel like I’m floating on a pool of water and serene and peaceful and loved and I’m so happy for her that she can write songs like that, it’s about embracing fear in love and just a really gorgeous song, also the sample of her Grandad’s song is adorable). 

All in all I adore the album and had it on repeat A LOT since it came out, hopefully I will be able to see her perform it live at some point but at this point I am just thrilled that we have been able to experience an album from Hayley Williams like this. 

Flip Phone Fantasy - Ocean Grove

Finally, Flip Phone Fantasy is an album I was introduced to not so long ago (thank u Allie) and I love it. It slaps, it fucks, it is the perfect mad modern nu-metal esque album. 

Again I love the way it blends lots of different genres and sounds and vibes to create something very unique, fun and energetic. I have had this on repeat for about 2 weeks now, so you could say I’m a little obsessed. 

Highlights on the album include: SUPERSTAR (just like a real hot song, love the imagery, wanna dance in a club to it, instead end up just dancing around the house and shower to it instead), GUYS FROM THE GORD (very trance/drum and bass kinda vibes, which I loveeee, reminds me of shady clubs at Uni and going on hikes up Constitution Hill high to watch the sunrise, 10/10 vibes) and ASK FOR THE ANTHEM (another v hot song but in a different way from Superstar, the lyrics are immaculate and the vocal effects are killer, again would party to this song). 

Their first album is also a banger but honestly at the moment this is the kind of vibe I’m going for. Something a little sexy, quite summery, makes you want to dance and also rage at the same time - which is honestly an Eternal Mood. 

also some honourable shout outs to: Chromatica - Lady Gaga, Fumbling Towards Ecstasy - Sarah McLahan, Fetch the Bolt Cutters - Fiona Apple, What’s the 411? - Mary J. Blige, Crisis - Alexisonfire and Die 4 Ur Love - Tei Shi for getting me through this year. 

I am tagging @danielthicciardo, @reynobody, @efe-uno, @alonsista, @j-button and @josefnewgarden1, @laptimedeleted, @mushroom-callum​, @stones-and-water​, @formulaelectrified. 

[shotsbyshae]

Colors

Hunter Steve Series Masterlist

Warnings: Language, Murder, Bloody, Little Smut-ish

Words: 2.9k

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: A hunter turned vampire makes for the deadliest hunter around. What happens when an old foe decides to make their own breed of assassins?  Song: Colors by Halsey

You’re ripped apart at every edge,

but you’re a masterpiece.

Sleep.

You've always considered it the most important part of any day.

It doesn’t matter where or how outdated the motel is or if the mattress feels like a slab of concrete against your back, sleep is you time. You've always done just fine on your own, sleeping alone was never an issue.

Then you woke up one night – some shitty room outside of Denver – found yourself curled into him. One pillow was somehow supporting both of you, his arm draped across your waist lazily. He had stirred slightly with your movement and his arm tightened, pulling you closer to his chest. You had nuzzled your face against his neck as he rested his chin against the top of your scalp.

It should have felt suffocating.

But it didn’t.

It was something different – something you hadn’t felt since becoming a vampire.

Safe.

It’s in the middle of the night when they come. Finding you and Steve curled into one another – sleeping peacefully – at your most vulnerable. They are in the room before either of you are aware of it, bright LED flashlights blinding you before a there’s a sharp pain in your neck. An angry snarl rips from your chest as your fangs descend and you reach, feeling a gloved hand there with a syringe. Everything starts to go numb and you try to fight, but it’s pointless as they drag you from the bed. From the glow of the flashlights you can see Steve wide-eyed with fear and anger as five – no six – men restrain him. One of which has a syringe jabbed into the side of his neck as well.

It happens in the blink of an eye. One minute your tucked warmly against him on what you had commented earlier that night to be a not too shabby mattress. Now, you’re being thrown into a van wearing nothing but a pair of black boy shorts and one of Steve’s blue t-shirts. You try to keep your eyes open as the doors to the van slam shut, but it’s useless. Whatever they injected you with working at record speed.

The sound of the engine starting is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

12 Hours Earlier

“Wraiths?” Steve questions, standing beside you as the two of you have a faceoff with four individuals across the bar. Three men and a woman stare angrily back at you. One of the men takes a step forward, a boney spike protruding from his wrist in a menacing fashion.

“Yep,” you respond. “Wraiths alright.”

This is a milk run – Steve can handle it.

There’s only four of them.

You watch as Steve twirls the silver angel blade in his hand before he stalks towards the monsters. You smirk slightly to yourself as you hop up onto the bar, crossing one leg over the other. You lay your blade on the wooden bar beside you, leaning over to grab the bottle of bourbon nearest you.

The fighting ensues and Steve is ducking and dodging as the three men attack. The sickening sound of the blade slicing through skin fills the empty bar and you know the woman is sneaking around to your left, but you’re doing one of the things you enjoy most – watching him work.

It’s probably not healthy.

Most would assume it has something to do with your bloodlust, but that’s not it.

There’s something about the realness of it. Kill or be killed. The two of you teetering on the edge of life or death, your heart beating so hard and fast you can’t hear anything but it pounding against your ribs.

It’s raw – pure.

Steve’s a fighter – he was born for it – made that way. He’s quick on his feet and it’s almost like a well-choreographed dance the way he moves, dodging every attempt they make at stabbing him with their wrist spikes. He’s the only one left standing, chest heaving, and blood splattered. His hair falling across his face as he glances over to where you sit.

“Really? You want some popcorn?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips.

You hold the bottle of amber liquid up with your left hand, “I’m good.” Your right hand slowly gripping the handle of the blade laying at your side.

“You know –” Steve begins attempting to warn you of the woman, but stops as you move quickly, throwing your blade across and into the chest of the monster.

“I know,” the woman falls to the floor as you smirk before taking a swig from the bottle in your hand.

Steve walks across, pulling your blade from her before moving over to where you sit. He lays both weapons on the bar as you uncross your legs, stretching them out to hook around his waist.

“Is this what it’s come to now?” Steve questions, taking the bottle you offer him as you pull him closer with your legs. “You watch while I do all the work?”

“You didn’t need any help,” you comment playfully. “Besides, I like to watch.” Your fingers brush the hair from his forehead as he pulls the bottle away from his lips.

He stares at you, chest still heaving from his fight, eyes a deeper, darker blue, and you can practically feel the adrenaline surging out of him. There are blood stains spattered across the green shirt he’s wearing and up the side of his neck.

“Well, maybe next time,” his voice is low. “You work – while I watch.” He sets the bottle on the bar beside you, hands moving up your denim clad thighs. “You’re not the only one who likes it.”

He kisses you innocently enough, but after a few moments his kisses become more desperate – hungry. With one swift motion, he’s on top of you. The shattering of the bottle as the bourbon falls to the floor echoes throughout the empty room.

“Steve,” you breath against his mouth. “Really – here?”

He lifts his head, boyish glint in his eyes as he smiles down at you before glancing over at the four dead wraiths lying in the floor, “I don’t think they care.”

You shake your head with a laugh as his lips move along your neck before he nips at your pulse point. He feels your breathing falter and he nibbles a little harder, until he hears the low snarl in your chest.

“Easy with the – teeth,” your whisper turns into a hiss as he bites hard. Your fangs descend, fingers digging into his biceps. You know he did it on purpose. He enjoys riling you up.

“Says the vampire,” he pulls away with a smug smile, confirming your thoughts.

It happens so fast, Steve doesn’t even feel it until you have him pinned to the bar, straddling him. You watch the surprise on his face quickly fade into desire as his eyes travel up your body. He likes to bring this out in you – the feral creature you can be. He’s been addicted since the first time you slammed him into a wall while feeding on him.

You lean close to him, pressing your hips further down onto him – hard – throbbing almost. Your voice low and challenging as you whisper against his ear, “You started this.” You bite into his neck – thick, warm, blood filling your mouth quickly. A moan slips from him and you grind your hips against his methodically.

When his hand moves for the button on your jeans, you grab it quickly, pinning it and his other hand above his head. It elicits a small laugh from him, but you continue to roll your hips against him as you drink from him.

His voice is strangled as he tries to communicate, but you silence him with your mouth.

All tongue and teeth, copper and bourbon.

Showing your strength without fear.

He loves when you take control like this.

24 Hours Later

He had fought back when they took you, managed to capture one of the men while the others escaped. The only person who might have answers to where they’d taken you and Steve’s hell bent on getting them.

Steve’s staring down at the bloody man in the chair, he’s obviously taken quiet the beating. Steve’s right hand rests against the side of his thigh, the skin on his knuckles broken and bleeding as his pistol hangs loosely in his fingers.

“You’ve seen the last of her,” he says cryptically.

Steve stares angrily at the man in front of him, “What do you mean?”

“You heard me,” the man replies simply.

He clenches his jaw, rage coursing through him as he raises the pistol in his hand, aiming it at the man’s head, “Where the fuck is she?”

“Kill me if you want Rogers,��� the man states flippantly. “Won’t change the fact she’s gone, and she isn’t coming back.” He stares at Steve for a moment before continuing. “They have her now.”

“Who’s they?”

“Hydra,” the man answers maliciously.

Confusion sweeps across his face, “What do they want with her?”

“They got word from one of their informants in another organization about a hunter who was turned. How she’s one of the best killers he’d ever seen,” the man states. “Don’t you think that would pique their interest?”

“She won't work with them,” Steve says strongly.

“They don't expect her to,” he responds raising an eyebrow. “They want to make more like her.”

The realization makes Steve nauseous and he swallows the bile rising in his throat, “Make more – how?”

With a small, sadistic laugh the man answers simply, “With her blood. How else?”

***

Steve’s able to get a general location for the facility where they’re keeping you, but he’s desperate and running out of options. So, he calls the one person he knows who might have an idea on exact locations of Hydra bases. Once he gives Barnes the information, he has coordinates dialed up and the quinjet en route to the base within minutes.

“What would Hydra want with her?” Sam questions from his seat.

Steve takes a deep breath, knowing this conversation was coming, “About that –”

***

The noise from outside the room you’re in stirs you awake. It’s not the safe, warm, comfort you feel when you wake up beside Steve. This small dark room unrecognizable. You don’t know how you came to be strapped upright to this cold, hard slab of steel, or how long there’s been a needle stuck in the vein at the bend of your elbow. The small plastic tubing full of dark red liquid as it drains your blood into a large bag below.

You try to break free of the restraints with no avail as the outside noise draws closer. Your mind races with questions – unsure who took you or why they want your blood. What the commotion is outside becomes your main concern as the doorknob across from you tries to turn. Feeling so weak in the face of possible danger isn’t something you’re used to and your heart races against your chest.

The door is forcefully kicked in and the brightness from the outside light blinds you momentarily as a dark figure approaches you. You turn your head away as the person gets closer – your fear apparent.

“It’s okay,” a familiar voice says. “It’s me – yea, I have her.”

“Buck,” you look back at the person in front of you in confusion.

“We gotta go,” he states dropping the blade in his hand to the floor before he pulls the leather cuffs from both your wrists. “Now.”

You slowly pull the needle from your arm as he jerks the restraints from your ankles. As soon as you take a step the light headedness takes over – room spinning out of control – your legs buckle.

“Shit,” Barnes says, looping his vibranium arm around your waist for support. “Come on, doll. Let’s go.”

“Steve,” you say his name questioningly as the two of you make your way out of the room.

“He’s here,” the man replies, glancing down with a small smirk.

Your bare feet hardly graze the concrete floor as Barnes moves quickly down the hall, speaking into his comm, “Heading down the south corridor. Yea – she’s lost a lot.”

“Who did this?” you manage to ask. “What’s happening?”

“Hydra,” Bucky says quickly. “They want to use your blood to make assassins like you.”

His statement sends a hundred different thoughts rushing through your mind, like how Hydra can’t just make assassins into vampires. They couldn’t control it. Does that mean Bucky knows that you’re a vampire?

A loud crash from in front of you makes Bucky stop moving and you feel him tense as pulls you behind him – shielding you from whatever is coming.

He relaxes after a moment and you hear another voice, “We have a problem.”

Sam.

You step from behind him, holding onto the cool metal arm for support. Your eyes meet Steve’s instantly and you see the relief wash over him as his pace quickens. He hands Barnes his machete as he pulls you into his chest tightly and you feel his lips press against the top of your head.

“This is great,” Sam’s voice states. “I’m glad your okay and all, but there’s like twenty hungry vampires heading this way.”

“They already started experimenting,” Bucky comments.

“You okay?” Steve’s hands are on your face as he tilts your head up to look at you.

“I’ll live,” there’s a small smile there and he kisses you gently.

“Good. We could use the back-up,” he responds with a smirk, pushing his sleeve up and offering you his wrist. “Full participation – no popcorn.”

“But,” you whisper hesitantly, eyes glancing over at Barnes and Wilson.

“It’s fine,” Steve says. “I told them.” You glance between them again before nodding and taking his hand.

“Oo – oooh fangs,” the level of disgust on Sam’s face as your fangs descend and you bite into Steve’s wrist is priceless. “Really – just like that? Ugh –” He makes a gagging noise as he turns around.

“Trust me,” Steve comments. “You’ll want her at full strength.”

Sam looks over at Barnes questioningly with his brows furrowed and the man shrugs his shoulders in response.

When the Hydra agents reach the hallway, you recognize the crazed look in their eyes. The bloodlust making them chaotic which makes them a little more dangerous.

“Be careful,” you remark to the men standing next to you, wiping the blood from the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Steve gives you a small nod of understanding before the agents in front start advancing.

“Don’t you need a weapon?” Wilson glances to you suddenly aware you have nothing to fight with. The half-smile on your face is all the answer he needs. “Oh – okay.”

The fighting ensues and you keep the others in sight as they fight off the agents – all fangs and angry snarls. You slam your fist through the back of one of the men, grabbing his heart in the palm of your hand and ripping it out. His body falls limply to the floor and Sam looks from the bloody organ in your hand up to you – eyes blown wide.

“Damn,” he remarks under his breath.

The fight lasts minutes and hours at the same time, as you bite into the throat of a woman who tries to attack Barnes from behind as he’s decapitating another vamp – ripping it a chunk of her neck out with your fangs. He turns quickly, watching as you toss the woman aside, blood dripping from your mouth onto the front of Steve’s shirt.

“Thanks,” he nods, and you smile because there’s no judgement in his eyes at your ruthlessness.

When it’s over, only the four of you are left standing, all blood splattered and sweaty.

“Steve,” Sam looks over to his friend.

“Yea,” Rogers responds breathless, brushing his hair from his face.

“Remind me never to piss Twilight off,” Wilson says, and you place your hands on your hips as you narrow your eyes at him.

“We need to burn this place,” Bucky remarks, ignoring Wilson. “All your blood – it’s gotta go.”

“He’s right,” Steve says. “We need to burn it all.”

***

The fire gives the small living room a cozy feel as you settle onto the couch. You had phoned Donna about staying in her cabin – motels were off limits for a bit.

“Sam’s face,” Steve comments as he walks over to the couch.

“They seemed to handle it well though,” you remark as he sits down, and you scoot closer to his side.

“I watched you,” he says quietly. “You ripped out a woman’s throat – with your teeth.”

“She was going after Barnes,” you reply.

“I know,” Steve says, fingers lazily gliding up and down your arm. “Sometimes I forget how dangerous you can be.”

You glance up at him, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, “Never be sorry for who you are.” His other hand moves to the side of your neck. “You’re dangerous, smart, and there’s no one I’d rather have by my side in, or out of, a fight.”

A smile crosses your lips and you comment, “Thanks. I did kill like ten vamps today in just a t-shirt.”

“My t-shirt,” he remarks salaciously. “Trust me – I noticed.” His lips move just below your ear, kissing you gently before he whispers. “Watching was fun.”

Later, your body jerks you awake from a nightmare. You were back in the Hydra facility and it was so cold and damp. You feel Steve’s arms tighten around you. Rolling over to face him, you see him looking at you groggily from moonlight streaming through the window.

“You okay?” he questions sleepily, and you nod with relief to see his face.

Your mouth captures his quickly for a moment before you respond, “I am now.”

Settling against him, you breath a sigh of relief.

Happy to be here with him.

Warm.

Safe.

[bishopsorphan]

Snapshots from the End of Days (SPN spoilers; Epic Ducifer AU)

“Dean, what the Hell did you do?”

Dean almost dropped his phone from shock. Every number. Every name. Every contact. They’d all gone to voicemail. All of them but Bishop.

---

The vampire sat at the table in the war room, chugging down his second mason jar of blood from the eligible donors that surrounded him. “So, let me get this straight. After Chuck got done destroying every alternate universe out there,” his voice sank as he licked his lips, “he came back. And raptured everyone but us off the planet. Because it makes for a good ending?”

“Yeah,” Gabe said, sitting down on the table beside him. “Sorry. I know how much you wanted to find your guy in some world where he didn’t shank you.”

“Decapitated,” Bishop clarified, showing off the scar that roped around his neck. “And it’s fine. Used to disappointment by now.”

“How’d you even survive?” Sam asked. “I mean, we – Dean, me, Luce, Jack, Cas, Nick, Dagon, Gabe, even Gwen – we’re his final main characters –“

“Gee, thanks, Sam.”

“No, I saw another world, another ending, where he used you to get us to kill each other. He said you weren’t his. He liked you as a character, but you weren’t really his.”

Bishop shrugged. “I’m technically dead twice over, Sam. Off the radar. Maybe he can’t find me.”

“It’s like he’s pulling from everywhere,” Gwen said. “Time travel, alternate universes. Crossovers. It’s not so much a Gospel as it is fanfiction anymore.”

Luce chuckled. “He’s out of ideas. Sam and Dean won’t kill each other. I bailed on the Apocalypse. Nick won’t kill Dean, wouldn’t give in to my evil twin, wouldn’t kill Gwen. We let Jack live. We fucked up his story. There’s nothing left.”

There was a knock at the door. They all turned to look at the sheet of metal, the room falling quiet.

“The last survivors sat together in a bunker,” Bishop intoned. “There was a knock at the door.” He finished off the last of the blood. “Shortest horror story in the book.”

---

It was another one. Another Luce. Another Nick. Another Bishop. Carbon copy.

“Goopy.”

Lucifer smiled, eyes glowing red, and swiped a finger under his nose as it started to leak black. “Guess who the Empty yeeted again?” He sauntered up to Nick. “You have anything to do with that, you sly dog?” He winked.

“You saved my daughter,” Nick said. “But you’re not the Lucifer I’ve been praying to.”

He frowned. “Party pooper. I brought a present, though.” He snapped his fingers and a woman in chains appeared. “It’s the final reaper,” he sing-songed.

---

“Wow, a betrayal,” Luce muttered from his place on the floor. “From evil me, even. Never saw that coming.”

“What do you say, Killer?” Lucifer asked, holding out a gold-plated hammer to Nick. “You and me against the world. Or in charge of it. Remaking it. Just like we planned.”

Nick licked his lips, looking back at his family. Then turned back to the angel he’d said yes to all those years ago. “Where’d you even find this?” He asked, taking the proffered weapon.

The angel smiled. “Went through your stuff. Knew you were the sentimental type.”

“Yeah,” he said. He turned back to the angel that had taken him in, Dean’s Lucifer, the one he’d been meant to kill the hunter to have. He smiled. Nodded. “Yes.”

When he turned back to the traitor, his eyes were red. He swung the hammer, and kept swinging until Chuck’s little mole was heaped in a bloody pile on the ground.

When he turned away from the corpse, his eyes were blue, Luce smiling up at him from his place on the ground. “You know, Nicky, when you suggested smelting down Michael’s sword and using it to coat some weapons just in case, I thought you were just being paranoid, but that was pretty smart.”

Bishop licked his lips, eyes trained on the corpse. “You guys gonna finish that?”

---

And just like that, everything was back to normal. Everyone was back, like they’d never left. Like the world had never stopped.

“You did it, kid,” Gabe said, slapping a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You actually did it.”

Gwen threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “I knew you could.”

“So, that’s it,” Dean said. “Everything’s right.” His eyes followed the dog they’d found earlier as it trotted across the road.

Jack nodded. “Everything.”

“Bishop?”

It was a new voice, a voice only one of their group had ever heard before.

The vampire turned, his mouth falling open, hands shaking at his sides. “Aidan?”

He’d wanted this. It had been his whole reason behind helping Dean out of Purgatory. Helping Aidan. Saving Aidan. Finding Aidan. But Aidan had been gone. Buried. Lost. Caught up in coups and plagues and then a fire.

He’d searched, but found nothing. No way to fix the problem, not until Dean had reappeared, asked him for help saving a town from spirits from Hell. Not until he’d learned about Nick, about the existence of alternate realities, worlds where Aidan might be alive. Might be waiting for him.

And now here they were, standing in a busy street, staring at each other.

“Jack?” Gabriel asked.

“We talked about it,” the new God explained. “I asked Gabe for help. We were gonna find a way to let you hop between worlds. Because you helped us. And you were sad. But then Chuck destroyed them all.”

Bishop turned to the boy, tears in his eyes. “You…?” A hand touched his shoulder and he whirled back to Aidan.

“I saw,” Aidan said. “I saw what you did. You saved the world.”

“You died human. You got your door.”

“He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be,” Jack explained. “I asked.”

Aidan smiled. “You loved me,” he said. “And I know that now. You… more than anything.”

Bishop smiled back. “Let’s go home.”

---

And they did. They all did.

To Boston.

Bishop and Aidan.

To the bunker.

Dean, Luce, Nick.

Sam and Gabriel.

Castiel and Dagon.

And to a future that only existed because she’d helped save it.

Gwen. Alone in her apartment. Until suddenly she wasn’t.

“Jack?”

He held up his hand in greeting. “Hi.”

“Is something wrong? What are you doing here?”

“I’m everywhere,” he said. “But I realized that the place I really want to be is here. With you.”

She smiled. “I want you to be here, too.”

---

And they lived happily ever after.

[ilovefanfic86]

Supernatural S15E18 “Despair” and S15E19 “Inherit the Earth”

MAJOR SPOILERS

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.

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This is going to be my longest posting, so I am going to add a keep reading link.

I am skipping episode 17 because way too much happened since then. Spoilers ahead. Plus a shit ton of side notes.

Come share my pain...

“Despair”

I’m not going to dwell to much on the whole episode. I just want to focus on the main parts. 

I’m glad that we got to see Charlie, Donna, and Bobby. Then they get dusted. Fuck you Chuck.

Billie wants to take over as Death and put everyone back where they belong. Anyone that was resurected would die human and angel a like.

Billie sends Jack to the Empty to let off his bomb and kill it. 

THE BIG MOMENT...

Billie is chasing down Cas and Dean. She wants to see Dean die before she does. Dean and Cas get locked in the dungeon so he can block her power. Dean then tells Cas that he got them into this all because he wanted to kill Chuck. Then Cas went and made it canon.

Cas finally tells Dean about his deal with the Empty. Once Castiel finds happiness, the Empty would kill him. The one thing that he wants, its something he can never have.

Cas proceeds to tell Dean how pulling him out from Hell changed him. How the way Dean sees himself as a killer, is not the way the world sees him.

Castiel tells Dean that he is the most selfless, caring, and loving human being he has ever know. Everything that Dean did, good or bad, he did it for love. Dean made Cas care about people and the world. That

Dean asks him, “Why does this sound like a goodbye?” Cas replies, “Because it is.” 

Cas then tells Dean, “I love you.” 

DESTIEL IS CANON!!! (All of us who knew) 

The Empty is summond kills Billie and then Castiel.He is taken with a smile on his face. He’s happiness was telling Dean he loved him. Then its just Dean on the floor.Crying. Me too Dean. Me too.

Sam, Jack and Dean are the only ones left on Earth.

Supernatural

S15E19

“Inherit the Earth”

My heart can’t take this.

By the way.... DESTIEL IS CANON!!!!

Damn I guess I’m gone too.

Oh shit! Where is Cas?! NO NO NO!!

This hurts on so many levels.

Lol! “Sudden Death”

Jack praying to Cas is just too much right now.

What the hell is wrong with Jack?

Damn I hate to say it, but Sam is right. He wanted to find another way and the world finally paid the price.

Hearing Sam wanting to give up is hard.

Fuck Chuck!

You damn right bring back Cas.

“The world is this way because you wouldn’t take a knee.” Fucking hell Chuck.

Poor joke.

Dean is drunk and unconcious Dean on the floor. He misses Cas so much that he starts drinking heavenly again.

Jack looks adorable in his pj’s.

 *Side Note*

I am starting to think that all the things that Jack did to kill Chuck, that made him God-like? I mean he basically became a super nova with the amount of power he had and then survived. Plus the plants are dying around him too.

Jack can sense life?

Dean found a dog and named it. Talk about a character arc.

 *Side Note 2*

I feel like Dean finding the dog relates to Cas dying. Hear me out. Dean doesn’t like dogs. And we were made to believe that Dean was straight and loved Cas as a brother. Then Cas confessed his love for Dean. Dean may now be open to things he “THOUGHT he didn’t like. Because you don’t miss it until it’s gone. Like Cas.

OH SHIT!!! THAT WAS SO FUCKED UP!! Chuck took the damn dog then smiled at Dean. Man FUCK YOU CHUCK!!!!

Chuck really just fucking with them now.

I feel like I’m watching the movie “The Prophecy”, when they were at the gate.

Okay...So Michael is the one who had the humans believe that God was an all loving, all caring God. After Chuck left, so heGod would feel the love. Talk about a plot twist.Michael and the Winchesters working together.

Dean looks so scared.

WHAT CAS!!???!!!

Dean ran so fast up the stairs to get the door!!??

GOD DAMN IT LUCIFER!!!!!

....I need a break.... 

The Empty sent Lucifer to get God’s death book. 

He brought a reaper then killed her. Making her the new Death and can read the book.

It’s way too many plot twits!! Chuck let Lucifer out?!

Kill his ass Michael!!

Watching Lucifer dying again is so satisfying.

What’s wrong with Jack?!

Dean caring for Michael is another storyline arc.

Sam is going to use the Book of the Damned to read the book.

This shit is intense.

WHOA!!

OH SHIT MICHAEL TOLD CHUCK!!

OMG!!! MICHAEL!! HE DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THAT!!!

I feel you Sam. If I’m going to die, at least let me get a hit in.

CHUCK IS GOING TO FIGHT THEM!!

OH SHIT...

This is painful to watch. My babies!! 

Sam helping Dean up is too much.

Hell naw they won’t stay down. FUCK YOU!!!

I’M DEAD...

WHY ARE THEY SMILING???!!!?!?!?!?!?!

JACK!!!!

Chuck laying in the dirt, scared is everything. 

“Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer.” “That’s not who I am.” WHO WROTE THIS!?!?!?!?!?

THAT’S RIGHT CHUCK!! FUCK YOU!!

WOW!

Jack brought the people back!!!

I’m so proud of Jack.

Jack is the new God and Amara is inside of him. They are both in harmony with each other.

Sam, Dean... Jack isn’t coming back to the Bunker.

I’m confused.

Damn it Jack. 

He will be such a good God.

NOT...THE...HAND!!! FUCK!!!

Dean in maroon.

So are you going to talk about Cas now???

Wow. they are really free.

They carved they’re names in the table.

...Okay... This is too hard to watch. I’m a huge fucking mess. This was so bittersweet, but I’m scared for next week.

WHERE THE FUCK IS CASTIEL?!?!?!?!?! I NEED TO RELIVE THIS MOMENT!!!

Promo

S15E20

“Carry On”

...Son of a Bitch...

*Side Notes*

 Michael’s death was beautiful, yet tragic. All he ever wanted was Chuck’s love. When Chuck was killing him, I noticed that Michael’s heart was exploding. Basically his heart broke. 

 I love how they made Jack into the new God. The concept of it was amazing to me. Because Kelly and Cas told them that Jack would bring paradise to the world. Jack telling Sam and Dean that he is always with them.In the rain, the wind, the sands on the beach. You could tell that Jared was really crying. Me too Jared.

 Its beautiful that Sam always believed in Jack. He knews he wasn’t evil . Sam Winchester raised GOD and a good man. God is a 3yr old.

If Castiel doesn’t come back the next episode I am seriously going to throw hands.Cause honestly, just because Jack brought back everyone, (Did he bring the monsters back?) why is Dean happy? It feels like they are just forgetting about Cas. 

Becky was right!!! 15x04 When she reads Chuck’s ending, she was us right now. That shit really hurt.

I have never been more proud of Sam and Dean than I was this episode. Even though they had planned the attack on Chuck. Jack is absorbing the energy that Chuck is releasing fighting the boys. Chuck is beating them breaking bones, making them bloody. They continue to fight him. Fighting him through broken bones, blood, sweat, and tears... THE WINCHESTERS NEVER STOP FIGHTING!!!

Instead of killing Chuck, they leave him. To become human. To die, old and alone. No one remember him or care about him. Leaving him in the dirt in “despair” that we have.

They did Dean dirty in this episode. The dog was so hurtful and wrong as hell. Then Lucifer pretending to be Cas that was the most hurtful scene to me. The hope and happiness Dean had when he thought Cas was there. The way he ran up the stairs, 2 at a time. The looks of horror and disappointment on his face was heartbreaking.

I know this was a lot to read if you made this far. Lol! This was the best epsiode in the series to me. It has surpassed; “Swan Song” and “Black”. I know as soon as I hear “Carry on my wayward son...” I will have a panic attack.

[queen-bunnyears]

Soft Hands ~ Roger Taylor

So my inspiration for this piece was a small quote from an interview I found somewhere, I don’t remember where, but I copied it into my writing document. 

“I’ve really had a lot of trouble.  Blood everywhere and a lot of bandages. It’s a really intense stage act. It’s in no way laid back. It’s pretty high energy, and yeah, it’s pretty hard on the hands. At the beginning of a tour, especially if we haven’t been playing for awhile, your hands tend to soften up. It’s just a case of hardening them. After two or three weeks they harden up pretty well. At the beginning of the last tour it was really bad because we did a lot of double shows. That was tearing my hands to bits. I know a few other guys who get a lot trouble like that. Bonham tears his hands to shreds. The only way to get over it is to practice like hell two weeks before you come over to do a tour. Just keep playing all the time.” - Roger Taylor, 1975 Circus interview 

Wordcount: a little over 3.4 K

Triggers: Mentions of smoking, alcohol and sex. This is just lots of fluff.

Pairing: Roger x Female reader

The thrill of the bass, and the thumps of the drums filled up your body as you watched Queen play. The third concert of the tour was a grand spectacle, Freddie sung great, and the others were playing one of their best sets yet. The crowd cheered screamed and sung their hearts out. The energy was skyhigh, just like half of the people in the concert hall. You loved watching Queen perform, and seeing how their shows were different each night, how the crowd reacted just in another way, and how the intensity always hit the roof.

When Roger suggested you would join them for the America tour you were beyond excited. You wouldn’t have to miss Roger for a few months, and you were happy that he wanted you to come along. It was Rogers first tour with a girlfriend, and like Brian said, it would probably take some getting used to. Roger was notorious for sleeping with the groupies, and living his best life. You didn’t blame him, he was allowed to enjoy the benefits of being a rockstar, but ever since you two had decided to take on an exclusive relationship you were scared for tours. You did trust him, of course, but something inside you was a tiny bit scared, so you were happy you could join them while they were making history.

Freddie sat down at the piano, and with that movement it felt like the entire crowd held his breath. The energy stayed high, got even higher possibly, but there was a difference, they were waiting for what he had in store. He hit the keys, and you felt nostalgia hit your senses. Love of my life, don’t leave me.

The song wasn’t even that old, but it always gave you a flashback of your favourite memories with Roger. You looked to the side, to Mary, who had tears in her eyes. The song was so special, and your heart filled up with a love for the man playing the piano. How was he capable of writing such amazing songs, that were able to touch your heart in the first few seconds, grab it and not let go. You hugged Mary, and the two of you softly swayed to the song. When he played the last chords you smiled at her, knowing which song would probably come next.

The harmony hit you, and you laughed at how your favourite song got you and Mary immediately out of your intense feelings, and got you to dance a bit, and sing along with the boys. You focused on Roger, who was extremely concentrated to sing it perfect, and having the right timing when he had to start with the drums. He looked so hot, and you wanted to hug him tight, and kiss the living daylight out of him when he looked like that. Watching Roger, the songs flew by, and before you knew it Mary gave you a soft nudge.

“Come on Darling, we have to go backstage, we will get stuck in the crowd if we don’t go now.” She was right, they were starting the last song, and you wanted to be there when they got off stage, bursting with adrenaline. You walked towards the exit, Mary followed suit. When you two were outside you walked towards the backdoor, while you took the opportunity to light a cigarette. “They were good tonight, weren’t they?” You asked Mary, while taking the first drag.

“They are always good. But yeah, tonight seemed to be better than this afternoon, or last night. Everything just went a bit better, smoother and more fluently. They’ll probably be exhausted, I bet Freddie goes to the afterparty, gets high or drunk or both, and then heads straight to bed.” You searched for bitterness in her voice, but Mary didn’t sound angry in the slightest. Maybe that’s why they work out so well, because Mary won’t judge him.

“Doesn’t that annoy you? I mean, I would be annoyed if Roger does that.” You said softly, hoping that you didn’t insult her.

“No it doesn’t, not anymore. He is happy and it doesn’t harm him. And it is just the beginning of tour. He usually settles down after a week or two. At least a bit.” She smiled tiredly. “Besides, I can get my beauty sleep this way. I have seen the party’s I know what it’s like so I think I will just go to bed early tonight. Shall we go shopping tomorrow? I heard Los Angeles is great if you want to find some new things.” The two of you entered the backdoor, and walked towards backstage.

“Yeah lets, tomorrow is the last day we are in LA, so if we want to shop we will have to go tomorrow.” The last notes of Killer Queen filled the air, and the crowd applauded and cheered. The boys bowed and left stage, jumping with the rush, sweaty and intoxicated by the amazing show they had played. Roger ran towards you, and gave you a bearhug, before kissing you. He was filled with adrenaline, and you let it flow over you, kissing him back fiercely. You felt yourself melting underneath his lips, feeling the intensity when his tongue wandered over your lips and your tongue.

Brain patted your shoulder, and you let go of Roger, a bit ashamed of the public affection you just showed. You moved on to hug Brian and the others, before ushering them towards the dressing rooms.

“Go shower boys, you all stink like hell.” The other three laughed, and Roger send you a smile. “Will you join me, we could save water by showering together.” You laughed and gave him a peck on his lips. “Perhaps.” Brian and the others left, Freddie had his arm casually slung over Mary her shoulder. You took Rogers hand, wanting to walk with him to the dressing room. He flinched the moment your hand touched his, and you felt the last bits of the post concert flow leave your veins.

“Roger, what is it?” You looked at his hands and saw it. They were raw and bloody, with some blisters and small cuts. “It’s nothing, it will go away. Just don’t touch ‘m, or think of ‘m.” He shrugged his shoulders, wanting to go to the dressing room to shower. “Rog, we should clean these. This can get infected and it will last longer before the pain fades.”

He made a face at you. “I’ll just put some bandages on them, don’t worry about it love.”

You sighed, not wanting to pressure it. “It always happens when we start a tour love, I tear my hands to shreds in the first couple of shows.” He murmured, and he pressed his face into the crook of your neck.

Taking his hand carefully you looked at his bloody palms. They really had to be cleaned, and not in the alcohol that would spill over them at the after party, were Roger would almost certainly want to go. “Rog, I don’t want to pressure you, but at least let me wrap your hands with a bandage before the show tomorrow?” You tried to sound convincing, but not to much like you were his mother. Your ex had broken up with you because he said you were too much of a worrier about him, and you didn’t want that to happen with Roger.

He nodded, and you pressed a soft kiss to his hand, making a mental note to clean his hands later that night when he would come to the room drunk from the afterparty. He probably wouldn’t struggle then, and just let you take care of his hands in silence.

“Let’s go to the dress room Rog, you need to shower and the after party starts in half an hour.”

“Love, I don’t really feel like going to the party, shall we just go to the hotel room? Order champagne and such, maybe have a bath?” You looked up in surprise, almost dropping Rogers hand. Roger and you always attended the afterparty. This was the first time you joined him on tour, but even after the regular London shows or party’s from festivals or other shows you visited, he never missed a party. He would drink beer and take shots with you, wander around the rooms and talk to everyone, with an arm wrapped around you, keeping you close at all times. Roger loved the buzz after the show, all the people and the booze. Not that you could blame him, the parties were lots of fun.

“Just a night with the two of us, last two days have been super tiring with the double shows. But if you want to go or have already picked your dress that’s fine, we can just go and,-” You stopped his stream of words with a small movement of your hands.

“Don’t worry Rog, there will be plenty of parties in the future we can attend. Let’s go to the hotel then, shall we?” He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and slung his arm around you waist, leading you to the big dressing room. All the boys were there, freshly cleaned and talking to Mary and some random girls, probably fans or groupies. Two of the girls got quite nervous when Roger appeared in the opening of the door.

“We are heading straight back.” Roger announced, Brain and John looked up in surprise, while Freddie immediately got up out of his seat.

“You can’t, that’s boring darlings. Join us for the party, at least two small hours? We don’t have an afternoon show tomorrow so that’s no excuse. You two lovebirds can fuck all you want after, but you don’t want to miss this party. You haven’t even met Sharon, Eve and Laura yet.” He walked around the room in his extravagant manner, trying to persuade Roger to stay.

“Not tonight Fred, maybe tomorrow.” And with that Roger decided the subject was closed and that he wanted to leave for the hotel. “Have fun guys, see you tomorrow.” You waved and told everyone goodnight, shutting the door behind you.

The cab ride to the hotel was silent, your put your head in Roger lap while he played with your hair. The soft admosphere calmed you down, and made you feel a bit slow. The cab stopped at the hotel, and Roger paid the driver while you hopped onto the pavement. The two of you walked inside the hotel, and you felt just as overwhelmed as yesterday, when you first walked into the lobby. The hotel was glamorous, and when you saw luxury like this on their tour, you were reminded of how far Queen had come.

“Shall we order the champagne now, or in our room?” Roger asked, looking at you. “Let’s go to the bar and ask for a bottle.”

“Alright love.” Roger answered, giving you a small kiss on the side of your head. You walked to the bar, asking for a bottle of their finest champagne. The bartender spoke before you could ask.

“If you want glasses to take to your room, ask Mila in the kitchen. The glasses from the bar have to stay here.” You nodded and thanked him, Roger untangeled his arms from you, and went to the kitchen. You picked up the bottle of champagne the bartender gave you. He slightly leaned over the counter, his eyes set on Roger when he walked away.

“That is Roger Taylor right? From Queen?” He asked, looking curiously at you. Your relationship with Roger was public, but not too public, and you wondered if he knew.

“Yes he is. We just came back from their show.” You replied, giving him an inviting smile. He looked at you, studying your features.

“Then you must be Y/n. The pictures are always very blurry, but your hair and posture gives you away. Lucky girl, with him next to you. He really likes you, I can see that from miles away.” His kind words were nice to hear, often people tried to tell you Roger only wanted you for the sex, and tried to break you so you would snap and tell them the things they wanted to hear. This man was nice, you liked that.

“Thank you, that’s nice to hear. Well, I should go to the kitchen, check if Roger is behaving himself. Maybe I will see you again tomorrow.” He returned you kind goodbye, and went to help someone else.  

Roger opened your hotel room, and you followed him in, carrying the bottle of champagne, glasses and a small box of strawberries the kitchen girl told Roger he had to taste with the champagne. Roger wanted to carry the stuff, but you insisted it would hurt his hands even more, and that it wouldn’t be worth it.

“Let me draw a bath. Could you grab the towels and such?” Roger proposed, already going to the bathroom. You placed the bottle and the fruit on the table, and you started opening random cupboards to find a first aid kit. You heard Roger softly humming to himself while he filled the tub. When you two first saw your hotel room you were amazed by the huge bed, but when Roger looked into the bathroom he loved the bathtub. It was large enough for the both of you, and Roger wanted to take a bath in it from the second he saw it.

“Roger, they gave us beautiful strawberries!” You mused, while looking at the goods the girl put into the box. Little bowls filled with strawberries, some covered with chocolate. You put it with two glasses of champagne on a tray and walked towards the bathroom. Roger was filling the tub constantly testing the temperature with his fingers. You put the tray on the side table next to the tub, and went back into the bedroom. You remembered seeing a first aid kit in one of the cupboards, but you weren’t sure where you saw it. Searching through the stuff in the closet you found it behind your bathing suits, so you took it with you to the bathroom.

When you opened the door to the bathroom Roger was stripping of his shirt, and you stood still in the opening of the door, admiring the sight. He opened up the button of his pants, hissing softly when his sore hands went over the rough fabric. You put down the first aid kit, before walking up to him, and put your hands on his.

“Let me.” Your offer was by no means sexually intended, although Roger gave you a smile that made you shiver, but he kept quiet as he let you take off his trousers. He stepped into the tub, after closing the tap that was still pouring water into the bath.

“Well, aren’t you gonna join me?” He teased. You made your way over to the tub, stripping yourself of your clothing. Letting your underwear slide of your legs you looked at Roger sitting in the tub, looking up at your body with wide eyes. You slowly lowered your body into the water, in between Rogers legs, facing him, so you would have no trouble cleaning his hands.

“Come on, turn around love.” Roger asked, motioning for you to rest your back against his chest. “But I need to clean your hands Rog.” You answered, holding up the kit that you had placed next to the tub. “But I want to feel you first.” He hinted, softly touching your sides. “Not with those hands, it could get infected.” You told him, turning around so you could rest your back against his chest. He pouted slightly.

“I want to feel you come around my fingers.” He whispered in your ear, letting his hands slide to you back. You blushed heavily upon hearing his words, and he chuckled.

“We have been together for seven months now, and you still blush when I talk to you like that.” He grinned, knowing what his words did with you. You just reached behind you and grabbed a glass of champagne, handing it to him. By now you knew better than to respond. Roger was excellent when it came to dirty talk, and whatever you replied, he knew how to turn it around and make you fluster.   

“Let’s not let this overly expensive champagne go dull. Cheers, on the wonderful show you played tonight.” You tried to divert the topic. The glasses clinked when they touched, and you took a sip. The bubbles prickled on your tongue, and you found yourself actually enjoying the taste. The two of you put your glass on the table next to the bath. You were surprised by how this hotel seemed to have thought of everything, even small tables next to the bath to put your stuff on.

“It really is a lovely champagne.” You said, turning around to grab some strawberries. “I know something what would taste even better.” You practically heard his smirk when he said that.

“Roger we are in bath now, let me enjoy it before the water gets cold. I will clean your hands when we get out, and perhaps you can have a little taste.” You tried to sound stern, but didn’t really succeed. He chuckled softly, but listened to you as he just wrapped his arms around you in a hug, relaxing his body into the warm water.

“How would the afterparty be right now?” You wondered after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Roger let his thumb circle over your ribs.

“Probably boring without us. Why do you ask?” He questioned, scared you had wanted to go but didn’t dare to tell him.

“Just wondering. You know, I like the quiet for a change.” You turned your head slightly so you could look him in the eyes, smiling softly.

“Yeah it is nice. Strawberry?” The next ten minutes were filled with laughter, strawberries and some more champagne. Roger claimed he couldn’t touch the strawberries. “I am injured love!” So you had to feed them to him, a task you gladly performed.

“The water gets cold, shall we get out?” Roger asked. You shook your head, turning around to face him.

“Let me clean your hands first.”

“You can do that when we are out of the bath.”

“But it’s easier in  the water. I only have to clean ‘em. I’ll wrap your hands tomorrow before the show. Come on Rog, don’t be annoying.”

“Okay Love.”

You gently took his hands and washed them clean in the water. You grabbed the bottle of rubbing alcohol from the first aid kit, pouring a bit on a washcloth and gently cleaning his wounds with it. Roger hissed at the contact and the sting of the alcohol on his hands.

“Christ that hurts.” He cursed, pulling his hand back.

“Don’t be a baby Roger. It will hurt a lot more if it gets infected.” You said, taking his hands again.

“You are lucky you are naked right now so I can’t focus on thinking about witty replies.” Roger threatened chuckling. You ignored his comment and gave his hand a final sweep with the cloth.

“See, all done. That wasn’t so bad wasn’t it?” You cooed, patting his blonde hair.

“Can I get a get better kiss?” Roger asked with a smile on his face. You softly kissed his fingertips, before bringing your face closer to his so you could kiss his lips. You pressed a featherlight peck on his lips, pulling away before Roger got the chance to deepen the kiss.

“Let’s get out of the bath.” You teased, stepping out and wrapping a towel around you. “I might even let you fuck me now you’ve been a good boy.”

“What did you say?” Roger choked on his words and quickly climbed out of the bath, almost slipping in his rush.

“I think you heard me perfectly.”

[untitledpseudonym]

The Director’s Cut

“ANNNNND CUT” 

A loud click and a gruff voice smelling of smuggled cigars and bourbon fills the set of director Randy McCullahan’s horror film studio. 

He steps out of his director’s chair, setting aside his glass of Eagle Rare, and starts walking

 to his star. She is currently laying on the ground of the kitchen dining room set, and covered in latex intestines and scarlet red theatrical blood.  

“What is it now, Mick?” the beautiful raven actor says, raising her hands up in confusion. Randy ignores her briefly to acknowledge his 7 ft star looming over the annoyed, fakely mutilated actress. 

“Chet, just wanna say, you’re doing a great job. Really embodying the killer vibe. Make sure you go back to makeup artists to get your mask refitted, it really seems to be slipping off.” Chet looks at the director, emotionlessly, his Ice blue eyes making it’s way past the thin film that covers the eye holes of his goat mask, piercing the director, and walks away towards the makeup crew.

“Heh, truly a method actor.” he says

“Uh, hello!” says the annoyed, actress. Randy sighs, displeasingly. 

“Ah, yes of course. You.” He says pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “Whaddya mean me?!” she says standing up. Letting the fake guts and blood spill and drip of her. “That’s just it, Eve! It’s you! You’re not truly terrified. Your performance all day has been absolutely dreadful! You have shown no emotion in your death scene in 60 takes! We’ve burnt through 2 and a half hours of valuable film time just because you choose not to act! Like what am I even paying you for?!” Randy says yelling at her. Eve puts her hands on her hips. “I have given you my all for the entirety of this production! I talked to the other producers and crewmates and they all agree I've done the scene right the first 15 takes AT LEAST!” She spits back. Randy looks back at the crewmates and back at her. “Is that right?” he asks softly. Eve crosses her arms. “That’s right.” 

Randy nods and walks over to his director’s chair, softly repeating to himself: “uh-huh, that’s right, huh? Uh-huh, that’s right, huh? Uh-huh, that’s right, huh?” over and over until he gets to his chair and grabs the half drunk glass of Eagle Rare, and launches it, gently grazing the ear of the once righteous, now fearful actress. “This is my fucking set!” Randy bellows. “My fucking production! We will film until you all say your lines in sleep fucking paralysis! I don’t give a fuck how right you think it is, bitch! As long as i’m paying for your shit, you will deliver! Let me reiterate for all of you, since according to your ring leader Eve, you all support her claims.” Randy reaches under his directors chair and pulls out a M1911 pistol and fires off two bullets into the studio warehouses ceiling. Everyone shouts and ducks,some flee the set, clearly afraid of the director’s rant. “AS LONG AS IM PAYING FOR YOUR SHIT, YOU WILL FUCKING DELIVER!.” Randy shots above the petrified chaos he has commenced. He glances over at the terrified faces of his cast and crew and notices chet in the distance standing looking at him, fearlessly. Randy points his gun over at Chet. “See! True fucking actor right there, EVE! Take note.” Randy glances down at his watch and back at the terrified film cast. “Well, Chet earned you all the right to take five. See you all on set soon.” Randy waltzes off the set, but not before giving eve a death stare. 

“I fucking hate that creep.” Eve said to her friend Caroline, who was laying across from her on the italian leather couch.  “Eh, you get used to it. I mean, hell, I’ve been placed damn near every one of his casts and it’s basically the same song and dance. No matter how hard you try, he will make you repeat takes, Over and over again. You do the same things and he gets the same result. Personally, I think he does it until he gets tired.” She says looking at her. “Don’t let it get to you.” 

“That’s the thing Caroline, it does get to me. Everything was the complete opposite since my first day shooting. He was vibrant, likable even, but now he somehow managed to turn not only himself, but the entire cast and crew against me. You’re legit the ONLY one who will talk to me.” Caroline blinks twice and yawns. “Well, I’m not talking to you. I’m your fucking dog, you fool.” Caroline says.

“Oh.” Eve says. 

“As the designated therapy dog for everyone in Randy's movies, I’m used to having to listen to my master’s bullshit, over and over again. In the end though, it’s the same result. Always.”

“...What’s that? I didn’t hear you.” Eve said, focusing on removing her makeup in the mirror. 

“Oh, haha. Very hilarious. Maybe I should give Kevin Hart a call and tell him he has some new competition.” 

“Oh, Puh-Lease, shouldn’t you be sniffing your asshole or something?” 

“Well maybe you should--” 

A loud knock banged on the trailer door. A deep gruff voice spoke. “Eve Kraken? Are you decent?” the person on the other door said. Another voice spoke a bit more quietly. “Why don’t we just kick that bitches door down. She’s probably busy talking up her next toy for the evening anyways.” Eve gritted her teeth and slammed down the makeup wipes she had in her hand and marched to the door swinging it open with force. It was one of the producers. “Miss Kraken, we need you on set like right now.” Randy stepped in front of the producer. “You stupid fucking bitch.” he said angrily. “You took off your goddamn makeup, didn’t you?” 

“Well you said take five, so I was gonna re apply the makeup for the next scene we are gonna do.” she said, honestly.

“The next scene? The next scene. Davis, you hear her? The next scene. Bitch, We are still on the scene that you can’t fucking get right in the first fucking place.” Randy said sternly through closed teeth and clenched fists. “Just put on your fucking makeup and get your tight ass back on set before I give you two black eyeshadows that will take fucking weeks to get off. That’s not a threat. It’s a promise.” His Rum and Cigar breathe spread out on her face like a wave of pure disgust and hatred. She felt numb. All of his words had invoked a certain fear and rage inside her. This wasn’t just today, you see. This was everyday for Eve. She HATED randy. She FEARED Randy. The check she would receive every week for this treatment, seemed not even worth it. She gulped. “Yes, Randy. I'll be on set in five, please just, five.” Randy gruffed and walked away. The producer shuts the door, before briefly saying “Way to go, retard. Now we’ll all pay.” Once she can hear their footsteps fade away from the trailer, Eve screams. A trail of tears drip down her face as she punches her makeup desk over and over under her hands are bruised and bloodied. A small knife rumbles and tumbles off the desk. And onto the floor, making a slight, but noticeable clunking noise onto her hard wood floors. Eve looks down at it and kneels down at the small blade. 

“Take it.” Eve looks up at Caroline who was now sitting across from her. 

“What?” Eve said.

“Take the fucking knife and kill the fucker.” Caroline said to Eve. 

“Your mouth, it’s moving..” Eve said startled. 

“I know. Get the knife. Now.”

The knife that once sat between the now talking canine and distressed girl was now neatly tucked in Eve’s hand. It’s settled. 

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

“Come in.”

Randy said after three knocks on his office door.  He put down his cigar and pencil, drawing his attention away from his notepad to the disheveled Eve. Her knuckles were bloody and bruised. Her eyes were puffy and red from the tears she shedded. She had a knife in her hand. 

“The fuck are you doing in here. I told you to get your tight ass on set.” 

“Why?” Eve said calmly walking towards his desk. 

“Bitch, why? We have a fucking movie to shoot and you can’t get a fucking simple scene right. That’s why. Now get out of my office.” 

“Why do you act so cold hearted towards me?”

“What? Listen either get out of my office or I will make you get out.”

“Oh I'd like to see you try.” Eve whips around and shuts and locks the door and slams her bruised hands on his desk. 

“Now, tell me now. Before I do something, I am going to regret it.” 

“Bitch I don’t owe you a goddamn thing,” Randy sits up staring her dead in the face. “Now, go back on fucking set or so help me g--” Eve’s hand whips up and send her knife straight under the directors chin, slicing his throat. The adrenaline sends her into a fit of rage and she leaps onto his lap over the desk and continues to stab him repeatedly in the shoulders and head, crying and screaming. “IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU”. Eventually she ceases. Now covered in her tormentor's blood, she cries in his lap. She sniffles and starts to walk towards the door. She knows she’s going to jail. She knows that her life is over. But jail is no comparison to the hell she had to endure from him.  She notices on Randy’s Desk a yellow notepad with her name etched at the top. The color and font of the blue ink pressed on the pad was old and it cried out to the girl, begging her to read it. Eve wiped her hands on Randy’s pants and picked up the notepad and started reading it’s contents:

EVE

The Art of filmmaking doesn’t oftentimes require the effort put forth upon the actors cast and crew. It’s also the director to get their actors to put in their best efforts. Eve was my ultimate test to this new philosophy I created. I didn’t pick her for her acting talent alone, no. I picked her because she grew up well. Two loving parents, upper-middle class lifestyle in Los Angeles, plenty of friends etc. Knowing this and her talent in horror movies, I understand that there may be a grey area when it comes to achieving true fear and paranoia and capturing it on film. So, much rather than encouraging her to undergo method acting, I am going to be doing  a little bit of acting myself. I must belittle, hurt, bully, and cut her down to my best of efforts. She will HATE me. This however will develop a true sense of fear. She will no longer be acting because chet is chasing her character. She will be acting because she will be in fear of me causing more harm to her. This publication will be proof to other directors to follow my footsteps to really push their actors to their limits. I will continually be posting updates on this project of mine during my time filming my horror film. 

Eve covered her mouth in shock. He wasn’t the villain in this story. He just wanted a genuine reaction out of her. To capture a real piece of human terror on film. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t know what to do. She teared up as she began to tremble in fear. Her eyes darted back and forth between Randy’s corpse and the Notepad. She just killed a man. The blood was on her hands. There are knocks on the door. Fuck, What should she do. She can’t run. The office is blocked off. They’re calling for Randy. Shit, Shit, SHIT. She’s trapped. This is her first of many cells. Her room to sit in her regret before the mental regret of her actions. The door is barged in and Chet walks in still in his killer costume. He glances over at the body and over at her.

Motionlessly looks at her.

It’s all over for her.

“AAAANNNNNNNNNNND CUT”

“Eve that was fantastic work, your reaction was fucking perfect.” Said the director. 

Eve helped up Randy, who had trouble getting up after she sat on his lap.

“Do we have to do that again, since it was perfect?” Randy said whinyily 

“Unfortunately yes. Over and Over again.”

[mykingpins]

Songs I Love (BTS)

AYO EVERYONE LISTEN UP RIGHT NOW! sit down, strap in, grab some popcorn or chocolate and be prepared for the most real post I will do or will ever do. This post is inspired by another post my friend @sugawithtae so check it out :) Just a warning if you don’t like cursing or realness or just too much craziness i suggest not reading this. But for the brave hearted, welcome and enjoy my post. 

Baepsae firstly, THE FUCKING BASS! You can already tell that this song is gonna be LITTTTTT! JHoooooooooope starts the song with his rap/part/i don’t even care cause he can say anything and its amazing. (accompanied with his  hip thrusts :) ) Then Namjoon enters with his ‘farmer looking’ ass and adds a ‘namjoon’ rap (you know what i mean) and VVVVVVVV!!!! *clap* KIM  *clap* TAE *clap* HYUNG! This guy! You know when the beat becomes less intense but its still strong and like V’s fucking vooooiiiicccceeee just adds tooooo much to the song. (but honestly its the right amount. idea what I’m saying rn)   and THEN they come BACK with ‘THEY CALL ME … BAEPSAE’ and its just sooo fucking LIT and uggggghhhhh and am i the only one that dies when Suga and Namjoon rap together but their rap this time is just the right amount of hype and lit-ness. then we go back to V - already went through this then kookie comes in doing idek but i like it. (if you picture the dance practice video while reading this you would probs understand this a lot better. (why the hell i said it now idk I’m a dumbass) but yeah) YOU MUST BE KIDDING YOU YOU MUST BE KIDDING ME! then goes back to V - (god this guy appress too often) question: WHERE IS JIN?!?!?!?! then Suga and Jhooooppppppe wrap the song up in the best way Sope can and i love it sooooo much. but yeah (I’m out of breathe and I’m only typing *gasping for breathe* one word to describe this song: matches (cause it lights the WHOLE FUCKING ROOM) 

Dead Leaves lets start this review thingy by saying this: Min fucking Yoongi is a bloody GENIUS like actually- how he composed this song i have no idea i love how JIN started the song and kookie followed it up so nicely this song is awesome for the people that get hype too often (*raises hand*) and need a chill song that’s still cool and everything then this is the song for you the bg beats are so slow but effective in this song and really emphasises the members’ voices and i really love it Suga himself rapped just before the chorus and it was the best transition anyone could ever think of then the maknae line took over the chorus so beautifully kookie is good at everything so all imma say is that *clap* *clap* (yep: i said nothing) but…… PARK *hit* JI *punch* MIN *scream* i just can’t i really can’t. if you didn’t know Jimin is my bias (yes I’m very unfortunate- he is tooooo fucking perfect it hurts- all the members are tho) his voice is the closest thing to an angels voice and if this means death then i will gladly accept it (Baekhyun’s voice is also like an angel. V’s deep voice adds a perfect dimension to this song which also happens to transition well with Namjoon’s also very deep voice rap and its awesome NEVER NEVER FALL- i can’t honestly say that V’s voice in this part really pisses me off cause its so good. THEN JHOOOPPPPEEEE comes in and really adds just even hype to this song. I honestly love him so much and ‘hope’ (wink wink) that his mixtape is just like this The repetition of the song does not get old and never does V’s voice. Its honestly a very good song for those who entered the fandom through hype songs like DOPE and FIRE and wanna listen to slower songs but still want that hype connection with the song then this is the song for you. to describe this song in one word: soothing its a great getaway from the crazy hectic world and it makes you feel happy when you sad (at least for me anyway)

No More Dream now i feel like not a lot of people will agree with me but, I LOVE BTS’ DEBUT SONG. it honestly gets me so excited cause 1) the song is lit 2) the beat is bomb 3) they are all in fetus clothing and hair and it makes me feel like a proud mother (even though they are older than me) anyway, this song is just honestly amazing. BTS should be proud that they debuted with this song and if no one likes it, i hope they know i LOVE it. As soon as i came across BTS (after watching We Are Bulletproof part 2) i clicked on No More Dream and i remember saying ‘this song is so good’ and at that time, it only had like 1 million views. i couldn’t believe that it only have 1 million views but I was glad that 1 million other people had watched it and around 500K liked. wow that got deep overall its a ‘ayyyyyyyyy’ song (if ya know what i mean *wink*) i honestly don’t have anything to say about this song other than… ‘JUST LISTEN TO IT’ House Of Cards now this shit is……. not for everyone. This is a slow song and yes this song will kill you slowly and painfully – so I’m warning you if you aren’t emotionally, mentally and physically strong enough don’t listen (let’s be honest none of us are) This song is PURE VOCAL LINE GOODNESS and thank god it’s only the vocal line cause i would not be able to deal with the rapper line adding their deep af voices*cough* Namjoon *cough* so here i go: 1) Kim TaeTae: if you haven’t noticed from this post that i have a problem with Tae (his my ex-bias (long story) and current bias wrecker) and for obvious reasons (he’s so bipolar). This song really annoys me cause he is so perfect and his voice is like melted dark chocolate (trust me) which is (if you wanted to know) my favourite kind of chocolate and this song is just ugh anyway moving on. 2) Kim Seokie: my beautiful angelic visual/cure of the group was amazing in this song. Im sure that Jinnie fans were dying but honestly he was my saviour in this song. His light and calming voice added dimension to this song that i feel like most people don’t appreciate enough. 3) Jeon Kookie: yes yes the golden maknae killing everyone again. I try really hard not to listen or stare at him for too long cause he’s hypnotising and i can’t afford to have the maknae line on my bias/bias wrecker positions- i just can’t physically allow that. But his voice is like…. wine. Like hella rich, red wine. your welcome 4) park jimin: im not even gonna give him a cute nickname cause THIS BITCH THINK HE CAN DO THIS SHIT AND SING LIKE THAT AND I WILL GLADLY ACCEPT… BITCH WHO DO YOU THINK I AM. i can honestly say that this song made me a more vulgar and salty and rude and thirsty army- more specifically jimin’s voice made me this way. HIS HIGH NOTES ARE LIKE ugh i wish i could see jimin IRL and tell him ‘boi you can’t be doing this no more cause there won’t be any armies left’ honestly even if you’re not a jimin stan you will agree that his high notes in this song is literally ORGASMIC (is that a word idk) anyway- (sigh) just go listen to the song if you wanna die, thats all i have to say

Cypher Part 4 ladies and gentlemen, hear me loud and clear when i say CYPHER PART 4 IS MY FAVOURITE KPOP SONG TO DATE- NOTHING HAS BEATEN MY CYPHER SO FAR- some of you may say ‘honey there are way better songs than cypher out there. i don’t understand why you like it so much’ well to that i say ‘LEAVE ME BE’ this song has a bass that will cut you. If you like hype songs that are ‘slower’ (for a hype song anyway) with a killer bass and combinations of rapping styles then HONEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING– go check this song out. i know this maybe sad but i have actually cried sometimes (yes cry ik) to this song because this is my anthem and i have never found a song that i love so much and connect to so much. Namjoon, Yoongi and Hobi all have different styles of rapping which makes a song that attracts a lot of people cause ugh just go listen to it. i feel like i could go on days about this song and how good it is but trust me listen to it 3 times (yes 3 times trust me)

anyway thank you for reading this and if you skipped over some i completely understand - i rant a lot. strong power thank you

[mynameisgibberish]

Things in TLT that make my soul leave my body

Everyone’s done theirs already but I need to

Prologue

Daddy doesn't love me and mommy is a god

We were geeking out on ancient Greek at the New York Metropolitan Museum Of Art

Mr. Jackson Oh-oh-oh-oh!

Then she vanished in the ether with a demon scream

Better run and don't start crying 'Cause you're monster chow

Strong

the whole damn song but

No coming home for dinner yeah, he sounds like a real winner

Why be blah when there's aquamarine

STRONG

Another Terrible Day

Of course, being alive is temporary

Does no one watch the orientation film?

I'm the god of wine and I'm dying of thirst

Their Sign

I know that the future looks blurry, but, not to worry,

THIS WHOLE PART

My mom raised me all on her lonesome When I would reach out No one else would be there Well I want my birthday cards and fishing trips Child support and homework tips Don't mean to whimper or whine

When parents are distant, or seem non-existent

Put You in Your Place

The god of strategy, the god of war

It's gonna be bloody murder she wrote

I'm gonna c-c-c-c-capture the flag!

The Campfire Song

AGAIN the whole damn song

the harmonization in the chorus

I'd wait by the phone, but the phone never rings

EVERY OH NO

But planting and planting and planting's a pain

He's not really my dad, but I'm sort of his child...

EVERY SINGLE THING THAT COMES OUT OF PERCY’S MOUTH

EVERY. SINGLE. WORD. 

Good Kid

Fuck thi s wh ole s ong,,

I can’t even do this

FUCK

Percy Jackson is my fucking child

Killer Quest

Hades took my mom, I'm taking her back

I'm coming on your killer quest x2

SEAWEED BRAIN

Lost!

To Los Angeles x3

What if we blow up that one too?

And we're never gonna make it to LA

Dude, like listen, please, half-bloods to monsters smell like Mickey D's

I don't wanna die in the garden state!

THE FUCKING SQUIRRELL

THEY ARE JUST KIDS

My Grand Plan

You better wise up, 'cause I'll rise up

It may not be my quest, but maybe it's mine to win

So the best thing you can do is run away

I will be great

I'll never be invisible again

Drive

But we bested freakin’ Furies!

Stay alive

So pedal to the metal and drive!

Whoa. Look! A lady with a puppy! 

Like an arrow from Orion

And don't get dead

Now we’re looking like contenders

I'll save my mom and save the planet

The Tree on the Hill

FUCK

Up on Half-Blood Hill

We had to make a stand-

But "maybe" doesn't let me go back and save her

Of all I failed to be

D.O.A.

No hope of survival, You're dead on arrival!

Ooh! Um, do you have any Josh Groban?

Come sail away, come sail away

Son of Poseidon

Everything I try to do will fail, Never once will I prevail

What belongs to the sea, Can always return

I'm the son of Poseidon

'Cause you're the two best friends, This screw-up ever had

The Last Day of Summer

BASICALLY LUKE’S REPRISE

So I'll do anything I don't care if I hurt anyone It doesn't pay to be a good kid, A good kid, a good son

Bring on the Monsters

Are we ever gonna once have it easy?

When it's time to rise; and stand your ground

'Cause the sea doesn't like to be restrained

THE LAST 3O SECONDS WITH ALL THE HARMONIES

I’M D Y I N G 

I KNOW I SAW IT LIVE BUT YOU PICK UP ON DIFFERENT STUFF JUST LISTENING

[nanyoky]

Nell’s Preemptive “I Told You So” Riverdale Predictions Roundup

So we’re three eps in to season two, and one of my favorite activities with an active series is to wildly speculate about what’s going to happen so I can gloat if I’m right or turn the possibilities into fic if I’m wrong. 

Things I think might happen:

~The Killer: Let’s get the easy one out of the way. We all know the writers are trying way too hard to cast suspicion on Hiram for it to actually... be Hiram. I mean he’s a shady dude, no doubt. But I really don’t think it’s actually him responsible for all the shootings and deaths. So who is it? Someone with strong black and white morals. Shooter appears to be Caucasian male- middle aged.

I’ve seen speculation that it’s either Sheriff Keller or Hal Cooper. Both strong options. Both very morally black and white to a painful fault. Add in that Sheriff Keller seems like- REALLY BAD at being sheriff (altho an A+ dad) and that seems like a good guess. This would also cause so much angst for Kevin, who is now a much more involved and rounded character. Hal is not particularly threatening, but a bit of a dick so that doesn’t seem far off either. Angst for Betty who already feels like she’s inherited the worst parts of her family and acknowledged that there are things they just #don’t talk about. So she would have sort of seen it coming. And they both fit the general physical description of the shooter, so if it’s just one person acting on their own, solid options.

Also seen guesses that it’s Betty’s long lost brother which seems kinda... cheap. This is a soap opera/suburban gothic. Shock value is worth it’s weight in gold here in genre town. For the killer to be a mysterious figure that we know exists but haven’t met yet seems kinda lame. He may be a good red herring tho- like FP in season 1.

Personally, I’m thinking more of and Orient Express situation. Multiple killers. Maybe the Messed Up Parents brigade all got together and decided to do something about the crime in their town, Hot Fuzz style. Or multiple motives with one killer claiming credit for the other attacks to gain legitimacy. It’s early. I’m still gathering crackpot theories.

~Archie’s Whole Deal (TM): Archie is going to shoot someone who doesn’t deserve it on accident. This isn’t even a theory. We all know it. Big piece of my money is on Ronniekins cuz they got together way too early and Hiram gave a very brief but threatening version of the shotgun talk so that could be real messy. She wouldn’t die. But it would seriously mess up their relationship and how all the characters see Archie. And how he sees himself because he already always feels like everything is his fault so if a case wound up where something terrible ACTUALLY WAS he would not be in a good place.

Another piece of my bank is on Fred because how awful would it be for Archie to accidentally kill the one person he’s so obsessed with protecting. God. So messed up. HERE FOR IT.

Maybe Betty. Maybe Jughead. Maybe Kev. Childhood friends. Ouch. I don’t think they’d actually kill one of the core four, but we all know how much network tv loves to kill their gays so.... 

But aside from that I am calling this HARD: Archie has not told us everything about what happened at the diner. The shooter said something or had some other identifying characteristic or SOMETHING that Archie is scared to tell people about. He’s a really bad liar and his reticence right after the event felt like it went beyond survivor’s guilt. 

Possibilities for this: the Black Hood said something that indicated a personal connection or a threat of more violence. It seems like in all the flashbacks, the diagetic sound is cut or distorted, but we can hear the shooter shouting. And normally when witnesses look at suspects, the police ask the lineup to repeat a line that the perp said so the victim can hear their voice- ESPECIALLY in a case where the perp was wearing a mask. That this didn’t happen makes it seem like archie didn’t tell Sheriff keller any details on what the guy said, which seems weird if it was just “get on the ground!” or “don’t move” or something. I dunno. This could just be a writing oversite. But it could be something so lets wildly speculate shall we.

OR: Archie knows who the shooter is. Or has a guess. He seems REAL stuck on the green eyes thing. Almost to the point where i don’t believe it. Like- I know the guy was wearing a mask so the eyes are the only detail he could pick out, but I don’t really notice people’s eye colors that often- especially when in a high stress situation. It seems weird how sure Archie is and how much he fixates on the detail. Like if he just looks the right person in the eyes he’ll know for sure. In the words of the meme world “okay... that seems fake, but okay...”

SO maybe he knows who it is. Or has a guess who it is. Maybe the killer threatened something along the lines of “you better lead them away from me or I”m coming right back” so Archie picked some implausibly minute detail to feed the cops to comply, which feeds into his guilt, thus Team Kickass.

~Pollykins on The Farm: Okay this one may have like zero basis aside from a gut feeling (and one time I got a gut feeling that Captain America: Civil War wasn’t going to disappoint me, and here we are, so go ahead and take this with a metric ton of salt) but like? Are we? Worried? About this farm Polly is going to? That there’s just some farm upstate that can’t wait to have a pregnant teen hang out with them? And the way she said “they still have room for me” makes it sound like there’s a lot of people there? So it’s not like- a plot of land and a little house she and Jason were thinking of buying- but a community they were going to click into? Add in the HEAVY Zodiac killer vibes and I am... concern. I am very concern about the possibility that maybe last season was late 50s/early 60s esque Suburban Gothic themed, but what if this season is... late 60s/early 70s esque serial killers.

Polly. Baby. Angel. I fully support your decision to leave Riverdale but please consider starting a club of #Sensible People with Joaquin instead of joining the Manson Family.

~What’s Up With Hermione- I Mean- Right? I’ve seen a lot of people saying “I really liked Hermione in season one but what the fuck happened? Why is she so awful now?” Veronica made a reference in Season one to her mom taking pills/drinking, but she seems to be drinking a lot more this season.

And I mean- she’s got shit going on. Her husband is back. There’s a lot of baggage with that. He knows she had a bit of a tryst while he was in jail so their relationship is likely strained at best. Also she knows that he threatened her safety to their fucking daughter which is just wow. Gold star hubby right here. So maybe her behavior/attitude is a reflection that she’s now back in a toxic relationship and things were more like this before Hiram went to jail, Veronica just didn’t notice because she was The Old Veronica and wrapped up in her own little world. That’s entirely plausible.

But what’s also plausible is Hermione playing a long game. She proved herself very smart and very shrewd in season one with all that happened with her husband and the serpents and Fred.  And her plot seemed to end off with Fred giving her a bit of a carpe diem when it came to her husband and their shady business dealings. Maybe she’s taking him up on that call to action, but very much in her own way. Does she want to Bring Hiram Down completely? Does she want to divorce him? Does she just want a bit more agency and control over her family and her life? We’ll see. And I’m excited to.

~Your Secrets.... Your Sins....: Is anyone else concerned about this phrasing from the Black Hood’s letter? Is it just me? I mean it’s not exactly so esoteric that it might be a coincidence, but there were a lot of people at that party and any one of them could be/have a connection to someone who might want to kill people. I’m not really including this in the killer speculation just because it’s less a prediction, more of a detail that is making me #STRESSED

Things that won’t happen but I can dream can’t I:

~I have this really intense fantasy of Cheryl hooking up with some guy who’s like- the goonish musclehead of the week for her. And they go out to the woods to make out and he gets a bit fresh. And then doesn’t react well to her rebuffing him and gets rough. And then she just straight up kills him in a bloody mess. Probably with a knife with an ornate handle because of course she probably has one of those lying around somwhere. OR with some more brutal and unexpected weapon like a crowbar. All this happens while Little Red Riding Hood by Sam and the Pharaohs plays. Cheryl looks great. The goon looks dead. Scene cuts from Cheryl’s wide eyed, heavy breathing, lip trembling, blood splattered face to black right on the “Aroooooooo” at the end of the song. Hire me CW I’m your exact brand of Extra AF but I’m better at dialogue.

Likelyhood: slim to none. This is a weirdly specific need I have and I don’t know how it would fit into the larger plot. I just need it real bad.

~I want Joaquin to come back and for there to be drama between him and Kevin because TRUST but ultimately they have a heart to heart about how different their lives have been because we know Kevin’s dad is very supportive but like- we don’t know anything about joaquin’s home life other than that he’s in a gang? and people just don’t join gangs cuz they think it’s fun? so I’m feeling Tale As Old As TIme: parents kicked him out when he came out and the Serpents were the only place he could go and FP didn’t fucking care he was gay just so long as he was loyal and so that explains that complicated relationship there. And so they get back together and continue looking very cute and in love and happy. That I feel is a good balance between the v. real “being a gay kid in a small town sucks ass” drama and the v. real desire a lot of us have to just fucking let the gays be happy for once goddammit.

Likelyhood: Low. They really seem to be steering Season 2!Kevin away from Season 1!Kevin hard so the probability of bringing back his old side character love interest seems very very low. But I dunno. I think they made an error in underestimating how attached we’d get to Joaquin’s pretty face so if they’re trawling social media they might see all the “i miss snicksnake boy...” and take pity on us.

~The “Blossoms in the Attic” joke I have been fucking waiting for since Episode 1

Likelyhood: low. I feel like if it was going to happen, it would probably have been Veronica during Secrets and Sins.