#someone would hunt me down and hike their ass to my cabin

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Physically I'm a human, mentally I'm a betta fish in a 1-gallon tank with no plants, no filter, no heater, and swim bladder disorder because my owner has only been feeding me excessive amounts of floating food pellets.

[pastas-are-creepy]

Proxy Camp Counselor Headcanons

Jeff

Doesn't seem to really like the kids at first.

He'd groan if he had to lead an activity for his campers.

Slowly but surely, he starts to warm up to them and eventually starts playing with the campers and whatnot.

The kids seem to like Jeff and enjoy playing around with him.

Before Jeff got warmed up to the kids, he'd be annoyed by any of them crying. He still kind of is annoyed by their crying, but he tries to help them out.

A kid has a crush on another camper? Jeff's gonna be so smug and tease them about it.

He'll also at least try to help the kid confess to their crush, but this man has no idea how to confess to anyone.

During the last day of camp, when the kids started to give one another teary eyed goodbyes, Jeff was a bit upset. He grew attached to the kids and he didn't want to see them go.

He'd give the kids hugs and wave them goodbye when their on the boat ride to the island where their bus is so they could get home.

'There's always next week's kids.' He thought as he proceeded to help the other camp counselors pick things up.

Liu

Unlike his brother, Liu seemed to like the campers and vice versa.

He wouldn't hesitate to play with them, eat with them, and just do camp-y things with the kids.

Liu is a bit of a mother hen when it comes to keeping the kids in check.

"What are you doing?" "Stop that right now." "What do you mean 'why'? You're going to get hurt!"

His voice cracks when he either raises his voice or yells. The kids point it out, which makes this Woods brother blush.

The kids respond with "Yes, Mama Liu." "'Kay, Mum." "Yes, Mother.", or anything along those lines.

Liu isn't sure how to respond to that.

Sully doesn't really mind the kids, as long as they don't piss him or Liu off.

Sully gives the kids terrible advice, and will laugh if the kids act on it, making Liu screech. Here comes Mama Liu again!

He likes telling the kids scary stories and will ever so slightly chuckle when he scares them. This leads Liu to apologize profusely for Sully scaring the kids.

If a kid in crying when Liu is fronting, he'll do anything and everything he can to help the kid.

If a kid is crying when Sully is in control, he wouldn't want to deal with it, but will if he has to.

A kiddo has a crush on someone? You bet Liu is going to think of ways to help them confess to the other kid.

Sully, like Jeff, would be smug about it and would tease the kid.

Last day of camp? Liu will have the idea of creating shirts for the campers with the camp logo printed on it. Just as a little momento.

The kids would sign one another's shirts, as would the counselors.

Sully would give the kids one last piece of terrible advice.

"Remember, eat ass, smoke grass, and sled fast."

"SULLY, NO-"

A sad smile would spread across Liu's face as he waves the kids off, a sigh coming from him. He then proceeds to help the other counselors clean up, his mind pondering about the next week's group of kids.

Eyeless Jack

Jack isn't sure how to approach the kids. He's fairly introverted and quiet, ad he's usually reading.

He may be a counselor, but he also doubles as a nurse to lend Nurse Ann a hand. That, and this boy reads a lot about anatomy.

If the kids are on Free Time, some of them will join Jack under a tree, wanting to read with him. Jack doesn't know what to say at first.

And a minute or two...

"Do you see this? This is your femur."

"Ooo!"

This guy will try not to crack a smile at the kids' interest, but there's always that one little smile that he'll show. The kids point it out immediately. Jack will try to deny the fact that he was smiling while in fact, he was.

The shy and quiet kids enjoy spending time with him and possibly bring their own books to read alongside Jack.

He sleeps in on the top bunk bed with another counselor (Helen) sleeps on the bottom. The campers in this cabin sleeo in their respective bunk beds.

If a kid cries, Jack will walk/sprint over and ask what happened. He will take a kid to the nurse's office if they got hurt . If its something else, Jack will talk to the kid(s) and see if there's a resolution to this.

Two kids secretly like each other? Jack's not so sure about how he could help with that, so he gets Liu to help the kid instead.

The last day of camp comes in sooner than he thought. He decided to help Liu with the shirts and signed them with the kids.

Did Jack get close with a few kids? Yep, and now they were leaving. It gave his heart a squeeze.

He gave the kids hugs, saying goodbye to them and watching the boat drive them away.

A sigh comes from Jack as he then turns around to clean up around the island the camp was on.

Bloody Painter/Helen

Like EJ, Helen isn't so sure how to talk to the kids at first either. So, the kids walk up and talk to him first.

Helen is a quiet person so he doesn't say much to the kids. He kind of wants to just draw or paint.

The Arts and Crafts building is where he usually hangs out, and doesn't expect any kids to come there at Activity Time. He thinks that the kids would find it boring.

When the kids to come over, Helen tries to hide his surprise. The kids seriously wanted to learn how to do art? It made him a little happy.

Helen handed out paper, paintbrushes, and paint to the kids, the ravenette wanting to paint with them. "Go crazy." He'd tell the group of kids before beginning to paint.

A few kids would ask him what he was painting, the male showing the kids and chuckling when they asked how he could paint like that.

"Practice. You'll never get better unless you practice."

One day in camp, he made a paintable banner for the kids to paint on. It had the camp's name on it and it needed color.

Everything was going smoothly, until the kids started flinging paint everywhere. They were wearing smocks so paint didn't get paint on them.

Helen watched the kids, a small smile on his face as he shook his head. He'd stop them, but the kids were having too much fun.

Once the banner was finished, the black haired male brought the banner inside the Arts and Crafts building to dry, then lead the kids to the beach to wash the paint off of their skin.

The paint came off easily, but now the kids were goofing around, splashing each other. A couple kids splashed Helen, a playful glare coming from the quiet male as he splashed them in return.

Oh look, it was a massive splash fight. And everyone was getting wet.

If a kid had feelings for someone, Helen would try to give the camper advice and even allowed them to make a card to secretly drop off to their love interest.

It's the last day of camp, and Helen is obviously sad to see the kids go. He was having fun with them this week.

He signed kids shirts if they asked him to, the kid hugging the counselor after. Helen ruffled the kid's hair, a sad, soft smile on his face.

As the other counselors waved to the kids, Helen walked into Arts and Crafts building, picked up the now laminated banner and hung it up.

The kids saw it, and cheered from the boat, waving to Helen, who stood up on a large rock and waved back with a smile.

"See you next summer..!"

Masky/Tim

Tim wasn't sure if the kids would like him. He wasn't really experienced with kids- but was anyone here? No, it was all of their first times.

As the kids arrived, a few kids eagerly ran over to him, greeted Tim happily. Not wanting to shoo them away, he greeted them in return, the male smiling a little.

He's pretty much the father of the camp. He worries for the campers' safety if they try to do something risky. Tim doesn't raise his voice as much as Liu does.

"Hey, kiddo. I know you're all cool and all, but can you get down in case you get hurt?"

He takes his group of kids for hikes in the woods, and even took them camping with Brian and Toby one night.

The kids look up to him as a father figure. He's used to Toby looking up to him, but the kids looking up at him was rather different.

"... Don't look at me that way."

"You're my dad! Boogie Woogie Woogie!"

He shares a bunk bed with Brian, who the kids who sleep in the cabin with them call Cabin Mom.

When it comes to organizing camp activities for every camper to do together, it starts of as planned then becomes chaotic.

What happened when Tim tried to organize a massive scavenger hunt?

Jeff, Sully, and a few kids were chasing the others around with snakes wrapped around a stick

The snakes are alive and well. Don't worry.

Tim just sighed and watched it all go down, laughing with a few counselors when Liu fronted and screamed when he saw that Sully had made Liu's body hold a stick with a live snake on it.

The kids want a camp pet? Tim just calls Toby over to hang out with the kids. It just end up with Toby clinging to Tim like a kid.

If a camper in his cabin has a nightmare and wants to sleep with him, he'll allow it, and will make room for the kid to sleep next to him.

Every morning, Tim and Brian walk out of their cabin with children clinging to them.

When the last day of camp arrives, Tim is bombarded with hugs from kids, who say that they don't want to leave. Tim is sad that the kids have to go as well. He actually felt like a father figure to the kids.

He signs the kids shirts, talking to them one last time and saying goodbye to them. He's really going to miss the kids, but was actually a little excited for next week's batch of kids.

Tim waved the kids off when they got on the boat, resting an arm on Brian's shoulder after. He's really gonna miss those kids, but he hopes to see them next summer.

Hoodie/Brian

Brian had mixed feelings about meeting the campers for the first time. As said before, this was everyone's first time dealing with actual kids at a summer camp.

When actually talking to the kids, he listened to them introduce themselves before he introduced himself. They seemed like good kids in his eyes.

He and Tim are a duo. They organize camp activities together, they plan games together, they practically do everything there together.

Brian had ran away from Sully when he chased him around with a snake. Yeahhh, Brian didn't enjoy that.

It was all Brian's idea to go camping with Tim, Toby, and the kids that were Brian and Tim's cabin. That night was a little chaotic, as the kids and Toby were playing hide and seek.

Brian was persuaded to play.

He got stuck in a hole while playing. Don't ask how.

The kids had to help him out of there.

A few kids came out to Brian one day at camp. There were three gay boys, a trans boy, an asexual girl, and a nonbinary person. He appreciated that the kids felt comfortable to tell him this and supported these kids.

If a kid had feelings for someone, Brian would help the kid confess to their love interest in any way he could. He wasn't a love guru or anything, but he wanted to help.

The last day of camp came and, like Tim, he was sad to see the kids go. He hopec that the kids had a good time at camp though.

As he signed the kids shirts, he'd ask if they had fun, which was answered by a bunch of "yes"'s. A smile would work it's way onto Brian's face, glad that they had fun.

As the boat drove away, Brian waved back, a smile still on his face. He felt Tim place his arm on his shoulder, that smile of his still there.

Toby

Toby was really excited to meet the kids when summer camp season rolled around.

Then COVID hit, making Toby sad

I'm kidding!!

The kids shared the same excitement Toby had when they greeted one another. He was bombarded with hugs, which made the male happier.

There were a couple kids there with tourette's as well, whom Toby related with. He didn't want these kids to be bullied like he used to, so he was quite protective of these kids.

When the group is being quiet during lunch in the mess hall, Toby will get up, stand in front of everyone to try to get them up and happy.

His tics started going off, his voice going higher and just funny. They were his funny tics, and the kids loved them.

How did that happen? Well, he tried telling a story about a girl named Emily.

"H-ello, I am Em-ily."

His voice went higher and his tics were just starting to be funny. One of his tics was a one handed dab.

"I cook an egg with a sp-oon."

Toby wasn't really sure why the kids, and some counselors, were laughing at first before realizing why. He had to admit, these tics were funny to him too.

"She cooked an egg with a spoon?" EJ asked, stifling a laugh.

"Fall in love with me! Em-il-y."

The story was getting all jumbled up and was hard to tell if Toby was telling a story or not. Toby, along with the kids and counselors were laughing.

When it comes to love advice, Toby isn't the best at it. So, he tries to be a wingman for a camper.

Yeah, he wasn't the best at that. He was trying his best and that was all that mattered.

Once the kids got together, Toby would be proud of the two kids and himself. He was glad that the two kids were happy.

Toby insists that everyone has waffles. He even gets the kids he sits with at a table to slam their hands on the table to the tune of "We Will Rock You" by Queen.

"We want, we want, waffles! Waffles!"

The other kids began to join them, along with Liu and surprisingly, Jeff.

Toby loves creating forts in his cabin with his campers and they all fall asleep in it.

When the last day of camp rolls around, Toby is just as sad as the campers. He looks like he's about to cry.

He signs the kids shirts, having a happy conversation with the kids once last time. He wants to see the kids happy on their last day, not sad.

Toby waves the kids away tearfully, the Male wondering what next week's kids will be like in the process.

[shirtlesssammy]

8x01: We Need to Talk About Kevin

Then:

P U R G A T O R Y

Now:

100-Mile Wilderness, Maine

1 Year Later

A couple is sleeping peacefully in the forest when a bright light fills the sky, waking the woman.

The couple goes out to investigate when they hear rustling outside. It’s a deer! Close...it’s Dean! He’s looking more like a feral rat than a deer. I would not want to run into someone looking like Dean in the middle of nowhere, that’s for sure. He pulls his gun, asks where the road is, grabs a bag of their stuff, and skedaddles. Yikes. First, for anyone not caught up, let’s all collectively scream what we all thought on our first viewing: Where’s Cas??! Second, who the fuck hikes anywhere, let alone the 100 Mile Wilderness trail with that kind of gear?! Camp chairs? A lantern the size of a dining room chandelier? A tent that’s making Harry Potter quake? Anyway, I lol thinking this is the most unbelievable part of this scene, and not the dude who just got back from Purgatory. 

Clayton, Louisiana

4 Days Later

Cue up Styx “Man in the Wilderness”, and sit back and watch one of my favorite montages. Watching Dean walk down a road never gets old. He walks to a cemetery and digs up a grave. He chants an incantation over some bones, and voilà, he brings back to life a vampire! They embrace.

Wait, what? 

In Kermit, Texas, Sam’s ditching on a woman AND a dog. He drives to Rufus’s cabin in Montana, where a hiding Dean assaults him with all the monster tests. They both pass, and hug. Sam is shocked. “I guess standing too close to exploding dick, sends your ass straight to Purgatory.” Dean explains the situation with the first dick joke of the season. Sam has further questions, and Dean is vague on the details. Sam also wonders about Cas. Dean shuts down a little more and admits, “Yeah, Cas didn’t make it.” 

Sam presses the matter. “Something happened to him down there. Things got pretty hairy towards the end, and he... just let go,” Dean adds. So, he admits that Cas let go here, did he alter his memory after this? In any event, Dean’s really broken about it. 

Sam then admits that he got out of the life, tossed all his phones, etc. “Something happened to me this year, too.” Gah, like a complete breakdown and fugue state, but I will reserve my thoughts for my non-existent essay on the state of Sam’s mind when Dean and Cas were in Purgatory. That sends Dean into an anger spiral. (Natasha: LIMES)

He listens to all of Sam’s phone messages --the increasingly desperate and eventually disillusioned pleas for help from Kevin. 

He was their responsibility, and Sam just ditched him. Uh, because he was in complete mental failure! Sam hears something in the background of the last message and is able to isolate the sound to a bus station. They track him to Michigan, where his girlfriend, Channing, is attending college. 

Once at the motel, Dean sees two boys playing with their toy guns, which sends him into a memory spiral. He’s chasing a vamp in Purgatory and eventually catches him. “Where’s the angel?”

WhEreS tHe aNgEl?

W H E R E ‘ S  T H E  A N G E L?

??

?

(Don’t touch me.)

“You’re him. The human.” 

Like, excuse me? The monsters are all meeting up talking about the human wandering around Purgatory looking for that angel? LIKE PLEASE. No, please STOp. I can’t take it, even after all these years. 

Anyway, Dean keeps demanding to know where that goddamned angel is. The vamp refuses to say so Mr. Dramatic lops his head off set to a very elegant camera angle. 

Another monster attacks but Dean’s too far from his machete. Then ANOTHER monster attacks THAT monster. Spoiler: IT’S BENNY! 

Later, in the motel, Dean suggests moving on, but Sam thinks he should get some rest. Dean goes into another anger spiral --probably because he couldn’t sleep for a year and all Sam did was sleep due to his complete breakdown. Sam trying to ignore that he didn’t have control of his world isn’t helping him with Dean. Sam found “a girl.” Well, actually, she was a fully grown woman, but go on… Listen, I don't like the Amelia stuff as much as the next person, so I have a very elaborate headcanon of Sam’s mental break and the symbolic fantasy world he created while he barely existed at the cabin. 

Anyway, Sam asks Dean what Purgatory was like. “It was bloody. Messy. 31 flavors of bottom-dwelling nasties. Hell, most days felt like 360-degree combat. But there was something about being there.”

“It felt pure.”

It fElT PuRe

I T  F E L T  P U R E

Flashback to Purgatory, where Dean’s life is still saved by Benny, the vampire. Dean threatens to shiv him up the ass so...every friendship needs to start somewhere? The vampire knows an escape hatch out of Purgatory! But it’s only for humans. He’ll show him the portal as long as Dean smuggles his soul out of Purgatory. 

The first rule of Purgatory is you can’t trust anyone. Dean doesn’t trust Benny - not an inch. But he does need allies. He tells Benny that he’ll agree to that tenuous deal as long as they find “the angel” first.

At a college, the Winchesters interview Channing. She hasn’t heard a word from Kevin and furthermore, would spurn his love forever now that he’s no longer going to Princeton. Ouch! After they leave, Channing’s eyes go black and she slices her roommate's throat so she can make a phone call. DOUBLE OUCH! She reports that Kevin still hasn’t gotten in touch with her, but Dean Winchester is back.

Trying to get some work done amongst the students, Sam experiences his own mournful flashback. He hit a dog! He shouted at veterinary hospital employees! Damn it, this is an animal hospital!!! I hand you a bloody dog, you fix! Shouting helps things happen! 

Sam bby.

Dean arrives with a burger in hand, reunited with one of the loves of his life at least. Sam reports that he’s tracked Kevin to Iowa.

At a run down church in Iowa, the Winchesters pay a house call. Kevin immediately confronts them with a Borax-loaded supersoaker. Once he figures out they’re human, Kevin gives them the tour of his new digs. He’s learned how to ward against demons. And then while explaining his recent past, Kevin has his own flashback! Everyone gets one! 

In Kevin’s flashback, he’s been captured by Crowley who sits him down to work on another tablet. A DEMON tablet! Dun dun DUN! Kevin mines its secrets and tells Crowley that there’s a hell gate in Wisconsin. (Made out of cheese?) Demons gather ingredients for him and Kevin gets to have a MONTAGE of preparing a spell to open the gate. Only…

...Kevin was hoodwinking the demons the whole time. 

He’d found a demon bomb recipe and blasts away his guards while Crowley waits on a distant Wisconsin farm. 

Back in the present, Kevin’s stowed the tablet somewhere safe but before he did that, he made sure to memorize one more important spell from the tablet: a spell to close the gates of Hell...FOREVER. 

Dean and Sam head outside to the...second story church deck?...to chat. Sam’s disappointed that Kevin seems further into the hunting life than before. Dean’s proud of the kid - “he’s in it whether he likes it or not.” Oof. Dean, your Winchester is showing.

Sam heads down to the candle-lit church. He apologizes to Kevin for bugging out on him - and on everything hunting related. It’s definitely staged like a confession.

Kevin admits that he’s perturbed when he really stops and thinks about his life, post-prophet-revelation. Sam assures him that “it gets better.” Hmm RLY? Sam’s an optimist, and continues: if they can banish all the demons, Kevin might actually be free to live a good life. BRB weeping and shouting angrily at this show!

In Sam’s hazy flashback, he waits anxiously for the news from the vet. She reports that his dog will be okay. Sam corrects her - the dog isn’t his! She double barrel blasts him with sarcasm, implying that if he doesn’t take care of the dog he hit then he’s the worst person in the world. Which. Okay. I generally don’t mind Amelia though I think she demonstrably has terrible luck picking stable, healthy relationships. But this scene always has me rolling my eyes. It’s so normal to foist a dog on a stranger! Everyone has the means and time to care for a dog, not to mention a dog who has been seriously injured! A vet would not do this! Amelia, plz. 

Amelia puppy dog eyes Sam, and he’s toast. He’s spent so many years working on his offensive puppy eyed tactics, he never thought to work on his defense!

The church begins to shake and wood splits apart Kevin’s devil’s traps. A couple of demons arrive, armed with more swagger than weaponry. There’s a zappy flashy kicky fight and then Crowley and Channing arrive. Crowley demands the tablet for Channing’s life. He flashes Channing back into control for a moment as proof of life. Kevin offers himself up in exchange for Channing’s freedom and heads off to “pack up.” Then Kevin lures Crowley and Channing to a holy water trap.

As they’re being doused, the Winchesters and Kevin escape. While they drive away, Crowley orders the demon out of Channing and then kills her. Oof. 

Later, Dean gets a phone call as they stop for gas and snacks, and then passes it off as a wrong number. Kevin passes on donuts and beef jerky. He just saw his girlfriend die and that doesn’t lend itself well to gas station snacks. 

Dean offers up words of Winchester Solace™. “You’re in it now. Whether you like it or not you do what you gotta do.” Good talk, Dean! 

On Dean’s pee break, he furtively places a phone call. It’s Benny, the vampire from earlier! He’s lurking on the edges of a funeral in a not-at-all-suspicious way. He figured out cell phones! But not fashion.

Dean tells him that they shouldn’t talk for a while since they’re both adjusting to life. Benny wistfully tells Dean that Purgatory WAS pure and he should have appreciated it more while he was there. They both admonish each other to be good (and presumably not go on a murderous rampage). Good talk!

WHERE’RE THE QUOTES?

We made it, brother

I don't know whether to give you a hug or take a shower

Nothing says "family" quite like the whole family being dead

Where’s the angel?

Hey, the rules are simple, Sam. You don't take a joint from a guy named Don, and there's no dogs in the car!

So you're looking for a soul train

There's a demon in you, and you're going to your safety school

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[superprincesspea]

Knock, Chapter 20

The last one

Simon/You, Smut, NSFW

Chapter 1    Chapter 2    Chapter 3    Chapter 4    Chapter 5  

Chapter 6    Chapter 7    Chapter 8    Chapter 9    Chapter 10

Chapter 11   Chapter 12   Chapter 13   Chapter 14   Chapter 15  

Chapter 16   Chapter 17   Chapter 18   Chapter 19

You don’t want to part ways with Rusty but his town isn’t the safety you’re looking for. Its prime real estate for looters and practically every house is filled with the dead, not to mention the ones wandering the streets. It would take the three of you months if not years to set something up and even then all it would take is another Negan to come along and destroy it all in a matter of hours.

“Are you sure you won’t come?” Simon asks for what must be the hundredth time.

“When I’m ready,” Rusty replies, holding his arms out to you and embracing you in a tight goodbye squeeze.

“You take care of that little one and I’ll see you when I see you.”

He reaches for Simon’s hand, shaking it firmly but Simon pulls him into an embrace. “Soon,” he practically orders and Rusty smiles sadly before turning to head back into the house.

“I hate this,” you say, stuffing the car with the last of your belongings. It's only been a few weeks but a few weeks can feel like a lifetime of knowing someone.

“I do too but we haven’t got a choice,” Simon opens the car door and you get in with a sigh. 

Rusty wanted time alone in the place that had been his home for so many years and you could appreciate that even if you feared what might happen to him. 

When Simon puts the car key in the ignition you both look at each other, silently waiting to see if one of you has changed your mind about leaving.  But Rusty isn’t your responsibility, Sylvie is.

“This sucks ass but we need to think about our family,” Simon decides, pulling from the drive and you rest your hand on his thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“I just hope we can find this cabin,” you say, smiling.

“I can’t believe you’re doubting me now,” he replies cheerfully and you’re both forcing it but smiling makes you feel a little better. Besides, the sun is shining and being on the road again feels rejuvenating. 

You want to be somewhere you can put down some roots and start making your own home. Rusty has told you about just the place. A little middle of nowhere hunting cabin which has been in his family for generations. Given the situation with the roads you don’t know how long it’s going to take to get there but in the end it only takes two days.

What comes next is the hike and you’d be lying if you said you were looking forward to it. But you want to make the best of things and at first it’s nice. You watch Simon’s ass as he leads the way and can’t help but remember the unbearably hot day when you’d followed Simon through the woods before diving into a pool of water and… well… making Sylvie. 

The only difference is the baby carrier he has snuggled against his chest and every time he turns to check you’re still with him or to stop and look at the map your breath catches at the sight of him and that tiny precious bundle of pink. 

What is it about a six foot hulk of man holding a baby that turns you to mush? With a dreamy sigh the answer is… everything.

But now, hours later, you’re the one holding the baby and she’s feeling like a lead weight as you trudge along. Suddenly nothing seems dreamy or cute.

“Give me the map!” you snap, huffing with exhaustion. You’d set out at dawn hoping to make it to safety before nightfall but you should have been there by now and everything is aching. 

“How about I carry her for a while,” Simon soothes, stuffing the map into your hand as he takes Sylvie from the carrier. 

“I think we took a wrong turning back at that rock, we need to head more this way,” you say, gesturing but Simon isn’t even paying attention to you. He’s holding Sylvie which means his brain has turned to mush while she basks in his affection like a cub in the sunshine.

“Simon!” you say, losing what's left of your patience.

“I don’t think we did take a wrong turn, mama bear,” he replies, talking in his sing-song baby voice, his eyes never leaving Sylvie as he tries to make her smile even if all her smiles are pretty much wind or pure luck. 

“You’re not even looking at the map!” you say tartly.

Simon looks at you, raising one eyebrow, “don’t need to.”

“Oh really? How stupid of me to forget you’re a man and you don’t need to look at a map. You’re just gonna use your penis as a compass to-”

Meanwhile Simon’s hand is on your shoulder, guiding you until you’re seeing what he’s seeing. A cabin, no more 30 feet away and instantly you feel three things. Stupid, relieved and just a tiny bit sorry. 

Your cheeks heat but you don’t let him know that. “I guess we’ve found it then,” you say, shoulders straightening as you march forward. If it hadn’t been for Simon you would have walked right past the cabin but you’re not going to admit that either. 

The original part is built from stone but there’s an extension made from wood and a deep porch just like Rusty had described. It’s prettier than you’d thought when he’d first mentioned a hunting cabin. You’d imagined bear traps and pelts but thankfully all of that was contained to a little outbuilding around the back. 

According to Rusty his wife had forced him to spruce up the place if he ever expected her to spend any time there with him and even though she never came to the cabin more than a handful of times in 40 years of marriage he’d been the dutiful husband. 

You smile, thinking Simon would do exactly the same thing for you and suddenly you’re feeling a little bit guilty about losing your cool, “I’m sorry about before. I was just-”

“It's forgotten,” he says softly, placing Sylvie in your arms. “You wait here while I give this place a quick once over.”

It doesn’t take more than a minute before he’s ushering you inside. Afterall, there are only two rooms and one walk-in pantry slash boot room. The original stone part of the cabin is the living room and kitchen while the newer part contains one long bedroom with a king size bed squeezed into one end and a set of bunk beds on the other. 

“It’s practically a goddamn mansion,” Simon jokes when you’ve completed the grand tour, his arms spreading out wide enough to dwarf the sitting area. 

“We’ll take it!” you say, brushing a fingerful of dust off the fireplace. It might not be the 3 bed, 2.5 bath place you’d had in another life but it was cosy and a perfect hideaway from the rest of the world. Still, you’re under no illusions about the amount of work it’s gonna take to make a life here but you’re ready for it and so is Simon. 

You spend the rest of the day exploring the area around your new home and checking to see what supplies are in the cabin before settling Sylvie down for the night in the comfort of an empty dresser drawer. Eventually Simon will make the trek back down to where you left your car and pick up the travel cot you’d brought with you but for now it would do. 

When she’s sleeping you find Simon standing by the porch, admiring the stars and no doubt enjoying the peacefulness of having found somewhere to settle. It feels good, it feels right and as he turns to you with an armful of split timber and a smile, you say, “let’s get married.”

“Now?” Simon laughs, probably thinking you’re not being serious.

“Now,” you agree, stepping closer to him and encouraging his armful of timber to the floor. “I mean, I know we’re not gonna have a wedding or anything and honestly the idea of standing here exchanging vows is kinda corny and enough to make me gag-”

Simon’s snort of laughter interrupts you and you smack your hand against his chest. “You know, this isn’t easy for me.”

He wraps his arms around you, “I know, I just can’t believe you’re asking me to marry you and being so damn romantic about it too.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to be mad at him, trying to shake yourself  free from his embrace, “you know what? I’ve changed my mind.”

He only holds you closer, “well I haven’t and I think what you’re trying to say is that nothing else matters. Just me, you and Sylvie. That you love me and I love you and vows are nothing but words compared to that. But even so, I will love, honor and obey the hell out of you until the day I die. There’s no question about it. I want you to be my wife.”

He’s right. Your only witnesses are the stars in the sky and the way Simon’s eyes melt into yours. They’re all you need. White dresses, champagne, a hundred guests, none of them make a marriage and none of them really matter when you’re standing with a man who you know will not only kill for you, but die for you too. 

Opening your heart never came easy before the world ended so you can’t expect it to now. And maybe saying vows is the cheesiest thing you’ve ever done but Simon’s worth it. You take a breath, sinking into the way he’s holding you. “I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love again. I wanted to hate you rather than admit the truth because I thought that would be easier. It wasn’t. There’s nothing easier than loving you Simon. And if we have to make a vow then I want us to promise that no matter what happens we won’t ever give up.”

“I promise,” Simon replies, his voice a husky whisper before he presses his lips against yours, sealing your promises with a kiss.  

Your long journey hasn’t really afforded much time for intimacy and you want more than a single kiss to seal your fates together, you need to feel the weight of him on top of you and the length of him inside. Simon seems to need it too and together you tumble onto the porch seat, excited hands pulling off clothes before you finally give into comfort and grab a quilt from inside the house. 

You spread it across the porch while Simon kicks off his boots and slowly unbuckles his belt. Making love under the canopy of stars feels like the perfect way to consummate your marriage and when he enters you for the first time in a long time you flinch, expecting pain but instead feeling nothing but pleasure. 

“I love you,” you whisper, stroking your fingers along his spine and urging your hips to meet his every thrust.

The end result doesn’t seem to matter as much as the closeness you feel, wrapped in his arms, his body covering yours. Outside of your cabin the whole world is ticking by but on your porch it's like time has stood still to let you enjoy this moment together. 

When you climax, it washes over you in one long toe curling wave of bliss and Simon’s finish isn’t too far behind, his release spilling onto your inner thigh. 

“I didn’t think you’d want any more little surprises,” he says, after a while and you couldn’t agree more. You were happy with just the three of you and if any surprises happened to come along then you’d adjust but any extra family members would be just that, surprises, unexpected knocks of fate.

“I have a confession to make…” he says after you’ve been lying curled up together for a while.

You roll onto your side, watching him, waiting.

“You know that day, when…” he inclines his head to the side, “you know…”

“When what?”

“When I walked in to find you…”

Memories flood back, your cheeks filling pink even if you hadn’t felt particularly embarrassed at the time, “masturbating,” you say.

He clears his throat, you can tell he’s changing his mind about what he’s about to say next but he pushes it out anyway. “I didn’t have any reason to go into your room. There was no message from Negan. The truth is I stopped to tie my bootlace and I heard you. You sounded so goddamn sexy and I already wanted you, I’d fantasized about you so hard I thought my dick might fall off. I couldn’t help myself, I was standing in your room before I’d even thought things through properly.” 

You sit up, your mouth hanging open, “you great big pervert.”

“I know,” he shrugs, smiling sheepishly, “I’m not gonna lie, seeing you spread across your bed was better than my wildest fantasies but I’ve felt guilty about it ever since.”

You think about the time you’d walked into his room to find him wearing nothing but tented boxer shorts and a smile. When it comes to Simon you know exactly what it feels like to give into your baser instincts. Still a wicked grin peels across your lips, you’re not gonna let him live this down, “I’m married to an animal!”

“So you still wanna be married to me then?” he says, pulling you onto his lap and nuzzling his lips into your shoulder.

The truth is Simon walking in that day was the most erotic moments of your life and even if it was an unusual start you were glad it happened and you were glad to be here with Simon now. Still, it wouldn’t be right if you didn’t make him suffer just a little. 

“I’ll think about it,” you say, reaching for your shirt but he stops you, pulling you onto his lap.

“Maybe I can help you come to a decision,” he croons, the warmth of his hands splaying across your back as he nuzzles his lips into your neck. You love the way his mustache tickles your skin when he kisses you there and you can’t help but melt against him. 

But you’re not alone in this cabin and for the first time, and surely not the last time, sex is interrupted by the baby. Her little cry pierces the night air and you both laugh softly.

“I’ll get her,” he insists but you go with him anyway, pulling on one of Simon’s shirts before all three of you settle into the king size bed. 

It’s cosy and warm and you rest your head on the pillow, admiring the way Simon looks when he’s cradling Sylvie. Soon you’re sleeping soundly and that’s how you spend the first night in your new home. With Simon keeping watch over his girls, savouring the night so he can carry this moment with him for the rest of his life. It was strange to think if he hadn’t walked into your room that day then everything would have been different. 

The End

====

Thank you for reading! It feels so good to give this story the ending it deserves. I hope you enjoyed it xx

[mittensmorgul]

Rating: T Words: 7k Pairings: Destiel, a bit of Samwitch Tags: Fluff and Humor, a dash of crack, case fic, canon universe, witch curses gone awry.... or maybe not...

Summary: Something goes terribly wrong (or maybe painfully right) on a hunt. The witch they're after lobs a magical grenade made of purple sparkles and a miserably specific psychic gift at Sam as he runs out the door. With a nonstop connection directly into Dean and Cas's every thought, Sam is stuck in the middle of their ongoing idiocy regarding one another. Let's see how long it takes for him to crack...

or, that one where Sam is cursed with a direct psychic hotline into Dean and Cas’s thoughts.

Read it now on AO3, or look below the cut for a preview:

This idea came from this anon post: http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/183904917730/i-have-the-dumbest-crackfic-idea-sam-gets-hit which was then elaborated out in chat with @ceeceekayblog to the point we came up with about six different ways to approach this single prompt. I’m seriously considering writing another, which would be a very different story from this one...

In the meantime, please enjoy this proof that I haven’t been sitting on my hands since March and have actually written something!*

*something other than my dcbb, which is currently marinating in my completed drafts file, so at least there’s that, even if I can’t post it for a while :D

And now, the promised preview:

Dean had always said there was nothing worse than witches. As their latest hunt went south, no matter how far Rowena had come toward showing Sam the advantages of having a friendly witch on retainer, Sam was inclined to agree with him.

Cas and Dean had circled around the little cabin in the woods to cut off any chance for the witch they'd tracked there to escape, while Sam charged through the front door alone. That had apparently been the moment the witch had been waiting for. He’d lobbed a hex bag at Sam’s head, shouted out an incantation, and then bowled Sam down in a bid for freedom. Sam lay on the floor and rubbed purple glitter out of his eyes, choking on a cloud of acrid smoke.

“A little parting gift for you,” the witch shouted over his shoulder as he jumped on a motorcycle and sped off into the night.

And then the voices had started.

At first, Sam thought Dean and Cas were just speaking aloud as they ran to his side. It’s not like he could see them yet, still blinded by the flash bang of the spell, and for all he knew they were both standing in the room with him already. It was obvious they didn’t have a hope of catching up to the witch on the treacherous hiking trails on foot, so Dean and Cas had quickly run to Sam’s aid. Only the words he heard didn’t entirely make sense.

“Holy shit that witch is dead if he so much as singed Sammy’s eyebrows,” and “Dean will be very upset if Sam is injured and I can’t heal him immediately,” and “Why the fuck did I let Sam go through the front door alone, I knew we should’ve had a better plan,” and “Sam seems to be physically unharmed, at least Dean won’t spend the rest of the night blaming himself for this.”

Yeah, definitely not quite right.

“I’m okay, guys,” Sam said, getting unsteadily to his feet as Dean and Cas found their way to him through the freshly kicked-in back door. “He hit me with some sort of magical smoke bomb and then ran me over on his way out the door.”

He brushed sparkly dust from his shoulders, wobbled, and coughed again as he breathed even more of it in. Dean tried to rush to his side to help steady him, but Cas held him back. Remarkably, Dean let him.

“We don’t know what sort of spell the witch attempted to cast,” Cas told Dean. “Or if it’s still potentially active.”

That’s what Cas said out loud, but Sam could hear what Cas wasn’t saying. “I can’t let you get yourself cursed if I have the power to save you from it.”

Dean didn’t say anything at all, and yet… Sam heard him. “Shit, he probably just saved my ass again. He’s still got his hand around my wrist. If I fight him, he might hold on a little longer. Maybe squeeze a little harder.” And Sam watched Dean do just that.

“Dean, be reasonable,” Cas scolded him, holding his wrist tighter and turning slightly to block Dean’s forward progress with his own body, while glancing over at Sam. “Let’s figure out what happened before putting all of us in danger for nothing.” I can’t lose you again.

Well, this was interesting, Sam thought, watching this half-silent drama unfold. He nearly forgot that he’d been the subject of their concern until Dean finally turned his glare from Cas to him.

“You sure you’re good, Sam? Not about to melt down into a puddle of goo we’re gonna have to scoop into a bucket to carry you home?”

Sam watched the two of them curiously for a moment, listening to the ongoing rumble of bizarrely fascinating things they very obviously were not saying with their mouths before finally tearing his eyes away to look down at himself. The cloud of purple dust had all but disappeared, fading away with whatever spell the witch had hurled at him. The last of the sparkles twinkled out of existence as he watched, and a quick examination of his hands showed no sign of the magical residue.

Except Dean and Cas were still lowkey mumbling in his direction, even though neither of them said a single word out loud.

Sam cleared his throat, and the murmur died away. “Yeah, I think the danger’s past.”

Dean immediately tried to come closer for a more thorough examination, but Cas still held him back. For the first time in his life, Sam actually heard one of Dean and Cas’s silent conversations.

“He said he’s fine, Cas. You gotta let me make sure for myself.” Dean’s pleading eyes, locked on Cas, conveyed the sentiment perfectly, Sam thought.

“At least let me confirm it’s safe before you risk yourself,” Cas’s return glare seemed to imply. “I’m far less likely to be injured by a fading spell, and far more likely to be able to detect any lingering effect. Let me do this for you, Dean. It’s one of the few things I can still spare you from.”

Dean’s shoulders relaxed, and he gave a nearly imperceptible nod, assuring Cas enough to release his wrist and cautiously approach Sam. All of Sam’s attention was still on Dean, though.

“You better not get yourself hurt because of me, Cas.”

As Cas got closer, though, Sam turned his attention to the jumble of words that it was becoming clearer and clearer that Cas was only thinking, and not actually saying out loud. Only some of which he understood, while a good number of others sounded like Latin or Enochian. Sam held out a hand in front of him to stop Cas from getting any closer, and this time it was Dean who reached out a hand to stop Cas.

“Uh, um… I think I know what the witch did to me,” Sam said cautiously as Dean tugged Cas back to his side with a relieved gush of emotion that barely contained any sort of rational words at all. He decided to focus as much as he could on Cas, instead. “Is it possible to hex someone into being psychic?”

[keep reading on AO3]

[thechocoboos]

Hey can I have some cute Gladiolus Headcanons? Maybe even Headcanons of a Farmer au or mountain man au? :3

I swear this is the fastest that I’ve ever responded to one of these, but my god, Mountain Man AU has got me shooook

Thank you so, so much for this request, I love it so much

Gladio the Mountain Man™ AU

First things first: he lives in a cabin, of course

It’s a rough cabin with spiderwebs in the corners of the rooms, crappy wiring, a broken toilet, and no AC, but he loves every minute of it

Despite having a functioning home, this man still decides to camp in a tent half the time

There are days where he wakes up, decides a soft bed is too hard on his back, and grabs his camping equipment without a second thought

Sometimes, Noctis comes to visit and they spend the whole day fishing and drinking beer (neither one of them ever mention how much it means to both of them)

After a long day of hiking or chopping wood and other such “mountain man” activities, he likes to toss himself in the rickety chair on his weather-worn porch and drink a cold beer as the sun goes down

Sometimes Iris or their dad comes to visit and the they just spend a weekend hiking, camping, and catching up together (it’s some nice family bonding time, even if Iris gets a sunburn)

The bros also come up a lot, too

They always go camping (Gladio’s cabin is too small to hold four of them), and Ignis’ll make a damn fine meal

A stranger once knocked on his cabin door at 7 AM and Gladio answered it in his boxers (happened once when he wasn’t wearing anything at all, but luckily it was just Prompto)

Gladio lost his mullet while he lived in the mountains

It was too much of a hassle to keep maintained, so he grew it out into the beautiful ponytail (and sometimes manbun) that older Gladio sports

Also: Flannel.

Lots of flannel (mostly red)

His favorite outfit is a tight white tanktop with an unbuttoned red flannel thrown over it and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows (you’re welcome)

But if he’s just chillin’ on his porch or in his cabin with a book, you bet your ass he loses that tanktop in a heartbeat and just lounges around wearing an unbuttoned flannel shirt with his beautifully toned chest and abs on display for the wildlife to absolutely fawn over

Once came head to head with a bear and lived (the bear took one look at him and decided he was too beautiful to fight)

Just kidding.

He did go head to head with a bear and lived, but he came out with more than a few injuries and had to actually go to a hospital so… don’t fight bears, kids.

He definitely hunts animals, but only things like deer or pheasants . He respects nature too much to kill wolves and bears, unless it’s a life or death situation

He used to brag about his hunting to the other bros, but when he saw how much it bugged Prompto, he laid off quite a bit (after some light teasing, of course)

Whenever he comes across someone hiking or camping in the mountains, he likes to join them for a bit and talk (he loves hearing other people's’ stories)

He also likes to make sure folks know where his cabin is in case they need some help, he doesn’t want someone out there dying when he’s nearby

Every morning that he wakes up in his cabin, he walks out onto his porch with a big stretch and just puts his hands on his hips and takes in the beauty of nature (usually in his boxers, or nothing at all)

Speaking of no clothes, he likes to sleep commando in his cabin

And he skinny dips when he’s feeling particularly reckless

The first time he went camping with the other bros in those mountains, he dared Prompto to skinny dip and wouldn’t stop teasing him until he did (then Gladdy teased Prompto more, this time about seeing his pasty ass jumping into a lake)

Speaking of pasty

Gladio is anything but pasty

He tans like no tomorrow

Sure, at first he had some tanlines from his rolled up sleeves and his pants, but boi, you know that man spent some time tanning naked

He figured no one else would see, and even if they did, he’s got nothin’ to be ashamed of

So basically, after the first two months, Gladio was completely tan from head to toe with lovely sunkissed skin

ANyways

Gladio also likes to climb trees or large rock formations

He only ever fell once, but he’s elected to keep that to himself

Other times, he likes to go kayaking or swimming

And sometimes, he just sits on the bank of a river or on his porch reading a book

He does a lot of reading

There is a TV in his cabin, but he’s never used it (Gladio likes to use his Mountain Man status as an excuse to not use technology more than necessary)

Speaking of technology, Gladio’s phone only has signal in two locations: his cabin and the top of this one waterfall about two miles west of his cabin

It’s kinda hard to talk to people on the phone by the waterfall, so pretty much the only time Gladio contacts anyone else is when he’s at his cabin

But ‘cause he knows how dangerous nature can be, he always lets the bros and Iris know where he’s planning on going and for how long, so that if he doesn’t tell them he’s home safe after a certain amount of time, then they can get help

Yeah, Gladdy’s no stranger to the danger of living as a Mountain Man™

But he loves his lifestyle and he doubts that’ll change for a loooong while

[superfandomdqueensnook]

Do You Know Who I Am(Bucky Barnes x Winchester!Reader) Chapter 4

Fandom: Marvel, MCU, Supernatural(TV show)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Claire Novak, Reader/You, Steve Rogers, Krissy Chambers,

Relationships: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, M/F, Claire Novak & Female!Reader, 

Summary: A hunt? With Claire and Buckaroo, what possibly could go wrong?

Word Count: 1,36 oops

Warnings: Swearing, blunt people, mentions of violence

A/N: The fourth chapter. Finally, Y/N and Bucko get to discover more about him. They also get to spend family time with Claire and hunting monsters.

Masterlist 

Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3| 

It has three months since finding Buckaroo in Jody’s cabin. Guess what we’re doing now?

He’s become a hunter and on the side we find more about him, but right this instant we’re in a beautiful small town hunting some ghouls with Claire, and eating pie and burgers at their diner.

Y/N let out a moan, taking a bite out of a double bacon cheese burger.

“I think I’m in love.”

That got a laugh out of Claire and a chuckle from Barnes as well as a small smile. Y/N considered that an accomplishment.

“Who are we meeting up with again?” Claire asked, between bites of her burger.

“It is Krissy’s case we’re just giving her a hand. Apparently, there’s like three or four of them,” Y/N answered, keeping the vague as possible while giving a decent answer.

The door jingled swinging open to show Krissy Chambers in all of her glory.

“Hey Krissy,” Y/N mumbled a greeting through her food, raising her hand for a fist bump.

“One, disgusting, two, we’re still dorks,” came Krissy greeting.

“I know, I’ve never bothered trying to be anything else.”

SPNMCUSPNMCU

 Shit, finished the freaking hunt and guess what happened next?! Ugh, why can’t I just have burgers and pie and be happy. Nooo, HYDRA had to show up be assholes and now I’m in their stupid freaking base. The bastards are scared of me, they should be.

Y/N ground her teeth together. Hopefully Krissy, Claire, and Bucky got away.

SPNMCUSPNMCU

 Bucky opened the door to the motel room Y/N and he had been staying in. Claire and Krissy stayed in the next room.

“Y/N?” Bucky called out, something felt off. Bucky gave the burgers and coffee to Krissy who was just behind him, and turned the safety off of his STARK gun. “You here?”

Bucky swung the door open, checking behind the door, in the bathroom, and every other place someone could possibly hide.

“She’s gone.”

Bucky was a ghastly pale compared to his usual fair skin.

“Shit,” Claire and Krissy spoke unison.

SPNMCUSPNMCU

 “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Claire asked for what seemed to be the thousandth time.

“Y/N was taken by HYDRA, I know it. So we’re going to need back up, HYDRA isn’t to be underestimated,” Bucky asked for the millionth time, as they drove down the road to the New Avengers facility, in Up-State New York. Bucky’s plan was to ask Steve Rogers for help.

“If you’re sure,” Claire mumbled, slumping in the passenger’s seat.

“I’m sure.”

“I just don’t think the Avengers will understand what hunters are and what we do, especially ‘Captain Everyone Can Have A Second Chance’. Monsters don’t often work that way,” Krissy spoke from the back seat.

Bucky glared at her in the rearview mirror. Krissy shrugged, unaffected by his glare.

“I was just pointing it out. Y/N can handle herself usually, we’ll probably just be picking her up.”

Bucky didn’t answer, but he agreed he has seen what Y/N can do. The song she introduced him to, ‘One Woman Army’ came to mind when thinking of her. Being that she is a one woman army, like Natalia and Peggy.

SPNMCUSPNMCU

 Bucky pause hand half way to the door about to knock, he hasn’t seen Steve since he pulled him out of the water.

“Oh come on, knock old man.” Claire rolled her eyes, rapping on the door.

The door opened, Steve was there.

“Bucky?” His shock was evident.

He pulled Bucky into a hug. Bucky tensed.

“Ugh, don’t you know. ‘No chick flick moments’, Y/N’s rules,” Claire and Krissy chimed harmoniously.

Bucky’s lips twitched, Steve pulled back now aware of the two girls.

“Who are you?”

“That’s Karen, and I’m Cathy,” Claire introduced themselves.

“Why are you with Bucky?”

“That’s why we’re here, dumbass, we need your help with finding Bucky’s and our mutual friend,” Krissy told him off. “Are you going to let us in or what?”

SPNMCUSPNMCU

 Steve was shocked to say the least to see Bucky standing on the steps of Compound, even more so when he noticed the girls. One looked about 18 or 19 and wearing a black leather coat, dark blue jeans, hiking boots, and a black and red, Gryffindor shirt. The other had dark hair, about 17, gray jean jacket, a Marauders Map shirt, washout blue jeans, and black combat boots. Karen and Cathy, the older girl with blonde hair had said.

“So, let me get this straight. Your mutual friend got captured by Hydra and you want your help to get her back,” Scott stated, looking incredulous at this statement.

“Yeah, basically.”

“Just a side note, she’s not a damsel in distress, she only ever needs a little help when shit hits the fan.”

Both Karen and Cathy were admandent that their friend was just going to need a ride. The two girls seemed to look up to this friend of theirs. Despite Claire and Krissy getting off to a bad start, their friendship grew quickly with shared experiences and opinions.

“What do you think, Bucky?” Steve asked.

“We’re getting nowhere sitting around here flapping our jaws, Barnes.”

Bucky silently agreed with the girls.

“I think we should just get frigging going.”

SPNMCUSPNMCU

 Y/N sat silently, observing the guards stationed in her room. The door slammed open.

“Now, we don’t want our guest to be uncomfortable. Do we?” the man said. Creepy ass bastard, what’s his name, was it Pierce or was it that slimy hairball, Ross. Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross, the little bugger who had to do with the whole shit storm with what happened in Harlem in ’08 with the Hulk. A HYDRA agent, who would’ve guessed, they should’ve.

“Ah, you care about my comfort? Really? I don’t believe that for a second. What is it that you want, jackass?”

The slimy bastard smirked, “I thought you would like some privacy, but it seems you don’t care.”  

Y/N wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk right off of him, but she needed to wait for her moment.

SPNMCUSPNMCU

 Getting was easier than it should’ve been. It put Bucky on edge. The team was made up of Bucky, Steve, Natasha, Scott, and Sam. Claire and Krissy went home with the promise of getting a call when Bucky and Y/N got back and that they wouldn’t make Sam and Dean aware of this.

Walking down the hall, Bucky heard someone speaking. Gesturing the others to come closer they listened in.

At first there was humming, “You never told me why you are so scared of me, ya’know. Why is it? I’m assuming it is because of my rep.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Do you know you are terrible at lying? Just by saying lets me know that, one, you do know who I am, two, what I’m capable of before I kicked your guys’ asses, and three, you’re terrified of me. A little bit of advice, never try to con a professional conman.”

“This should be where the security system is at.”

Steve kicked the door open to see a woman covered in blood and tapping away on a computer and a HYDRA agent hogtied on the floor, whimpering and trying to scoot away from her. They were surrounded by dead bodies.

The woman turned shoving something into her pocket.

She tsked,”Bucky you’re late. There’s no heads left to bash.” Gesturing to the agent,  “Unless you count that weasel.”

Looking down at her blood covered clothes, her lips thinned, “Can we get out of here? I’m in bad mood. They ruined my shirt, it was one of my favorites.”

“She’s insane!” The agent yelled, “Completely utterly insane. A psychopath!”

“Nice to know I’m insane, I knew there was something,” she said dryly,” Though I did know that I was a bit pyscho, but if you been through half the shit I have been through you would a little insane too, bub.”

Taglist: @hymnofthevalkyrie @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @iwillbeinmynest @colie87

[shadow-light19]

The Wolf of Lilac Lake: The Discovery Part 2

Summary: The trio consults Nerris on proving if David might actually be a werewolf.

Previous Chapter: https://shadow-light19.tumblr.com/post/173904829782/the-wolf-of-lilac-lake-the-discovery-part-1

Next Chapter: https://shadow-light19.tumblr.com/post/173939849117/the-wolf-of-lilac-lake-the-dog-whistle

“I’m not shitting you! You didn’t notice the cut?” Max whisper-yelled at Neil and Nikki.

The trio was huddled together in the boys’ tent after curfew.

“What Max, do you think he’s a werewolf or something? Supernatural creatures don’t exist. I’m surprised you of all people would believe that.” Neil scoffed.

Max gritted his teeth.

“That’s the thing, I don’t. Monsters and shit don’t exist but I can’t figure out why David and Rusty would have the same fucking cut in the same fucking place.”

“Well, maybe werewolves are real? I mean, Harrison can do magic.” Nikki pitched in.

Neil glared at her.

“Magic isn’t real and you know it. It’s a trick.”

She shrugged. “I’m just saying, we’ve dealt with weirder stuff already. I think it would be awesome if David was a werewolf. He could give us rides through the forest or just be a fluffy friend. Do you think he’s actually scary if he gets mad as a wolf? Or if he has sharp teeth and growls when he gets really angry?”

Max smacked his face with his hand.

“You know what? Sure, why not. Let’s say he is a fucking werewolf okay? How do you find out for sure?”

Nikki grinned and made her way out of the tent. Neil and Max looked at each other in confusion before turning back to the opening when they heard struggling.

“Oww! Nikki, let go of my cape! You’re going to make me lose HP if you keep pulling on it like that.”

Nerris was thrust into the tent and Nikki followed.

“You’re kidding…” Neil huffed.

“Now what’s this I hear about a werewolf? I can make you a charm that can repel werewolves.”

Max walked up to Nerris and put an arm on her shoulder.

“Listen Nerris, this is going to sound weird, but Nikki thinks David might be a werewolf.”

Nerris let out a squeal. “That would be amazing! We’d have a supernatural creature in our party! That would give us such a huge advantage over other night creatures like ghosts and witches!”

Nikki shoved Max out of the way.

“We met a wolf yesterday that we named Rusty and he is bigger than Max! It had a cut on its neck that is a copy of one on David’s neck!  We want to know how to tell if David is a werewolf?”

Nerris huddled the others close.

“There are several ways to see if someone is a werewolf or not. The three easiest ways are to touch the person with wolfsbane, touch them with silver, or to see them transform.”

Nikki frowned. “But David washes the silverware and sets up meals all the time. He’s never been affected by it before”

Max rolled his eyes. “Nikki, it’s cheap-ass silverware that Campbell bought. The asshole probably bought stainless steel shit. That wouldn’t affect David in the slightest.”

Neil dug a book out from his desk. “I have this book that David gave me about local plants and their properties. It’s part of Science Camp.”

He flipped to the Table of Contents and then to a different page.

“It says here that wolfsbane is a tall flowering plant that is best recognized for its sagging bell-like flowers. The flowers grow in clusters on tall stems and can be in many colors including yellow, purple, and blue. It is toxic to humans and should not come into contact with bare skin.”

Max grabbed his hair.

“Goddamit! Now we’re going to have to fucking walk through the forest to find this stupid fucking plant because I know there isn’t any silver in the area and no way are we going to just catch David transforming if werewolves aren’t fucking real!

Nerris laughed. “I have some wolfsbane.”

Everyone just stared.

“I picked some up the last time we went hiking and have been growing a small bunch on the edge of the camp. I cast a growing charm on them and they are already flowered. I’ll let you have some if you let me see if they work.”

Max shrugged.

“Sure, Nerris. We’ll try it out once you get the flowers. It won’t be hard to break into David’s cabin and since he should already be asleep, it’s just a matter of placing the plant on him and seeing how he reacts.”

Nerris grins and runs off to grab the flowers. Neil, Nikki, and Max walk out of the tent and head over to David’s cabin. Max peers over the window sill to see David still asleep in bed.

“Okay, when Nerris gets back with the plant, I’ll pick the lock, and Nikki will quickly touch him with the plant.”

Neil raises his hand. “Do we even know what the plant does? How do we know if it’s affecting him?”

Nerris pops out from the side of the cabin. “If he is a werewolf, it’ll probably burn him if it touches him.”

Max turns to Nerris. “Wait, so it’s going to fucking burn him?”

Nerris nods. “In general, wolfsbane is a dangerous plant. It’s poisonous to humans so you have to wear gloves like I am. It can kill if ingested and if touched, can cause mild to severe poisoning. I figure if we barely touch him he should be fine. We’ll need to wake him up though so he can wash it off, it shouldn’t do more than maybe make him slightly nauseous or dizzy. If he’s a werewolf though, it will leave a light burn mark on his skin as well.”

Nikki and Neil looked uncomfortable.

“I don’t know about this Max. I was okay with it before but now? I don’t think I want to accidentally poison if I get too much on him. And if it burns, he might get really hurt.”

Neil nodded.

“I agree with Nikki. Maybe we should just call it off and leave him alone?”

Nerris holds out a single petal with her gloved hands.

“I only brought a petal. This won’t be enough to poison him unless he ingests it somehow. I can touch him with it though since I know how to handle it.”

Max frowned but tried to play off his worry.

“Alright fine.  I don’t care if the dumbass gets hurt from this and hey, if he gets sick, maybe I’ll be able to use it as a distraction to get away from this shitty camp.”

Max walked up to the door and picked the lock. He held it open for Nikki, Neil, and Nerris to walk through. Nerris walked up to David with the petal. He was asleep with one arm out from the blanket, hugging a piece of wood. She looked at Max and waited for him to signal he was ready. Just as she started to bring to petal up to David’s arm, his face scrunched up. Nerris quickly backed away. David let out a sneeze and woke up in fright.

“Wolfsbane!” He shouted and backed into the corner between his headboard and his window.

The others just stared at him.

“I’d say that proves it,” Nerris stated.

She carried the petal back to the garden and left the trio standing there. David relaxed when she left the cabin and turned his confused gaze to the remaining campers.

“What are you guys doing with wolfsbane and what does she mean by ‘that proves it?’”

Max broke out of his shock.

“She means, that we proved you’re a fucking werewolf.”

David bit the corner of his lip in fear and nervously laughed.

“What are you talking about? Werewolves don’t exist.”

Max pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t fucking deny it. I noticed that you had the same cut as Rusty and there’s no way you could’ve known that we had wolfsbane with us while you were asleep unless you could smell it with some fucking werewolf enhanced nose.”

David stuttered and put his hands out in a ‘hold on’ motion.

“Yeah, can you transform back into Rusty? I want to pet a dog right now and you make a very fluffy wolf.”

David rubbed his face with his hands and sighed.

“You know what? Fine! You’re right. I am a werewolf.”

Nerris walked back in and threw her gloves in the trash. David sneezed.

“Nerris make sure you wash your hands really well, alright? I really need to have Quartermaster get rid of your patch of wolfsbane. One of the campers could fall into it.”

Nerris washed her hands and came back.

“Could you transform? I want to see what your wolf form looks like.”

“Yeah, Rusty. I wanna see this.” Max chimed in.

He made no attempt to hide the excitement from his expression. David saw the rare smile on Max’s face and sighed in resignation.

“Okay, but please don’t tell you anyone else okay? I don’t want to get hunted down.”

They nodded. David closed his eyes and the kids watched in awe as red fur started to appear all over his body. In seconds, there was a large red wolf sitting on the bed. Nikki grinned and jumped onto the bed. David laid down, tail wagging, as Nikki started scratching his ears.

“Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good werewolfie?!”

Max walked up to David and scratched his chin.

“I have to say, David, this is probably the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. You’re not so lame after all.”

David barked and licked his face. Max glared at David but backed up when he jumped off the bed.

“What’s up, David?” Nerris asked.

“No Nerris! Wolf David’s name is Rusty! You gotta call him Rusty!” Nikki whined.

Rusty gave then a stern look and gestured with his head outside. The kids groaned and didn’t leave until Rusty pushed them towards their tents.

“Alright, fine. We’ll go to bed.”

Max turned and walked out of the cabin. He couldn’t wait to see if he could use this to mess with David even more.

[dsmadmin]

#EnemyOfThineEnemy

Written by @MyStoneIsRuby & @SWinchesterDSM

Ruby: [Everybody thought she was dead so she was trying to stay under the radar, there was angel radio and there was demon radio, she didn’t want her name to be spoken on either of them anytime soon. But there was one thing she had to do… something she had to get out of her system, one demon she had to stab repeatedly making sure she’d never show her face in any form or vessel ever again. The bitch had sold her at the first occasion. There was no such thing as friendship in the “demon community” but that had been a low blow.

Meg, the bitch, had to die.

She had a place and time and just one shot at it for if she missed, so long for staying under the radars. Little she knew she wasn’t the only one tailing her, would she had known who was in the surrounding she would have backed off, but it was to late now]

::::::::::::::::::::::

Sam: -Sam was rolling solo these days and Dean was still pissed off at him but it was what it was. So he sat at the local diner having ordered breakfast and coffee before the sun come up. His table held his laptop which he was busy looking through articles. A guy named Anton LaVey had created The Church of Satan back in the sixties, most dismiss it as mostly inactive and completely ridiculous, but there were always a few fanatical followers. And Sam was tracking them because he felt they'd stumbled onto something real. Rumors of the Church were growing in the mountains not far from Little Rock Arkansas. Children had gone missing recently and Sam believed it was all connected, it might be legit or not that's what he was here to find out. He would be heading up to Pinnacle Moutain today, a lot of terrain but he wanted to get a feel for things and see if anything at some key points stood out. After breakfast, he put his stuff in the car and stopped by the supply store then headed up to the rangers station. He had been hunting Meg but so far he didn't have any solid leads so when this case came along he took it, one day he'd find her and end her. Parking the car he grabbed his hiking gear pack and headed up the walkway to grab a map and talk to the local ranger.-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ruby: [There were many things human had done in the past that shown how foolish they were. The Church of Satan was one, though supposed to be inactive it still had a few followers.. many even for it had become an international thing. A small herd of worshippers in every countries, what a great opportunity for demons… a stash of willing vessels. Whenever one got broken, to the worshipers the demon went that’s why Ruby followed that lead. She knew Meg had been badly injured when fighting the Winchesters, she’d more than probably need a new body to inhabit… And if she didn’t well she’d keep searching but for now, to Arkansas she’d go]

:::::::::::::::::::::

Sam: -After chatting to the ranger Sam took the map and headed up the trail to make his way up to Pinnacle Mountain, the ranger had warned him about animals etc since they’d had a couple guys go missing lately. He’d planned on camping overnight at the top and had his gun. Eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ruby: [Ruby was on her way to the top knowing there was a hunting cabin there where the worshippers gathered and the demons harvested.

Using the night to cover herself she walked on a trail not that many people used, she was worried though for the moon would be full soon and maybe some were already up there preparing for one of their stupid rituals.]

:::::::::::::::::::

Sam: -Sam had to admit this was kicking his ass a bit. He needed to work out harder. Taking a small break he decided to make camp because it was dark and he didn’t want to end up stumbling around or drawing attention to himself.-

:::::::::::::::

Ruby: [Demons didn’t get tired or it took a lot to put them down so she kept walking along the trail keeping her ears open and a hand on the dagger she kept safely secured at her belt. So far she hadn’t seen anything and she wondered if it was a good or a bad thing]

::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sam: -He didn’t start a fire and luckily it wasn’t to cold. He did apply some protection symbols to the ground though. Hopefully that would keep any inhuman thing out.-

:::::::::::::::::::::

Ruby: [She was half way to the top when she heard something. Someone was there, not far. She hesitated she could make a bee line and avoid whoever was there or come closer to see if it was a worshipper or a demon. Good or bad idea she decided to go and check who the “person” was, from behind one tree to the other she moved closer and closer and suddenly stopped. Of all people she could have stumbled on it had to be Sam Winchester who had to be standing a few feet away…]

::::::::::::::::::::

Sam: -Sam heard something, a twig? He turned around and caught sight of a small figure not to far away. He reached for his gun leveling it at the figure.- Come out, hands up. I will shoot so move slow.

::::::::::::::::::::::

Ruby: [She thought fast, you were a hunter, shoot first talk later, so she didn’t have a lot of options. She did as you asked raising her hands high enough for you to see them and stepped out of the shadows. Even from where you were you’d be able to tell it was her. It was up to you to shoot or not.]

::::::::::::::::::::::

Sam: -As the figure came out Sam’s eyes widened a bit. Head tilted gripping the gun hand tighter. Emotions came running back to him.- Ruby..? How? I thought you were dead.

::::::::::::::::::::::

Ruby: I kind of was, long story, I’d love to have a long conversation about how, when and more but I rather do it without a gun pointed at me.

::::::::::::::::::

Sam: Yeah and I’d like to live till I’m old but you’ll probably kill me if I do put my gun down.

::::::::::::::::::::::

Ruby: Sam, I was on my way somewhere and, believe me, you’re the last person I thought I’d bump into. I actually tried to avoid you or anyone. There’s someone higher than you on my killing list... plus if I recall well you’re the one who holds a grudge against me.

:::::::::::::::::::::

Sam: Well in all fairness you did lie and manipulate me to free Lucifer but hey that's not anything "major" right? Tell me why you are here, who is it you're looking for and maybe I might not send you back to hell.

::::::::::::::::::::

Ruby: [Fair point, she had used you, bringing you down emotionally or using how lost you were to lead you where she wanted you to go]

I’m hunting Meg [She bluntly said, no need to beat around the bush, not under the menace of a gun held by a hunter who knew what he was doing]

::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sam: -He seemed to believe her a relaxed a little.- I'd love to end her. So what enemy of thine enemy this round?

::::::::::::::::::::

Ruby: It's definitely not a game I want her dead Sam. She tortured me in Hell, for pure pleasure, it wasn't even her job.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sam: So this is a vendetta because Meg’s a nut job… and how do I know she didn’t send you thinking you could talk me into false security?

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ruby: Yeah because I’m the best person to send to make you feel safe.

We didn’t really part friends remember?

Believe me or not, I don’t care, just don’t shoot me and I’ll go my way. All I want is having her dead, once and for all.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sam: I remember. She’s not stupid and probably got plenty of back up. -Lowers his gun.- How about a temporary truce with us to take her on?

::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ruby: [A truce? She looked at you and remained silent for a moment then she nodded her head]

She probably has back up. Up there with the so called satanists… A vessel farm for us demons I was thinking of dismantling it as well. Kill the Meg network.

:::::::::::::::::::

Sam: I can live with that, they’re abducting children and sacrificing them. Any idea of how many are up there?

:::::::::::::::::::

Ruby: It’s not that big a coven, satanists aren’t that many despite what people think, I mean real ones. I’d expect a dozen for we're close to the dark moon. That’s why I’m expecting Meg to be there.

[She allowed herself to move closer]

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Sam: I was going to hit them during the daylight. -Sam sat down on a downed tree log.-

:::::::::::::::::

Ruby: Some are there during the day but if you want to catch them all and be sure demons are there, /Meg/ is there, you have to go at night on a dark moon which is tomorrow night but preparations must be made to “call the devil” [That part made her roll her eyes]

::::::::::::::::::::::

Sam: Alright then, guess we go tomorrow night. If there any kids in there I want your word you'll get them out of there and I'll handle the other. -He was serious about this and knew she could grab the kids up and disappear faster than he could think.-

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Hunting Ground (Part 9): Epilogue

Request: Yes, continuing Hunting Ground from the alt ending! I think it would be amazing!

Hunting Ground Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language

A/N: This part takes place after Part 8: The Alternate Ending...

Dean was gone not five minutes before Sam was sighing heavily from the couch. You lifted your head from your computer, choosing to work from home on the stormy day. He was staring at his laptop but said nothing so you turned your attention back to your screen.

He sighed again and you let out one of your own. It’d been four months of Sam living with you and Dean, four months of barely keeping it together, four months of Sam wearing Dean and everyone down into believing maybe Sam had just made a poorly timed joke, been really weird when you met. You’d spent the better part of your morning in bed with Dean whisper arguing with him over it. Sam had his claws in Dean and he was becoming more and more convinced that Sam wasn’t the killer you’d thought. 

But you remembered that car ride, the way Sam looked at you. There was protective baby brother and then there was downright threatening.

“Y/N, want to play hooky today?” asked Sam, shoving his computer away. “I just emailed my boss and told him I’m sick.”

“Sam, I have work,” you said. “It’s pouring out, it’s not good hiking weather anyways.”

“Well I already emailed your boss too. Come on, we’re hanging out today,” he said, standing up and closing your computer. You sighed and gave him a glare. “We have a problem and I think it’s time we got it out in the open.”

“What problem would that be?” you asked, crossing your arms. Sam simply walked over to the hall closet and pulled on his rain jacket and boots. 

“Not here,” he said, tossing you your jacket. It wasn’t often that you went somewhere alone with Sam, mostly because you never knew if you were coming back but if he was ready to confess, you were taking the risk. You just wanted a normal life with Dean again.

“Where are we going?” you asked, sliding your arms through, moving to write Dean a note. Sam’s hand caught your arm and pulled you back to your shoes.

“We’ll be back before he’s home. Let’s go,” said Sam, waiting as you put on your boots. He locked up behind you before putting a hand on the small of your back and guiding you over to his truck. When he turned left on the road, out of town, you knew today wasn’t going to end well.

Sam parked on a pull off meant for people renting cabins and grabbed a bag from his trunk, waving you to follow after. The path was almost all mud and the heavy rain didn’t help. Eventually you got to a rockier part of the trail and Sam got the two of you headed towards one of the cabins. There was a light on inside and Sam was quick to open the door and usher you in. 

There was a pile of wood near the fireplace and the kitchen looked stocked. There was even a pile of books, books you liked to read, on the table.

“Don’t freak out,” said Sam. You instantly walked to the other side of the room, Sam scowling as you tracked mud all over the place. “I just cleaned that.”

“Deal with it,” you said, eyeing the firepoker. 

“How have you not figured it out by now?” he asked, taking off his coat and boots, walking over and tossing a few logs in the fireplace. “I thought I was being pretty obvious.”

“Touch me and Dean’ll-”

“For fucks sake, Y/N, I’m not a killer. I’m a cop,” he said. “FBI. I was at the academy doing my advanced training the same time you were you idiot. You remember that day you nearly wiped out on the stairs, cracked your head open?”

“No you...” you said, tilting your head at him, remembering why he’d always looked familiar. “Moose?”

“Yeah pipsqueak, it’s me, Moose. FBI agent. Ya know, not a serial killer,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“Just because you’re FBI doesn’t mean...why the fuck are you so weird?” you asked, moving to stand by the door.

“Because I had to know that Dean really was good. Because I had to prove it to a lot of people. Those murders, they weren’t the only one’s he was suspected of. All of it, everything came into question when shit went down. I’ve been clearing his name for-”

“No, his name got cleared when we caught the dickhead that came here. We got it cleared when-”

“Some people thought you may have become a willing participant of Dean’s, that you’d been corrupted,” said Sam. “They weren’t ever watching me, they were watching you two.”

“How can I believe you?” you asked, throwing your arms up. “This is-”

“Y/L/N,” said a voice you hadn’t heard in a long time. You saw the black haired man in a trench coat step out from the back room, giving you a smile.

“Cas? Cas what...” you trailed off. “You’re working the undercover units, not...”

“Y/N,” said Sam, giving you a smile. “I’ve only ever been your friend. I know you and Dean, you’re the good guys. So am I.”

“I apologize for the run around and all but there were some concerns with letting Dean go free. His old department still felt as though he may have been responsible for crimes down there, that he might be capable of-”

“Cas would you drop the formal bullshit for once and talk to me like my friend?” you asked, rubbing your hands over your face. “Just tell me the bottom line here.”

“Sam is an undercover agent and not a killer. Dean isn’t a killer and neither are you. The investigation has concluded and Sam will be starting a new assignment soon,” said Cas, giving you a smile.

“I thought Sam was going to murder me in my sleep for how many months because you assholes never got it through your heads that Dean is a good man?” you said, letting your rage boil over now. For the first time Sam looked scared of you and you were a little bit happy for it. “Why the hell did you have to say those things to me? Why did you-”

“Sam, maybe now would be a good time to tell Y/N about your new assignment,” said Cas, walking past you before you could throw a punch. “Like before she goes ballistic and actually kills someone.”

“Too late,” you said, Sam looking more like a scared puppy than anything.

“I’m kind of on protection detail for you,” said Sam, looking around. “Hence why I tried to get some stuff you-”

“Protection from what exactly? And where is Dean?” you asked.

“Cas is Dean’s detail. He’s going to swing by his work and bring him to his cabin,” said Sam.

“Dean’s not coming here?” you asked, turning around, seeing only the foods you and Sam liked on the shelves. “Why-”

“You know the drill, Y/N. You and Dean are both civillians. We’re in charge, not you,” said Cas. 

“Protection from what?” you asked again. Sam and Cas both nodded at each other, waiting for the other to speak. “Guys! Talk or I’m going home.”

“The reason Dean was still under investigation was...” said Cas, glancing at Sam who sighed.

“You know how Hank wanted Dean to, ya know, be his prodigy? Well there was a suspicion he had one before. Murders in another place, not too far from the training academy Dean was at. They kind of saw a pattern of where Dean went, murders went so it was either Dean or someone who really liked him and followed him,” said Sam.

“Hank’s dead. You’re saying Hank had another prodigy?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“We’re saying Hank was a prodigy. Hank, he flunked out of the academy his fifth week, Y/N. Somebody recruited him and Hank tried to recruit Dean. Now there’s a fear that the guy who taught Hank isn’t too happy with Dean or you,” said Sam. 

“This is all conjecture though, like there isn’t-”

“There was a murder about 200 miles from here. Same MO as those original murders, the ones from Dean’s training days. Sam was with you both when it happened so you’re in the clear but this guy probably knows you’re in Hunting Ground,” said Cas.

“Oh come on! Another one!” you shouted, stamping your foot on the ground. “Why do weirdo’s like Dean so much?”

“You’re a weirdo and you like him,” said Sam, a tiny smile on his lips.

“I’m still pissed off at you for...ya know, everything,” you said, trying not to look like a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

“I know. I hope protecting you earn’s me back some of your and Dean’s trust,” he said, glancing down.

“Y/N, you know you’ve got to listen to Sam, do what he tells you. We’ll try to set something up where you can talk to Dean at some point but for now it’s best to keep you two separated,” said Cas. 

“You’re separating us because you know this guy is going to try and use me as bait to get to Dean, aren’t you,” you said, Cas digging into his coat pocket and pulling out a phone.

“I’ll take care of him, rookie,” said Cas, handing it over. “Emergencies only.”

“I’m not a rookie,” you said, rolling your eyes as you remember your first day when Cas called you out for being the last one to class.

“Be safe. This guy finds you guys, kick his ass for me,” said Cas, giving you a quick hug. “Rookie, Sam. I’ll check in tomorrow.”

When he walked out, you could only hear the rain on the roof, Sam rocking awkwardly on his feet.

“So...are you hungry?” he asked.

“You thought Dean-”

“Dean thought I was capable of some shit too. Neither one of us is perfect. I was always trying to help him and I knew deep down he never did that crap. You want to hate me for the things I said, the way I creeped you out, I deserve it but leave the rest out,” said Sam, turning his attention to the fire.

You scowled but took off your coat and boots, looking around and finding something to clean up the mess you made as Sam got the fire going and some heat in the place. When you’d finished he was still sitting in front of it, his head down. 

“Dean always said he couldn’t believe you were bad,” you said, watching his back tense up.

“I was trained how to act like a bad guy, not how to deal with acting like that towards my brother’s girlfriend, someone who is like a little sister to me but can’t stand to look at me,” said Sam, poking the fire for no real reason other than to avoid turning around and facing you. “It’s really hard to care about someone and know that you repulse them.”

“Sam,” you said, walking over and sitting beside him. He moved away a few inches, and then another few when you moved closer. “Sam.”

“What,” he said, putting the poker down, staring at the floor in front of him. 

“Look me in the eye,” you said. Sam didn’t budge, even when you bumped his shoulder. “Sammy, look at me.”

“I’m not Sammy. You and Dean...you don’t like me...Dean doesn’t look at me the same since that day in the truck. I know you told him and he’s always watching me, and he hates me and I will take it all but I don’t get Sammy anymore. I hurt my family, even if I was trying to help, I hurt them and I don’t get to be called Sammy,” he said, a barely there waiver to his voice.

You got up and let him be, making a few cups of hot chocolate before sitting back down next to him, handing him one. He squinted at it and you sat it down in front of him.

“You’ve seen me do this with Dean,” you said, grabbing his hand and putting it around the mug. “Go ahead, I didn’t poison it.”

“Why are you making me drink hot chocolate?” he asked. “I don’t want-”

“I told you I’m pissed off at you. I never said I hated you. I get pissed off at Dean sometimes but I love that man more than life itself. So drink your hot chocolate and let me tell you, Sammy, that Dean never gave up hope that you were playing at something else. I always hoped I was wrong too. Today’s a good day, alright?” you said, watching his head lift for the first time since Cas left.

“But-”

“Sam, you want to make it up to me and Dean? Find this guy and help keep me safe. Dean’ll be a whole world of happy if you make sure nothing happens to me,” you said, giving Sam a smile. 

“Why are you being so nice?” asked Sam, slowly raising his mug up to take a sip.

“Because I don’t like being mean,” you said, bumping his arm. “Everything Dean has ever told me about you, you’re going to let this tear you up inside if someone isn’t there for you. Let me be that person. From what I’ve heard, I’m pretty good at helping out the Winchesters.”

“I honestly thought you were going to rip my head off five minutes ago,” said Sam.

“Well I guess I can see how a couple of the things you did were the real you, like the time you made me a birthday cake,” you said. “Or how you did all the chores all the time.”

“I’m going to keep doing all the chores too. I know I’m not out of this hole yet,” said Sam, turning his head to look at you.

“Well you can look me in the eye at least,” you said, seeing his own want to flicker down again. “You’re a bit too nice for undercover, Sam.”

“I know. I only did this because it was Dean,” he said, forcing his head to stay up. “He’s probably going to kill me when he finds out.”

“I think relieved is the word you’re looking for,” you said standing up. “So how long are we stuck here?”

“The task force is doing a slow sweep so-”

“We’re going to be here for weeks,” you said, looking around at the cabin meant for weekend getaways, not long term living.

“I kind of snuck into your amazon account and bought a bunch of books and movies you were looking at. We’ve got a generator but we should try to limit using it at night, not attract attention,” said Sam.

“This is going to be loads of fun.”

Three Weeks Later

“Sam, I’m out of shaving cream. Can I use yours?” you asked, walking out of the small bathroom to where Sam was rearranging the furniture for the third time this week.

“Yeah. I don’t really need it,” he said, running a hand over his cheek that was now covered in a beard. “I figured I didn’t get you enough.”

“You got plenty, I’m just really shitty at rationing,” you said, walking to the kitchen cupboard where he kept his stuff. “You can put your toothbrush in the bathroom ya know, I don’t need the whole thing to myself, Sam.”

“No, I’m okay, it’s yours,” said Sam, nudging the chair with his hip.

“Sam, stop punishing yourself. I’m tired of you being all twitchy around me,” you said. “We share a bedroom and you don’t even relax in bed.”

“I keep telling you I can move the cot to the living room-”

“I keep telling you it’s warmer in the bedroom at night, Sam,” you said with a sigh. “What do I got to do to convince you I’m not mad anymore?”

“But you should be mad-

“You get to tell me if I can go for a walk outside or when to turn off the lights at night and all that crap but you don’t get to tell me how I feel, got it?” you said.

“Yes mam’,” said Sam, moving the chair back to where it orginially was. 

“When I’m done with my shower can we maybe go outside today?” you asked. Sam sighed and you rolled your eyes. “Come on, it’s been two days. Can we open a window at least?”

“Finish getting dressed and I’ll see what we can get for you,” said Sam, moving the chair again.

“We’ve got to find you a hobby, Sam,” you said, watching him eye the couch again. 

About thirty minutes later you were dressed and sitting at the small kitchen table, watching a caterpillar outside the window crawl up the pane of glass. Sam had stopped making noise and he was nowhere to be found when you glanced over. That was normal, sometimes he had to go and do his checks.

Thirty minutes later when he wasn’t back you finally got up and went to one of the other windows, looking around. There was no note on the table or counter. You checked all the other windows before standing back at the front door.

“I’m going to get in so much trouble,” you said, opening the door, spotting Sam walking back up the trail with his best bitch face on. “I thought something was wrong!”

“I was only getting your surprise,” he said, waving behind him as your gaze travelled to the man now hiking up the trail.

“Long time no see,” said Dean, sporting a bread of his own. “We can go home again.”

“Really?” you asked, Sam giving you a nod.

“We caught him while you were in the bathroom. Dean volunteered to be bait seeing as we weren’t getting anywhere,” said Sam. “And he was driving Cas up the wall apparently.”

“Sammy we can really go home?” you asked again, Dean reaching the front door and pulling you into a big hug.

“Yeah, we’re finally done with it.”

A few hours later you were walking back through your front door, noticing the layer of dust over everything, Sam proclaiming he’d clean up everything as soon as he could.

“Sam,” said Dean, stopping his younger brother in his tracks. Sam stood by the front door, looking at Dean and then you before you nodded and urged him not to let his head fall down. 

“Let me have it,” said Sam, shutting his eyes, probably expecting a fist to the face. Instead he got a hug from Dean, his eyes flying open. “I don’t understand.”

“Never do anything like that ever again or I’ll have Y/N kick your ass for me,” said Dean, holding onto Sam tight. “I am so furious with you for messing with me like that but you kept her safe so thank you.”

“Dean, don’t be too hard on Sam. I think I was finally getting him to not feel so bad about this whole thing,” you said. Dean nodded and took a step back, lifting you up and spinning you around. You’d expected a happy homecoming but even this was a little more than you were anticipating. “Sam, what did he mean kept me safe?”

“It’s nothing, sweetheart,” said Dean, not good at hiding the lie on his face.

“Sam?” you asked. He shrugged and kept his mouth shut. “He got close, didn’t he?”

“Sammy, had to hide you one night. He could have ran outside and got him but he wasn’t leaving you alone, didn’t want to scare you so he stayed and kept quiet. He did good,” said Dean, putting you down. 

“I got to fill out some reports at the station and then go clean up the cabin and pack up my stuff here but I’ll be out of here tonight,” said Sam, backing up. “I’ll see you guys later.”

He ducked out of there into the rain and over to his truck before Dean or you could say a word.

“Y/N,” asked Dean, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you both watched Sam go down the drive. “Is he okay?”

“No. I don’t think he’s okay at all,” you said, leaning into him, feeling the tension out of his body for the first time since those few short weeks of alone time you had. “He’s terrified of us. I’ve been trying to wear him down but he really doesn’t want forgiveness.”

“I’ve got a really stupid idea if you want to help me make Sammy okay again,” said Dean, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Missed you.”

“Me too. Let’s hear this stupid idea of yours.”

Dean’s stupid idea turned out to be pretty ridiculous, the plan to make Sam feel like a good guy again somehow resulting in you and Dean locked outside your own house, covered head to toe in water shivering like wet dogs. When Sam finally came up the drive you could practically see his eye roll from his truck, Dean and you huddled together on the front step.

“What are you two doing?” asked Sam, dashing outside and over to the front door, unlocking it and shoving you both inside. “Geez, I just spent the past five months saving you guys, don’t die of hypothermia on me.”

You were too cold to comment as Sam kicked his shoes off and helped you and Dean with your own, a hand on each of you as he walked you to the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the shower.

“Undress, get in there and I’ll find you warm clothes,” said Sam, pulling the door shut. Dean gave you a shaky smile as he got out of his layers, helping you when you were stuck with your sock. Both of you pressed up against each other under the warm water, letting out sighs of relief.

“T-this is the s-stupidest p-plan on earth,” you said, wrapping your arms around him to try to get even more warmth in you.

“I k-know. It’s w-working though,” he said, rubbing up and down your back. “Just keep letting him take care of us and it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, just turn the water up hotter, I really am freezing to death,” you said. Dean stayed under the shower water with you for a long while, Sam knocking on the door and putting fresh clothes on the counter, taking your wet ones away. When you finally felt your fingers again and were walking into the living room with Dean, Sam was staring at the couch.

“Sit,” said Sam, tossing a blanket at each of you when you did so. “Really, Dean? You did this same exact thing we when were kids when I broke your arm cause I felt bad.”

“I...have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Dean, Sam flicking him in the side of the head. “Hey!”

“I’m not a little kid you can trick anymore,” he said, crossing his arms. “Are you two good or can I pack up my stuff and leave now?”

“I think Dean and I should get whatever we want from you for what you did,” you said, Dean nodding his head.

“Whatever we say, you got to do, no questions asked,” said Dean. “No matter what, understand?”

“Go ahead, I can take it,” said Sam, unfolding his arms and taking a long swallow. Dean gave you a smile and looked at Sam.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here with us,” said Dean.

“I am not-”

“Hey, we get whatever we want, remember?” you said. You gave Sam a smile and saw Dean nod, waiting for you to do the next part. “The Hunting Ground police force was impressed with your investigation Sam. That and with the recommendation Cas gave you and your boss, well, the recently vacated position of Chief of Police is yours for the taking.”

“See? We even found you a job so you don’t feel like a bum. A nice quiet police job where you get to help people and still be a nice guy,” said Dean. “You don’t even have to give up your pension.”

“I mean, I don’t think Dean and I are asking all that much, right babe?” you said, turning to Dean with a big grin.

“No! Just want you to have a job you’ll be happier with, a home you’ll be happy with, a family you’ll be happy with...I mean you screwed with us so we should get to do whatever we want to you,” said Dean.

“This is what we want Sam,” you said, his face still blank. “No matter how much we want it though, we won’t force you to stay. We both just want you to be okay again.”

“We both forgive you. You forgive us too so let’s just be a normal family for once, alright? I miss my annoying, nerdy little brother,” said Dean. “Don’t let this ruin us. We can get something good out of it. I mean I got Y/N. You got her too if you just let us back in.”

Sam didn’t say anything but sat down on the couch, right between you and Dean, slumping down and stealing part of your blankets.

“Sammy,” said Dean, putting a hand on top his brother’s head. “You staying?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, Dean mouthing thank you for calling in every last favor you were still owed to work the new job for Sam. “I want to stay.”

“Thanks Sam.”

Two Months Later

“Uh, Miss is this gentleman bothering you this evening?” asked Sam, walking into Trapper’s and taking a seat beside you at the bar where Dean was scoffing at him.

“Oh, yes, he’s such a trouble maker. I may need to borrow your handcuffs to keep him in line,” you said, Dean raising an eyebrow.

“Oh? You want to play that game tonight? I think it’s your turn to be the criminal,” said Dean, sliding a drink over for Sam. “How was work, Chief?”

“Mrs. Robinson’s dog got loose this afternoon. I spent three hours looking in the woods for him only to find out he was laying in the sun in the next yard over,” said Sam, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Want big bro to teach you some detective skills, dumbass?” asked Dean with a smirk.

“Says the guy who didn’t know I was FBI, jerk,” said Sam, ordering his normal turkey burger for dinner.

“Bitch,” said Dean, taking another sip. “Seriously, you like it? You’re happier lately.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I stayed around,” said Sam. “Even if I’m stuck with you two losers.”

“Us two losers?” you said to Dean. “Sammy...”

“No, nope, you’re definitely a loser too, Y/N,” said Sam, ruffling the top of your head. 

“Dean, you going to defend my honor or something?” you asked, your hair all over the place at this point.

“Of course sweetheart,” said Dean, clearing his throat. “Sam...noogies are much more effective. I thought I taught you better.”

“You are both going to get it and not in the fun way,” you said, pointing at Dean as you felt Sam’s palm mess up your hair for good. “You are the police chief Sam!”

“Teasing wasn’t in the guidebook if I remember,” he said, finally letting you go and helping pat your hair back in place. He threw his baseball cap on your head when it wouldn’t go down and you saw Dean smiling at the bar out of the corner of your eye. “How’d your guys day go?”

“Good,” you said, Dean still glancing down. “Dean got a promotion.”

“Gary finally retired huh? That’s awesome Dean,” said Sam with a proud smile on his face. 

“It’s no big deal. He’s moving to Florida, said it’s time to let someone else take care of town,” said Dean, looking at Sam. “You’re doing a good job, Sam.”

“Would you just take the glory for once?” asked Sam, nodding his head. “I’m proud of you. Be happy.”

“I am. Are you?” asked Dean, cocking his in response.

“Yes. What’s with the third degree?” asked Sam.

“Just checking is all,” said Dean. Sam turned to you, knowing you cracked easier than Dean. 

“We have a thing we do, Dean and I, to make sure you don’t ever get down like that again. No way am I telling you what it is but just...we check on you sometimes,” you said, Dean seeming to be okay with you sharing that.

“Thanks,” said Sam quietly, fiddling with his drink until his burger came out. “So we going hiking still tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” said Dean, relaxing into his seat. “First annual Winchester family hiking trip. Been looking forward to it all week.”

@anokhi07 @xxwinchester-22xx @charliebradbury1104 @everyday-supernatural-af @squirels-angels-and-moose @youwerelikeadream @drugpug @darkx143 @kristaparadowski @tom-is-in-my-tardis @tanithlowisabamf @smoothdogsgirl @dancingalone21 @ktrivia @demonic-meatball @feelmyroarrrr  @cojootromuelle @gallifreyansass @fangirl1802 @casgetoutofmydiddlydarnass @mogaruke @secretlyfurrydragon @perpetualabsurdity @ria132love @heycassbutt-67 @aingealcethlenn @docharleythegeekqueen @missmotherhen @smacklesandstretch67 @ceeceewinchester

@tumblinwith-me @xfanqirlinq @heaven-is-aplaceonearthwithyou @hey-um-misha @bennyh @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @lovelife-tothefullest @under-general-asthetics @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @missdestiel67 @evyiione @jensenackesl @xxxdevine-demonsxxx @ayeeitsemry @mac5323 @atc74 @captainemwinchester @lemonadegazeelle @nanie5 @idalinette @quiddy-writes @sassyspn67 @pureawesomeness001 @poukothenerd @af112992 @mickey-m399 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @upon-a-girl @amazinntay @akshi8278 @baconlover001 @flufy07 @jayankles@alilianamendez @batmanprincesskitten @uniquewerewolfsuit @whit85-blog @spn-ficfanatic

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@acreativelydifferentlove  @bellastellaluna  @maximoffangel-girl @boxywrites @milo-winchester-4ever

[abalonetea]

spdrabblebomb - treat

Prompt – treat Word count – 1,738 Characters – Kenny/cartman, Karen Notes – for @lilcrimestoppers and @spdrabblebomb.

  "Right this way, m'lady." Cartman gives a sweeping gesture with one arm. The walkway is lined with bright orange fairy lights. "Your chariot awaits!"   Kenny titters. "How charming! I knew that picking you as my prince was the way to go. Tell me, Sir Cartman. Where is tonight's destination?"   "Treats and tricks, hidden in the lowly boroughs. We won't have to worry about poison in your apples there, Princess Kenny."   Karen trots gamely after her brother. The bright blue skirt she's wearing is a little too short. Her wings bounce every time she takes a step. Considering that Kenny's been out with her for almost half an hour, the red candy bag that she's holding is pathetically empty.   But then, that's always the case out here. No one in South Park ever bothers to do anything for Halloween. The school costume contest is still the biggest event of the night, and a few half-assed jack-o-lanterns are the closest thing to decorations.   She slips a small, white gloved hand into Kenny's. "Is Eric going to come with us?"   "He sure is," answers Kenny, cheerfully. His own bag is a worn pillow case, folded down at the edges. There's a bleach stain at the bottom of it. "I knew that you'd be the reason my shining knight came, Karen. And lo, he even arrived with a glorious steed!"   Karen giggles. She has to tilt her head back to smile at Cartman. Her red lipstick is smeared. "You make a really nice knight."   "Of course I do," huffs Cartman. "I'm the best damn knight South Park's ever seen." He jogs a few steps, just enough that he can duck in front of them. A knight has to get to the horse first, after all, and Cartman can't deny that he gets a thrill out of seeing their faces when he pulls open the door to the back seat. "My ladies."   Kenny has to help Karen into the car. Her skirt is pretty full, and she can't quite scramble in like she might normally be able too. After a moment, Kenny gets in the backseat with her. They don't bother with seatbelts; no one does on Halloween. Instead, Kenny hooks an arm over the back of each front seat and pulls himself up between them.   "Hey," he says, cheerfully. "Thanks for driving us. Sorry we didn't wait for you."   "You should be sorry," sniffs Cartman. He rolls down the window opposite him. "I tell you to wait, Kenny, you should fucking wait. Thirty minutes obviously didn't break you. Your bags are empty as fuck."   "Yeah, but Karen didn't want to wait. She has school tomorrow, dipshit. She shouldn't be out too late tonight."   "It was half an hour," grumbles Cartman, ripping the steering wheel to the left. It's not that he isn't careful about driving, but it's late at night and not a lot of other cars are out. There's a bit more lee-way then most days.   Karen presses her face against the window. Her breath leaves thick smears of fog on the glass. "Kenny? Why're we going into town?"   They turn onto seventh court; it's the road that leads into Shitty Part Town. The few houses that have been wedged between the stores have their porch lights turned off. No one ever gives out candy in this part of town, not even the baggies of loser candy that Kenny's gotten most of the night.   "Uh, Cartman? We actually need to go to peoples houses if we want to trick or treat." Kenny pulls himself farther into the front seat, like getting closer to his boyfriend might change something.   Cartman snorts. "No shit, Kenny. Trick or treating's kind of the whole plan."   "So - houses?"   "I'm not spending all night knocking on the doors of assholes who can't be bothered to buy actual candy. And that garbage you have isn't candy."   "Okay," says Kenny, dragging out the word. "It's not great but - where do you think we're going?"   Shitty Part Town is still the most popular place in South Park. Most of the stores are still open, and the few eateries that have cropped up are all cram packed. The parking for Skeeter's bar over flows into the street, and Cartman has to swing into the other lane so he doesn't hit any of them.   Someone's strung up a loop of orange lights on the outside of City Wok. It's the only decoration in the entire district. It's probably going to be the last decoration for a while, too, because Shitty Part Town bleeds out into the edges of South Park; the old gym and the forgotten stores; crumbling apartment buildings and the truck-stop diner.   There are definitely no places to get candy out here.   "Dude," insists Kenny. He jabs the other boy in the shoulder. "What the fuck?"   "Just sit down, Kenny. You're bothering me." Cartman turns up the volume on the radio. It's got to be one of his mix tapes, because no station has played this song in years. "If you wanted a say in where we went, you should've waited for me. Now you're just stuck going wherever."   Kenny does drop back into the rear seat, but only because Karen has flopped down and started going through her candy bag. Biting back a rather sour groan, he flings an arm around his little sister's shoulders. "You get anything good?"   "Someone was giving out kisses," answers Karen, holding up one of the foil wrapped bits of chocolate. It's not Hershey's, but one of those off-brand dollar store imitations. She still looks happy with it.   Her plastic tiara is crooked. Kenny pushes it back into place. "You know who else is giving out kisses?"   Uncertain, Karen tilts her head back and blinks up at him. "Who?"   "I am!" He descends on her in a flurry of purposefully sloppy kisses and tickling hands. Karen squeals loud enough that he can't hear the music; to his credit, Cartman doesn't turn the volume up.   By the time that Kenny surfaces, Karen's cheeks are ruddied and she's breathing hard. They've pulled onto the old mountain road that leads out of town. It's snowing out, just a little. The flurries of white pass over the front windshield; headlights casting twin shadows on the otherwise dark road. If the streets in South Park are crumbling, these roads fell apart years ago.   No one's done anything out here in years. The road is a mess of divots and pot holes, these crumbling chasms where the edge just falls away into a snow filled ditch. People hate driving them, hate it even worse at night; but childhood dreams don't ever fade completely, and Cartman's always loved coming out here when no one else is around, slamming on the gas and seeing how much speed he can pick up before he hits one of the turns.   He's good at driving. He's good at being out here.   But it's Halloween, and there are literally no houses outside of town boundaries. Jimbo has an old hunting cabin, but that's about the extent of it. Kenny squirms back up between the two front seats, trying to get close as he can to Cartman. The folds of his skirt get hiked up around his thighs; white glove standing out when he grabs hold of Cartman's black button down. "Dude, what are you doing?"   "Going trick or treating. Relax, babe. I just figure, what's the point of taking the car if we're just going to hit up Mackey's house and go home?"   “You know that the trees aren’t going to give us anything, right?”   “What, seriously? Here I thought that you all would be happy with some magic apples from the forest.”   “Dude, it’s great that you’re bringing the car out, but my sister actually wants to get some candy tonight.”   Cartman rolls his eyes. He adjusts the rearview mirror so he can get a better view of the back seat. When he smiles, it’s big enough to show off his slightly crooked teeth and dimples. “Hey, Karen. You trust that your prince is going to take you somewhere really great, right?”   Karen looks up from her bag. There’s discount chocolate smeared over her lips. “Huh? Oh, yeah! The brave knight always knows how to get to the castle! Right, Kenny?”   “Princess Kenny,” he corrects, lightly. Kenny stays wedged between the two front seats. Quieter, he asks, “seriously, Cartman. Where are we going?”   It’s snowing out, just a little bit. The roads twist and Cartman steers the car through the turns without problem; has spent hours our here, days, weeks, enough time to amass to months spent out driving on these desolate roads because there’s something utterly intoxicating about the complete silence. The main highway breaks off into several smaller roads, little things that lead out to hiking trails and hunting cabins, to towns smaller than South Park that haven’t even made it onto the maps.   And then there’s County Road Seventeen, which branches off the highway to the right, goes up a steep hill before leveling out. Cartman wants to ask you trust me, right? He doesn’t, though, because he loves Kenny but will always be just a little bit afraid of those sorts of questions.   Instead Cartman gives in and says, “I figured we’d hit up Cherry Creek. It’s been ages since we went all the way out there, right? You remember the huge ass candy bars they gave out when we were in Garrison’s class? I bet anything they still give them out. I just figured that’d be a better use of our time then hiking around our dump of a town. ”   Kenny’s teeth smack together hard enough that it’s audible over the music. Kenny blinks, opens his mouth, closes it again. The roads are a little better taken care of it here. Cherry Creek is eight steps up from South Park as far as decency is concerned, and the people actually care a little bit about the city that they live in. In the end, Kenny sits back down without saying anything and they spend the twenty minute drive listening to music off of the Top Fifties list from 2012.   Street lights show up before the actual town comes into view. A few of them have white ghosts hanging off the post. Cartman says, “alright, my ladies. The kingdom approaches!”

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Cover You in Oil, pt 23

Word Count: 5127 Tags: @outside-the-government, @yourtropegirl @to-pick-ourselves-up-7, @ghostssss, @rampant-salamander, @saysay125, @sistasarah-sallysaidso @shewhorunswithfandoms, @flirtswithdanger @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @anyakinamidala Author’s Note: Any errors in the Russian are solely my own shitty ability.

Sally processed through the hall toward the huge double doors, nearly frozen with fear and tension. She couldn’t remember ever feeling as nervous and anxiety-ridden as she did in that moment. Sasha must have sensed it, because he squeezed her hand to reassure her, and when she flicked her eyes in his direction, he winked.

“I’ve got you, kid,” he said. She swallowed and acknowledged him with a nearly imperceptible nod. As the grand doors of the hall swung open, Sally was overwhelmed by the cheering crowd waiting to see her. She took in the throngs of people, completely astonished by their numbers. She hadn’t thought that many people lived in Latveria. As she and Sasha stepped out, the crowd, on cue, surged forward, knocking over the barricades and swarming around them. The last thing Sally remembered seeing as she descended under the mass of bodies was Victor rising in the open-air carriage, a look of absolute rage and panic on his face.

She felt the crown pulled off, and the bracelets of state. Then the cloak. Soon, she was just in her coronation gown, a sea of hands pulling the symbols of office free from her body as they pushed her toward Sasha. He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her toward a sewer storm grate that had been pulled open, pushing her ahead of him and through the dark opening. Steady hands grabbed her legs and guided her down into the inky black tunnel. Sasha slipped through behind her.

“No lights,” A masculine voice said.

“I can’t see shit,” Sally complained.

“I’m so sorry, Your Majesty, but we would all prefer to stay anonymous.” The voice was sarcastic and Sally felt herself smile despite the irritation. She felt a hand at the base of her spine, and knew it was Sasha beside her.

“I’m gonna unzip the dress, Sally. The seamstress gave you a silk base layer, and then we have some winter clothes for you. I have to get changed too, but there’s someone here to help you,” he said.

“Thanks, Sasha,” she murmured.

“You should probably try to get used to calling me Bucky now,” he corrected. “We aren’t going back.” Sally felt his hand at the zipper, and the dress fell away from her easily. Before she could even try to adjust to the darkness, a sweater was thrust into her hands. She pulled it over her head and stepped out of the pool of dress at her feet.

“Lift your left leg,” the voice ordered. Sally did as she was bidden and felt the man take her boot off and slip a pant leg over her foot before pushing the boot onto her foot again. “Now your right.” She did the same, and again, boot off, pant leg on, boot replaced. He pulled the pants to her knees, and Sally brushed his hands away, pulling them the rest of the way.

“We have to get moving,” a second voice whispered.

“I’m ready,” Sally said, and allowed a strong grip to take her arm and lead her through the dark tunnels. Her eyes were slowly adjusting, and she was beginning to make out shadows, but nothing substantial. She recognized Bucky ahead of her, and knew there was at least one more person behind the man helping her. Bucky led them to a junction in the tunnel.

“Straight ahead will lead you to the baths, left will lead you to the edge of the city,” the man holding her arm said. “Mariya has a vehicle waiting. Be safe, godspeed.”

Bucky took her hand and pulled her down the left corridor, picking up his pace slightly. “As long as you can manage a quick pace, we’re going to haul ass, Sally.”

“I’ll manage,” she managed, through gritted teeth. Her leg was already throbbing, but she wasn’t about of acknowledge the pain she was having. Bucky sped up again, and Sally stumbled to keep up. He caught her easily and helped her along the tunnel, keeping their pace fast.

“We’re nearly there,” he assured her, as the follow the tunnel’s bends and curves. Finally, there was a faint light from a short candle, signaling where they needed to climb up. Bucky climbed up first, and checked the room before reaching down to help her climb through. They popped up in the backroom of Mariya’s bakery. Lying on the bench by the door was snowpants and coats, knit hats and gloves. They quickly dressed and Bucky cracked the door just a hair to assess the outside before opening it, and gesturing for Sally to get into the waiting vehicle. She climbed in first, and Bucky climbed in right behind her, pulling her down to the floorboards and throwing a blanket over her. Mariya looked back at them and offered a tense smile.

“You are ready?” She asked. Bucky nodded. “Then let’s go.” She pulled away from the bakery slowly, leaving the city by a narrow twisting road leading away from the mountains. Once they were beyond city limits, she turned down a barely used path. It had only been driven once or twice since the snow had fallen, and tracks were full of drifting snow. They slowed considerably as Mariya maneuvered the vehicle through the deep snow until they came to a small shack. She got out and trudged through the deep drifts until she got to the cabin and opened it up, checked it and then nodded back to Bucky.

“Let’s move, Sal,” he said, offering his hand so she could hop out of the vehicle. She followed in his footsteps to the cabin, overwhelmed by how slow going it was.

“This is going to take us forever,” she worried aloud. Bucky smiled in reassurance.

“We have a snow machine from here. This is Mariya’s family’s ancestral land, and no one, not even Victor, is supposed to trespass. With you missing, that will be moot, but Victor fears Mariya’s people, so hopefully this will stall him. Grab that pack. You’ll have to carry it while we head up the mountain, but once we’re on foot again, I’ll take it.” Bucky pointed at a backpack sitting on the floor. It matched their snow outfits. Everything looked like it had come from the military. Their snow gear was all off-white and non-reflective, like it was intended for snow maneuvers. Bucky led her to a dilapidated shed a short distance from the cabin, and climbed on the snowmachine inside. Sally noticed Mariya was hauling wood into the cabin and poked Bucky.

“What is she doing?”

“Creating her alibi,” Bucky answered as he revved the snowmachine’s engine. “She’s been up here for nearly a week already, hunting. The fire died down while she was in town, so she’s got to stoke it so it’s nicely banked before any of the Guard get here. She’s also got a nice deer hanging in the cold shed. Shot it last night, I guess.”

“How long has it been since we left the coronation?” She asked. Everything had happened so fast that her head was spinning.

“It was four minutes between the gutter to Mariya’s. Less than ten to the cabin.”

“I owe these people so much,” Sally breathed, unsure if Bucky would hear her.

“Sally,” he shook his head. “You’re their queen now. They’d do pretty much anything for you. That’s why we had to wait until after the coronation.”

“It’s been fourteen fucking minutes, Buck,” she exclaimed, staring at the back of his head in shock as they headed up the mountain. Bucky must have known where he was going because every time Sally looked back, the trees and snow looked the same, but the castle was smaller and smaller until she couldn’t make it out any more. Sally was unsure of the time that was passing, but there were storm clouds rolling across the sky, and the forest was growing dark.

“We’re nearly there,” Bucky called back to her, as they crested a ridge. Another small cabin came into view, with a plume of cheerful smoke rising from the chimney. Bucky pulled right into the storage shed and led Sally inside. “This is our last stop, and we hike from here. There’s no path for about four miles, and then there’s a well-beaten deer path. But until then, we’re on snowshoes. How is your leg holding up?”

“I’m fine,” Sally lied.

“You aren’t,” he countered. “Need something for pain?”

“No!” Sally shook her head. “I need a clear head for this. I will be fine, Bucky.”

“Then let’s get moving,” he said. “There’s an outhouse around the back. Make sure you go before we leave.”

Sally nodded, and met him back at the front of the cabin when she was done. He had his snowshoes on, and was just getting hers ready when a Servo-Guard dropped out of the sky into the snow in front of them.

“State your name.”

“Maxim Petrovich. This is my sister Anastasia Petrovna.” Bucky put the fake accent on again for the benefit of a robot.

“Identity cards?”

“They are in the cabin,” Bucky started. “I’ll just –“

“Database searched. Maxim Petrovich and Anastasia Petrovna, you will appear in lesser court in three days time to answer to the charges against you,” the Servo-Guard cut Bucky off.

“Charges?” Bucky looked confused.

“Absence from the coronation of the Empress. Dereliction of responsibility. Punishable by two weeks servitude to the Emperor.”

“Three days, at the lesser courts?”

“Affirmative.”

“We will be there to acknowledge our crimes,” Bucky acquiesced. The Servo-Guard shot back into the sky without another word. Sally let out her breath in a rush and stared at Bucky. “That was close.”

“That was ridiculous,” Sally agreed. “Let’s go before it realizes it should have double checked us.”

Bucky helped her into the snowshoes and gave her a quick lesson on how to use them before taking the backpack and tossing it on his back. He led her up the mountain, away from the cabin. Sally could feel exhaustion kicking in and as she forced her legs up the mountain, she cursed herself for not doing more hill training while she’d had the chance. They plodded along in silence until the deer trail. It was a beaten down, narrow track twisting up the mountain. In the distance, below them, Sally could see the ski hill where she’d had her accident. They had come a long distance already.

“At the risk of infuriating you, how much further is it?” Sally asked.

“How are you doing?” Bucky countered.

“I’m hungry. And tired,” she admitted. He flipped the backpack in front of him and pulled out a strip of something to hand to her.

“It’s jerky. Eat it, we can take five. We’ve got another three to four hours of hiking ahead of us before we pop over into Hungary,” he said. “Some of it is downhill.”

Sally discovered that Bucky mostly was lying when he said some of it was downhill. It was mostly creeping higher and higher into the mountains with the occasional few steps down an embankment. Her leg had been aching at the coronation hall, and by the time another hour had passed, it was on fire, and she was fighting to contain tears. Bucky was leading, so didn’t see the anguish on her face until she stumbled into him. He turned and caught her before she went face first into the snow, and helped her to sit on a fallen tree.

“You should have said something,” he admonished her.

“I didn’t want to say anything until I knew we were across the border.” Sally gritted her teeth and tried to push herself back to standing, but her leg gave out. “I didn’t actually believe until this moment that my leg had been broken.”

“I still don’t believe it has. I think all your pain is related to that soulmark,” Bucky shook his head. “Come on, I’ll carry you for a while. Climb on my back.” He slid the backpack off his back and handed it to her

“You are not piggybacking me up a mountain, Bucky.”

“You know they used nearly the same serum on me as Erskine used on Steve, right? Climb up,” he turned his back to her and squatted. Sally slung the backpack over her shoulders, and with a great deal of hesitance, wrapped her arms around Bucky’s neck and allowed him to pull her up on his back

“I feel ridiculous,” Sally complained.

“I won’t be as fast this way. If the weather changes, or we’re spotted, you’re going to have to push through the pain and hike,” Bucky said. Sally nodded against his back and kept lookout for the next hour.

The trees got more and more densely packed together the further they climbed, and Sally finally understood why this route wasn’t a concern to Victor. Who would want to climb through a maze of trees, scraping against needles and branches, just to get into Latveria? It hardly seemed worth it. She also understood where all the stories about werewolves and vampires came from, as the shadows playing across the trees made her skin crawl. Coupled with the occasional howl from a wolf, she was feeling a little spooked. Bucky suddenly laughed.

“What is so funny?” Sally snapped. Her pain was easing, but her temper was worn.

“I was in Latveria for close to a year,” Bucky started. “Never once did Victor ask me about my name.”

“I thought Alexandr was a common name?” Sally asked.

“Sure, it was. But don’t you think it should have sent up a warning flag that my last name literally translated as son of the vampire?” Bucky asked. Sally snorted.

“Really?”

“Yeah, in Russian. I didn’t know a lot of Latverian when I crossed the border. Enough that I could get by, but Latverian is kind of a patois or pidgin of Romanian, Hungarian and Russian, with a little Romany tossed in to make it interesting. I had crossed into the country from here, in the Carpathians, and thought it was a funny name. Mariya always said it would be the name that got me caught,” Bucky explained. Sally chuckled softly.

“You’ll miss her,” she commented.

“I probably will. Mariya’s a good woman,” Bucky nodded.

“Will she be caught? Punished?” Sally asked.

“Hopefully not, but she knew what she was doing,” Bucky shrugged, the action bouncing her on his back a little. “She wasn’t doing you any real favours, Sally. She didn’t really care what your outcome was, provided Victor suffered. You were just a catalyzing agent for her revolution.”

“I owe her a debt,” Sally was firm about it. Bucky shook his head.

“You really don’t. You gave her exactly what she was looking for. Instability it the house of Doom. She wants to topple his regime,” Bucky explained.

“And then what?”

“I didn’t ask,” he admitted. Then he laughed again. “I mean, I guess the reality is that the throne passes to you. It would be up to you what happens in Latveria at that point.”

“What?” She squawked. “I’ve run away. I can’t think of a clearer sign of abdication!”

“Until we can get you home and sorted, you are very much still the queen,” Bucky laughed. Their conversation had distracted both of them, and night had fallen around them, chilling the air and silencing the forest. Bucky paused, holding a finger to his lips to silence her questions. Sally’s curiosity about what had stopped him was sated when he threw her to the snowy ground and dropped on top of her, right as a bullet whizzed by their heads.

“What –“ Sally breathed. Bucky slapped his hand across her mouth.

“I think it’s a motion sensing defensive weapon. We’re only about half a click from the border now, and part of the function of the Servo-Guards is border protection. It would stand to reason that Victor had placed some up here. I hope we haven’t triggered a wake protocol,” he interrupted, hissing the words against her ear.

“If it’s motion sensing, how are we going to go that last half kilometer?” Sally breathed, careful to not put her voice behind the words.

“We’re going to have to run, in an erratic pattern,” Bucky replied.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sally started thinking about what it would be like to die on the top of the Carpathians.

“You can do this, Sal. You go first. The goal is the peak up ahead. Once we crest it, the Servo-Guard will shut down, and we’ll be safe. It won’t know to try to identify us, it will only know that we’re too close to the border,” Bucky explained.

“Are you sure?” Sally asked.

“I hacked a great deal of Victor’s files,” he nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, my queen.”

“Oh, fuck off, Bucky.” Sally shoved his shoulder, and he rolled off her, a ridiculous smirk on his face. Sally shook her head. Even in the face of danger. Or maybe because of it, he was laughing. It was no wonder he was a legend. She rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself into a crouch slowly, trying to track where the robot had gone. Bucky tapped her shoulder and pointed to the right, down the hill. Once Sally saw it, she nodded, and got her good leg placed so she would get strength and speed from pushing away. It was going to be hard going through the snow, but it was no longer deep snow due to how close the trees were. Between the trees and the snow though, Sally was sure her path would be erratic. But it was also going to be dangerous.

She took a deep breath and pushed away from the ground, focusing on keeping her eyes on the crest of the hill and weaving in and out of the trees. She could hear something or someone behind her and just kept running, not wanting to know if it was Bucky or the Servo-Guard. She felt a burning pain in her good leg and nearly toppled, crying out, but forced herself to keep going. She glanced over her shoulder and couldn’t see Bucky but could see the Servo-Guard gaining on her. Sally’s heart was hammering in her chest as she forced herself to run, fully exerting herself. Her lungs were on fire. Suddenly, she felt someone grab her arm and tug her ahead and looked up into Bucky’s concerned blue eyes.

“Focus on running. Don’t think about the pain,” he yelled, hauling her along. As they neared the crest, two shadows emerged and Sally sagged. They were caught. Something whizzed past her head, and a strange metallic pop sounded behind her. She glanced back and saw the first Servo-Guard tipping backward, an arrow embedded in its chest. Her head shot back to the top of the mountain, and she could barely make out the silhouette of a bow.

“Clint?” She called.

“Move your ass, Sally!” He hollered, nocking another arrow. “There’s about a dozen closing in fast!”

Muzzle flash to the left of Clint made her narrow her eyes as she continued to push herself forward, half limping, half being dragged by Bucky.

“I just took out two, Clint,” a feminine voice laughed. Natasha. Sally dug deep and pushed herself forward. She was nearing collapse, and there was another biting sting, this time on bum, just above her thigh.

“Just a few hundred feet more, Sally, come on!” Bucky encouraged her. “We’ve got cover now, you can slow down if you need to.”

“Now this, Nat? This is like Budapest!” Clint laughed, releasing another arrow into the darkness.

“You’re right, we do remember Budapest very differently!” Natasha called back, firing her weapon again. Sally collapsed, finally too exhausted to go on. She could barely catch her breath, and everything hurt. Bucky scooped her up, slung her over his shoulder and kept moving, until finally they hit to top of the hill, and he started running down the other side.

“Why are you still running?” Sally asked, watching as Natasha and Clint started to retreat, eyes still on Latveria.

“Those Servo-Guards seem pretty fucking determined for a motion detection protocol. They know it’s us!” Bucky speculated, continuing. “These ones have probably identified us, and they will cross the border. Any reinforcements will stop until they can positively ID us, and then they’ll come across too.”

Natasha and Clint picked off the last three robots, one by one. They turned and started to run, trailing just a little behind Sally and Bucky. Bucky led them down the mountainside, weaving into a dense copse of trees to lose the sighting ability of the Servo-Guards. After he’d led the group of them for about ten minutes, he finally slowed down, carefully dropping Sally on the snowy ground. Sally flinched and tried to push herself back up.

“Let me see the wounds, Sally,” Bucky demanded.

“What wounds?” She asked.

“You were shot. At least twice. I need to get the bullets out.” Bucky pulled the backpack off her and pulled out a field medic’s kit. Sally eased herself over so Bucky could look at her thighs. He poked at the painful spot on her thigh and on her bum, causing Sally to shriek and try to get away.

“I’m sorry, Sally. I gotta get these out,” Bucky apologized. “They could have trackers in them.” He drew up a syringe of something and jabbed her in the thigh. Soon, the pain in the area was gone. Natasha and Clint caught up as Bucky was cutting away the fabric around the wound in her thigh.

“Shot in the ass. Totally Budapest,” Natasha nodded at Clint.

“Shot in the thigh. More like Rio,” he countered, flopping into the snow beside Sally. “Other than the lead in your ass, how are things?”

“That’s one hell of an opening line,” Sally laughed weakly. “Strangely, my ass hurts. Thanks for coming you guys.” Sally looked up at Natasha, who was staring at Bucky.

“Вы? Ты Саша?” Natasha was pale, like she was shocked. Sally doubted that happened often.

“Не сейчас, маленький паук,” Bucky warned, not looking up from Sally’s thigh.

“Хуй тебе!” Natasha rolled back on her heels and looked like she was about to light into him.

“Не сейчас, Наталья!” Bucky snapped, holding a bloody hand up. “I’m trying to patch up our friend.”

“Our friend?” Natasha retorted. “Do you even have friends?”

“I have at least two.”

“Sally, are you sure –“

“I know exactly who Bucky is, Natasha. He told me everything,” Sally groaned from the forest floor.

“Even that he shot me?”

“Why would he need to tell me that to help me escape?” Sally asked. “He told me he was a weapon. He’s not a weapon anymore.”

“Another shot, Sal,” Bucky interrupted as he stuck the needle into her again. Natasha fell silent and glared at Clint like she was trying to tell him something.

“Wait, dude there is the Winter Soldier?” Clint asked, suddenly cluing in. His bow came back up, trained on Bucky. Bucky sighed. Sally flinched, causing him to back off the stitches and look at her.

“Clint, do you trust me?” She asked him.

“Well, I don’t know about trust, but you did a damn fine job on my car,” he hedged. Bucky realized the flinching wasn’t his first aid and got back to his field medic work.

“Would you trust another vehicle in my care?” She pressed.

“In a heartbeat, kid,” he nodded.

“And are we friends?” She asked.

“Our bromance will go down in history as the most bromantic of bromances,” Clint smirked.

“I’m going to assume a certain level of trust then, Clint,” Sally started. “The only reason I am here is Bucky. Not even a word of a lie. If it hadn’t been for him, Tony would be risking another Sokovia to rescue me. He’s not who he was.”

Clint relaxed his draw and quivered his arrow. Natasha shook her head and squatted beside Bucky, watching him patch Sally up. “Do you want me to call in Tony now?”

“While my ass is in the air and another man’s hands are all over it? I don’t think that’s a great plan, do you?” Sally winked. Natasha laughed.

“It’s good to see your humour is intact,” she smiled. “But I’m going to have to notify the team that we’ve got you. And Tony isn’t going to wait once I do.” She turned away and held her hand to her ear, speaking quietly as Bucky finished dressing Sally’s wound. Sally pushed herself onto her back and sat up, flinching at the pinching pain where the freezing was starting to wear off. She hugged Bucky, impulsively, and she felt him stiffen. Pushing him away, she took her time assessing him, and saw that he’d also taken at least one bullet in the upper thigh.

“Bucky! Why didn’t you say something?” Sally accused. Natasha turned back to face them, and Sally gestured at the blood dripping down Bucky’s leg. “I don’t know how to fix that.”

“I can,” Natasha offered. She made quick work of cutting back Bucky’s pants and assessing the wound. “This is already healing.”

“I’ve had the serum,” Bucky admitted.

“The serum?” Clint asked.

“The KGB worked with Hydra to replicate the super soldier serum. It was rumoured that the Winter Soldier was the result of that, but there were never any records that could support that,” Natasha explained. Bucky nodded.

“How’s your pain tolerance then?” She asked. “Because I’m gonna have to dig this out.”

“Do what you have to do, маленький паук,” Bucky nodded. Natasha pressed her lips together in a tight line and used her boot knife to cut into his skin, lodging the blade just below the bullet and popping it out. Bucky cursed under his breath. Sally closed her eyes and looked away, a wave of nausea threatening to make her sick.

“Clint, pass me some gauze?” Natasha asked, and pressed the gauze against the wound. “Sorry. I didn’t think about the pain.”

“It’ll pass,” Bucky shrugged. “Let’s get moving.” He pushed himself to his feet and offered Sally a hand. She took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet, and they continued down the mountain, slower than they’d been. Bucky wasn’t impeded at all by his injuries, but Sally’s bullet wounds, coupled with the freezing and the existing issue with her leg, was hobbling, and it was slowing everyone down. The adrenaline was finally starting to wear off, and Sally was spent. She was not some specially powered human. It was not her job to participate in covert operations. And her body was making it clear that it was angry with her. She had no energy left.

“How are you doing, Sally?” Clint asked. She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears.

“I can’t do this,” she managed, dragging in a deep breath.

“You’ve done it. We just need to get you home,” Clint argued.

“I’m tired, Clint. I’m freezing cold. There’s a pain in my ass like a bee stung me, but apparently it’s a bullet wound. And my leg really hurts. I can’t do this,” she cried. Clint pulled her into his arms.

“And I’m telling you right now, this is the easy part. You already completed the hard part. Come on. I’ll help you,” Clint rubbed her back as he spoke. “Nat, take the rear. I’m gonna help Sally down this fucking mountain.”

“I can carry her,” Bucky offered. “I did earlier.”

“I got this one,” Clint shook his head. He collapsed his bow with a flick of his wrist, and snapped it onto his quiver before scooping Sally up into his arms. “Dry those tears, Sally. We’ve got you.” Bucky stepped through the snow to them, and tucked Sally’s hair back under her cap.

“I’ve got something you should probably have,” Bucky said, reaching into his coat. He pulled off Sally’s glove, and reached into his pocket to pull out her engagement ring. “Safe and sound. Just like you.” He then handed her her phone. “It’s time for you to call your man, and let him know you are safe. Natasha has already informed the team, but he really needs to hear it from you.”

“How did you –“

“Because if you were my girl, I’d need to hear it,” Bucky said. “Call him.”

Sally looked at the phone in her hand, suddenly nervous, worried and conflicted. More than anything, she wanted to hear Tony’s voice. But not over the phone. She wanted to hear it because he was standing in front of her, taking her from Clint’s arms into his own.

“Do you want me to tell him to come, Sally?” Natasha read her mind. Sally nodded and laid her head against Clint’s chest as they continued down the mountain. Natasha stepped away and spoke quietly, her back turned. She caught up a few minutes later, walking backward down the hill beside them, her eyes on the trees behind them. “They’re on their way.”

Sally nodded and leaned into Clint. “How long?” Clint asked.

“They’re climbing up. Tony said he doesn’t want to put the suit on unless he has to.”

Bucky continued to lead them down the mountain, the night getting colder and darker. Sally tried to concentrate on anything other than the pain shooting through her leg, watching the trees pass, eventually looking up to watch the stars, silent the whole time. She could feel pressure lifting from her chest as they made their way out of the higher altitude, and slowly, she also could feel herself beginning to relax, the tension leaving her muscles, secure in the knowledge she was with friends and Tony was on her way to her.

Finally, a light flashed through the trees below them, and Sally’s heart started thumping wildly.

“Put me down,” she demanded. Clint wasn’t expecting her to speak, and didn’t hear her. “Clint! Put me down.” He eased her to her feet and Sally started slowly, painfully walking toward the telltale flicker of the flashlight, the other three staying close by. The light flashed across her quickly, and then flashed back and stayed, causing her to raise her hand to block the blinding brightness. And then the light was gone, and the noise crashing through the woods was overwhelming. And Sally was enveloped in a suffocatingly tight embrace.

“I thought I would never see you again. I thought I would die without you.” His words tore into her. “You’re finally safe.”

The burning pain that had been confined to her leg since the accident tore through her entire body, burning her from the inside out, and she collapsed, limp, in Tony’s arms.

[howboutdemwings]

In which I boss @Luchas_L around...

Lassiter - <The walls of the mansion weren't as sound proof as the occupants liked to think they were, if I listened hard enough, I could generally catch a convo or two happening near by. Generally speaking, I avoided eavesdropping on the ones that were more sounds and grunts than words. The doggen were some of my more entertaining group to listen to. The things they spoke about when they thought nobody was around to hear was comedy. Fritz actually was a bit of a mess when he cooked but only because he liked spending his time in the kitchen more than anywhere else. Then there were the rambles of Piper. I never knew what she was going on about but that was endless entertainment too. The Chosen also gave me a chuckle or two from time to time. Their wonder and amazement at things on this side of the earth was so very innocent and pure. To the point of concern but I always left that worry to Phury and the brothers. Until today. A telephone conversation between one of the females here and another up at the Chosen camp had me deep in the bowels of the mansion. Past V's forging area and into a tiny locked Harry Potter under the stairs cupboard. The lock had been no problem in picking but the low ceiling height and tight quarters had me cursing any time I smacked my head against the floor supports or when my wings brushed up against something or another causing it to crash to the floor. Sneaky like a ninja, I was not. But thankfully it didn't take me long to find the item I sought. The branding iron Wrath had used on the male was long since cold but the memory attached to the item was fully intact and because it had served to completely alter the life of someone, I could use it to trace him which was exactly what I needed to do. Rumours floating through the mansion of a male stumbling past the mhis and onto the grounds of the Chosen's compound was not ideal and would send every male in the joint crazy. And since the only vampire I could think of to be related to a brother was the one who had been marked as a traitor, my hunch made the most sense and would be the exact same conclusion Wrath or Phury would make. Chances were good that Q's brother probably became a bit of a wandering soul and given the mark that marred his hand, he was likely having a difficult time finding a female to feed from. He needed a warning before one of the brothers hunted his ass down to give him something worse. Tucking the brand into the back of my jeans and using my wings to conceal the bulk of it beneath my shirt, I tidied up the mess of fallen boxes then closed the heavy wooden door before slipping the lock back in place before I made my way back to my room so I could do a little tracking to make sure my suspicions were correct. > Luchas: *The hike back to my humble shack was full of aching muscles and a headache that resembled what I always imagined a hangover to be like. That symphath had done a number on me. Even though I know he… she… hadn’t laid a finger on me, the mental torture had done the trick just fine, scrambling the neurons up in my brain and lighting them on fire. It was like sparklers going off under my skull. As the small cabin appeared before me, dawn’s warm warning on the back of my neck, I half expected to find the Scribe Virgin herself waiting for me on the other side of the door. No doubt she would take action after a traitor such as myself touched another of her purest creations, then went trudging into the Symphath Colony. But I was greeted with nothing but an empty cabin, the faint smell of fire lingering in the air. My shoulders sagged. In relief or disappointment? I couldn’t quite come to terms with whether I was happy I was alive or regretted that the King let me live. Death would bring an end to this burden of guilt I carried. Death was easy. Which I knew is why the King did what he did. He knew I’d suffer much worse trying to survive in a world I’d betrayed than getting my head ripped off. He didn’t want me to have easy. He wanted to punish me. I locked up for the day, checking the boarded up windows once before starting a small fire and stretching out on the couch. Despite all that had just happened, I still slipped into a deep sleep. Maybe it was like the humans after a large Thanksgiving Day meal. A full, warm, sated belly made them sleepy.* Lassiter: <After closing and locking the door to my room, I crossed over to the large French doors in a few long strides and stepped out onto the terrace that overlooked the grounds. The sun shone bright and felt warm on my skin, filling me with energy despite the temperature of the frigid air. The mansion was mostly asleep which was the reason I had chosen to go snooping around in the basement in the first place. I reached behind me to pull the branding iron out from the back of my jeans and inspected the image, picturing the mirrored version that was imprinted upon the male vampire’s hand. What an awful way to be labeled and in the same instant ostracized from an entire species. My hair fell around my face as I shook my head in disbelief. This was not the way the Creator wished for one of his children to be treated. Even if said child had disobeyed a few of the commandments along the way. Forgiveness was his thing. Always. If remorse was genuine, the bossman would forgive anything. I felt a pull to male begin to form and stitch itself to my insides, similar in the way that I had felt with Tohr, and every other one of my previous charges. It was one I knew I would not be able to deny. My eyes rose to the heavens and I blew out a breath.> Point taken, boss. <Both hands closed around the head of the iron and without trying or needing to force the memory out, it slammed into me. Screams and the sound of searing flesh filled my ears as if I were in the room as it had happened. Wrath’s deep and menacing voice echoed as he kicked the male out on his ass and stripped him of everything that was important to a vampire. I sighed and pulled myself out of the assault of images. The guilt that must weight on his shoulders would be undoubtedly overwhelmingly heavy. I wouldn't need to trace or search out his location. I could already feel the distance between us and the direction in which he was at this moment. Any time I’d been assigned a soul to save, an invisible bond was formed that allowed me to know where they were at all times and gave me the ability to see them within my mind’s eye. Right now, he was in some run down cabin, asleep. Of course. It was daylight hours so I’d have some time to execute my plan. First, I’d make a quick pit stop for my usual soul saving fare. Big Macs and fries. Perhaps a double round given the size of him and how his limbs spilled over the edges of the couch he was currently crashed upon. Then I’d flash myself inside, set the food on the table and wait for him to wake. Hopefully the peace offering would be enough for him to listen to reason and if not…well, it wouldn't be the first time I went toe to toe with a male vampire.> Luchas: *I don’t think I’d dreamed in a long time. Seemed like the less I fed, the less it happened. Maybe my brain was trying to conserve energy, grabbing onto all the rest it could get and not bothering with letting my subconscious come out to play. But today my mind took a fantastical trip. I wandered these hills and valleys, met other vampires, found a home for myself. They didn’t judge me by what I’d done, they didn’t care what my past was, we just all needed a safe place to live. I knew there had to be others out there like me. Vampires lived a millenia, pure bloodlines maybe even longer. Those kinds of miles had to had a few bumps in the road. I know I couldn’t be the first vampire to fuck up royally, and then get the royal exile from the King himself. I was pretty sure I was the only vampire that had gone full Lesser. But there had to be other criminals, other serial killers, other deviants that either met their demise or were cast off like I was with their tail between their legs. In my dream we were sitting down for Last Meal, the night giving way to early dawn as windows were locked up and deadbolts turned. Faces gathered at the table, smiles and tales of one another’s nights on the tips of our tongues. Something smelled delicious, like a warm memory from a life long ago. I searched for the source of the smell but couldn’t find it. I reached across the table, lifting plates, checking dishes, but to no avail. It was sweet, salty, and my mouth was watering for it. Then the sound of a brown paper bag caught my ear, swinging my head around to seek out the source of the most incredible smell. My eyes fluttered open, still half in my dream, the steamy aroma of burgers and fries fresh in my brain. I hummed low, hand rubbing over my stomach. That was one of the best dreams I’d had in a really long time. Usually my days were filled with bad memories and dreams that left me shaking, covered in sweat. But this was different. It was so lifelike, I could still smell the delicious meal. Movement to my side caught my eyes suddenly, my hand going still on my shirt. Someone was there, just a few feet away.* Lassiter: <My arrival to the tiny cabin in the woods was without fanfare or an announcement. One moment I had been standing in the parking lot of Mickey Ds, hands filled with bags of salty, calorie laden, artery clogging goodness and the next, I found myself standing on creaky floorboards next the blond vamp who was sawing logs and had a tiny bit of drool running out of the corner of his mouth. I peered down at him for a few moments, waiting to see if he was one of those light sleepers who roused at the sound of a feather dropping on the floor. I checked behind me to make sure all of mine were still in place then set down one of the bags on the little coffee table close to him then moved around and dragged the chair that had seen better days over to the other end of the table and parked my ass in it. As I fished out my fries and Big Mac, I could feel the wood beneath me moan and groan under my weight but it remained intact, thankfully. To keep my hands busy and away from dipping into his mind to see what he was dreaming about, I shoved a handful of fries into my mouth and chewed as I looked around. The cabin needed some love and elbow grease and a fresh coat of...something...paint maybe. I wasn’t sure it belonged to the boy, and I was pretty sure it didn’t belong to his family either. But I couldn’t blame him for squatting after he had been tossed out on his ass by Wrath. Twisting in my chair after taking a mouth full of two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, onions, pickles and a sesame seed bun, my eyes caught sight of the small wannabe kitchen and barren pantry, he was probably rationing what ever was in there and wasn’t too far from running out. No doubt, he’d be grateful for my thoughtfulness when he woke. Bite by bite, I made my way through my meal then sat back on the chair and propped my vans up on the table, waiting for him to wake. Before I could get impatient and start making a ruckus, he stirred and began to run that scarred and branded hand over his chest and stomach. A wide smile stretched my lips and just as his eyes landed on me, I smirked.> Sleeping beauty finally wakes and I didn’t even have to kiss you. <My head nodded toward the bag of food that awaited him.> You hungry, boy? <Shifting up from the chair but moving slowly, not wanting to startle him more than I already had, I moved my softly glowing hand over the bag to warm the food back up for him then sat back down.> Eat. And before you ask, no, you’re not seeing things. And yes, I really have wings. Luchas: *My eyes cleared as some sort of celestial fast-food worker appeared in front of me. What the Scribe……..were those wings? And that hair…. His face was like one of those greek statues, and his skin glowed like he drank glow-sticks for breakfast. My arms started back stroking, swimming me in reverse up the couch until I was as far away as possible from the stranger that sat in my cabin. How had he gotten in here? And I don’t mean the obvious, through the makeshift front door. I meant how did he get in here without opening it up, making noise, waking me, or burning me to ash by letting the sunshine in? I glanced down at my phone as it lay on the coffee table. It was barely one in the afternoon. But what sat next to the little rectangle with the blinking lights made all the air in my lungs whoosh out. McDonald’s. A big, steaming bag of greasy fast food. My stomach roared to life, crying over the cans of baked beans and other assorted salty vegetables and soups I’d managed to force down over the past few weeks. I slid back over on the couch and opened the bag. Fucking Fade… I was two bites into the oversized burger when my brain finally caught up. As his words replayed in my head, the questions started. Who was this guy? What’s with the radiation? How did he find me? Oh shit…* Is this your cabin? Scribe, I’m so sorry. I just needed a place to crash and came upon it. I didn’t think anyone lived here. I ah… I’m sorry about the furniture. And the doors… Lassiter: <My laugh was loud and obnoxious, the kind of laugh I saved only for the brothers when I wanted them to know they had read a situation all wrong. The kid thought I owned this POS cabin? What an assumption to make. I couldn't fault him seeing as I parked my ass on the chair like I owned it. I did that with everything though. It was just my style. When I had sucked in a couple lungfuls of oxygen, I shook my head and let my amusement filter into my voice as I spoke.> Not mine. Do you honestly think someone like me… <my wings ruffled a little to draw his attention purposely> ...would own a place like this? It looks like you're barely surviving, buddy. And I prefer more than the bare essentials if I have my way. <I gave him have a few moments to let his paranoia fade away before I spoke again, this time all humour was gone and seriousness filled the space between us.> I'm Lassiter. My halo is back at the Manse, where I heard some little chatterbugs talking about a vamp who stumbled his tall ass onto the Chosen compound. You wouldn't have any idea what I'm talking about would you? <I popped a pierced brow at the male, letting him know there would be zero room for lying or beating around the bush.> Luchas: *That one eyebrow arched so high I swear it brushed the heavens. And his wings seemed to fill the room even though he was neatly perched on the lounge chair next to me. I recognized the feeling that came over me. I had felt it before, back at the mansion. When one oversized, badass of a warrior male in leathers and wraparounds had given me the scolding of a lifetime. Branded me a traitor, cast me out, and sentenced me to a life of solitude. Power. In massive quantities. That's what this angel, Lassiter was oozing out into the cabin. I’d been good about staying off the Brotherhood’s radar, not even contacting mine own brother, Qhuinn. I kept away from vampires altogether, managing to only run into a few from my past. A victim or two, even. But I never harmed them, never showed any aggression. In fact, it frightened me to see them, the way they looked at me. A flash of the Chosen I’d fed from flashed across my mind as Lassiter questioned me like a father who caught his son sneaking in past curfew. Was she just another victim on my tab? Is that how every vampire I encountered would be labeled going forward for the rest of my life? I swallowed an unchewed bite of greasy goodness, forcing it down as I set the burger back on the wrapper. Funny how the lump in my throat remained, even as the food slid past.* The Brotherhood knows I was at the Chosen compound? I mean… Scribe, of course they do. I didn’t realize where I was until I was already through the mhis. And then there this female was, coming towards me. I hadn’t fed in so long… she offered, I didn’t force her. I’d never do that, you know. *I stared at the rest of the food, my appetite suddenly gone.* Are you here to punish me? Lassiter: <It was interesting to watch the metamorphosis of emotions fade in and out on the kid’s face. I didn't need to delve into his mind to know what he was thinking, the remorse... the guilt were all as clear as my hair was awesome. His question surprised me though and I slowly shook my head before nodding toward his food, not wanting it to be wasted. It was a Big Mac after all and that was against my code.> I'm not here to dole out any sort of punishment. Seems to me you've already endured a lifetime of that. <I couldn't help the disappointment that crept into my voice for Wrath’s choice as my eyes landed on his branded hand and my brows knit together, wondering if he knew I could remove it for him. I filed that under conversations for another time and focused on the more important matters.> None of the brothers or Wrath for that matter know you were at the compound. Not yet. I heard one of the Chosen talking on the phone about it. They simply believe you to be a brother or trainee or something like that. <easing back on the chair and folding my arms behind my head in an effort to make the kid less jumpy, I held his eyes and spoke in earnest.> I came here to help you. And warn you that a mistake like that could get you dead if you're not careful in the future. I believe it was an honest mistake and I will take care of things at the mansion for you because second chances and forgiveness seem to be lacking when it comes to you. <My eyes stayed on his until I could tell he was feeling uncomfortable before they moved around the tiny cabin again and I let out a sigh.> What exactly was your plan, Luchas? You know you can't hide here forever. Luchas: *I was so sure, so sure the fates had once again had it out for me. That one slip would define me. I hadn’t been up in the mansion proper much during my time there, but I had heard enough down in the med suite to know that the Brothers and their trainees screwed up all the time. Mine own brother was a terrific example of that. He was as stubborn as the night was long, especially when he was trying to protect the ones he loved or the Brotherhood. But with Blay at his side, he was able to find his place--and forgiveness--among Wrath’s most trusted males. I knew there were times when they fought amongst themselves, even attacked one another. Scribe knew members had even been suspended or removed over the centuries. Or simply needed some separation and time to heal. My fingers absentmindedly rubbed over my scar on the opposite hand. Now that Wrath had made my status known, I had taken a similar path. Where would it lead? I wasn’t sure yet.* I came up here looking for others like me, other outcasts. I’d heard there were groups settled north of Caldwell, I figured maybe if I came up this way I would eventually find them. And maybe they’d let me stick around. If none of us are welcome in Caldwell, then maybe we can find a place up here that’s safe. So far I haven’t found much… *I knew I’d never be welcomed at the Chosen Compound, but my mind drifted to the Symphath Colony. Sure, I had been mentally bitch-slapped by whichever one had found me near their borders. But maybe if I went back and asked again… or simply never stopped asking… they’d let me live there. Could a vampire live off of Symphath blood? I honestly didn’t know. It had to be stronger than human blood, right?* I know I can’t stay here. Even if no one is around, this cabin does belong to someone. I will fix it, the furniture and doors, and then I’ll move on. It was just a place to stay out of the sun while I looked for other vampires. Lassiter: <My head was shaking, sending my multi-coloured hair into my eyes as he spoke of seeking out others in the area. Surely he was smarter than that? Surely God wouldn't have stuck me with a charge who really did have a death wish...not even Tohr had been /that/ stupid when it came down to living and dying. I sighed out a long breath and pushed my hair back with both hands before levelling him with a piercing white gaze that left no room to argue.> Dude, that aimless wandering around to find somewhere to belong has already led to me showing up on your doorstep. If I could find you, you best believe any of the brothers could, all they'd have to do was find that lovely Chosen you fed from and she'd locate you through the blood connection. They wouldn't be so forgiving this time and you know it. They’d boot your ass out the door at high noon and think nothing of it. <My fingers tapped my temple while I spoke> Get smarter, please. The Sympath colony isn't too far from here and I can guaran-fucking-tee they won't be welcoming you with open arms unless it's to mind fuck you into insanity. <My frustrations mounted within me and I stood from my chair to pace around the small living room, as I always did when my mind was running through scenarios. I cursed under my breath knowing the rules I had to follow when trying to save a soul, he had to do the work himself and I couldn't give him the answers on how, he had to want it for himself above all else.> Luchas, you belong in Caldwell. It's not safe anywhere around here. Not after crossing the mhis like you did. <pausing in my pacing, I turned toward him and planted my fists at my sides, hoping perhaps the look might beat home the gravity of the situation he was in.> Get your life back together, find something worth living for. Something that doesn't involve wallowing over that damn mark on your hand. It's just a scar, nothing more, and when you start thinking like that rather than feeling sorry for yourself, you’ll be free of the mistakes you've made. Maybe you’ll even find a way to forgive yourself. I’ll do my best to help you along the way but if you truly want your life to be yours again, it's going to take some hard work. Luchas *I could tell there was a lot the angel wasn’t telling me. But I could guess as good as any that this was how it worked. He couldn’t interfere, he could only guide others. This wasn’t a spirit guide to hold my hand and take me on a magical adventure through the forest to get in touch with my soul. Lassiter was more like a distant but loving father. “I gave you the tools you need, figure it out yourself. And if you fail, pick up the pieces and try again until you succeed.” Maybe that’s how the humans felt about their God. Distant… requiring blind faith. I stared up at the glowy, show, f-a-b-u-l-o-u-s winged creature pacing my cabin. He seemed a bit too big a presence to thought of as distant in any way. As if he’d heard my thoughts and felt the need to personify the very God I was considering, he suddenly vanished from the room. I waited a moment to see if he’d return, but all that was left proving he’d ever been here was the rest of my Big Mac and fries. I took another bite, chewing as his words ran through my head. So the Brotherhood had it out for me if I slipped up again. No real surprise there. I know Wrath wanted me to suffer a lifetime of guilt, and so far I’d done a pretty damn good job of sticking to that punishment. But Lassiter wanted me to rebel against that, start a new life, find some purpose. It’s not that I wanted to just waste away up here in this cabin, I really did want to find other vampires to coexist with. Make a few friends, have an acquaintance to offer my blood too in return for some of theirs. I just wanted a simple life. Wasn’t that enough? Apparently to Lassiter, no, it wasn’t. Could I really be destined for more? I had been so sure my first and second act had already been played. Rather than be an old diva hanging around backstage, hanging on to nostalgia like one last aria, I’d left the theater completely. I had been cruel to mine brother Qhuinn in the first set. Paid dearly at the hands of the Lessening Society before joining the Omega himself. What else was there for a male like me? I was of no use to the race anymore. /You belong in Caldwell./ How could that be true if the King banished me? /Find something worth living for./ I looked down at my branded hand. It was like Lassiter wanted me to sign up for the volunteer firefighter department. Maybe scoop some meals at the local soup kitchen. ...Help the humans? I had gotten along well with the males at CHEMLAB. It was easy enough to blend in as long as I was out at night. Feeding would still be a problem, but up here wasn’t any better at the moment. So that was it, then. I’d go back to Caldwell and back to living with humans. And that’s when the cabin’s owner walked through the door. #BigWingsAndBigMacs

[seductivebeaut]

#FeedingDemons With @FeralTormentor

Frankie Loveridge, SeductiveBeaut: {My hands pinned above my head, each blow to my face blurred my vision. This 20 stone man that had me pinned beneath him was kicking my ass, fighting with everything I had, squirming, trying to attempt to shake him off.. how the hell had this happened. I must admit I'd been drowning for a while. My focus off, the darker side of me becoming less satisfied with each hit I did. I could feel the downward spiral taking hold. The next blow that struck was harder than the others combined, or at least that's how it felt as his knuckles bounced off my swelling cheek. But luckily for me the heavy swing threw him off balance, his hand stupidly releasing my wrists to stop himself from falling but it gave me just enough time to slip my hand in my boot, gripping the blade. I think this was the fight or flight moment.. but the second he gave me that opportunity that dark side took a firm hold. Within the blink of an eye I had sliced his throat, his blood spurting over my face just before he collapsed on top of me. 8 days had past since my run in with the big guy. The swelling had gone down and only a yellow bruise remained. My split lip was almost healed too. Finally spotting the car from my position on top of the fire station, I lined up my sight as it pulled up outside the town hall. With a feather light touch, I settle my finger on the trigger. The door opens and my target steps out.. taking in a deep breath, I take my aim, releasing it slowly as I gently squeeze the trigger. This was my second hit of the day and I couldn't stop the satisfied smile that claimed my lips as I watched the target hit the floor. I quickly started to pack away and get on the road, I had another hit in the next town over. 25 days in and all the hits kinda blurred into one.. takedown after takedown. I was averaging around 8 kills a week, and I wanted more.. Viv had set up a steady stream of hits to me. This guy that stood in front of me screamed and begged as I brutally shoved my thumbs into his eyes. Feeling them give under the pressure. Pulling them out wiping the goo on my jeans before I reach for my gun and shoot him between the eyes.. or not anymore.. As his body hit the floor the silence that remained was deafening. I stood over his now lifeless body for a moment.. wondering how long this could go on for.. if i was honest.. I was nowhere near ready to stop.} Stefan Salvatore, FeralTormentor: [If there was one thing I had learned over the expanse of my lifetime then it's that Mystic Falls -- is too small, especially when the flip has been switched. Far too many pesky humans sticking their nose in other people's business, eager to reconnect me with humanity. Buzzkill the lot of them. With my latest dance with the devil, I left town. I'd feed the hunger within me, my demons were inevitable. The only thing there was to do was to give into them. For months I drifted from to town, taking what I wanted, who I wanted. Killing on nothing but a whim. What did I care for the human condition? They were born screaming and I would ensure they would die screaming too. Covering my tracks at times, only to prevent someone from my past tracking my movements. The past was done with, I had no use for any of them anymore. Nights were spent in a blood and liquor induced haze. If the victim drank just the right amount then I'd have the pleasure of tasting it myself while I mercilessly fed. Nobo kills were so artfully pre-planned, I was a hunter, enslaved to my unwavering desire for blood. Drawing the pad of a thumb across my blood stained lower lip, gathering up the last droplets to savour the thrill of my latest kill. Booted feet shuffled silently across the floor, leaving the girls remains in the alley, she had torn just like paper, for some poor soul to find when dawn broke. Each step became more purposeful, there was a name to add to a wall. No sense in hunting any longer, even the stragglers would be fucks up in bed by now. The silence of the night broken by the sound of a struggle, lips pulling back to reveal a sly grin. It seemed there was still fun to be had. Scaling the fire escape of the nearest building, I followed the sound of the struggle, what better way to view a fight than from higher ground. The night sky was clear, leaving the stars overhead visible to all, such a clear night brought a chill to the air, not that such a thing bothered myself. Open palms pressed against the roofs edge, an emerald gaze falling to the blonde bellow, battling a guy who’s stature easily towered over her own. Nasal passengers filled with the scent of blood, his or hers? I didn't know. I didn't care, my only interest here laid at the feet of the victor. Blood filled with adrenaline… Hmm, now that always went down nicely. As the two man war raged on below it was becoming difficult not to appreciate the brutality of the blonde. It spoke to the darkness I held within. A darkness that until now had thrived alone. Thumbs removed the man's ability to see before a single shot rang out, sending him straight to hell. If I was to act on my hunger then now would be the time. Feet however refused to move, to kill such a dark beauty would be a crime, especially when there was fun to be had. Company was something I had lacked for a long time, not yet ready to introduce myself, I tailed the blonde first from the roof and then from the shadows below. I wanted to see just how dark she was willing to go] Frankie Loveridge, SeductiveBeaut: {I finally move, reaching to grab the collar of my latest victim's shirt. I drag his body a few yards and an odd feel creeps in. Releasing his collar. I allow my gaze to scan my surrounding briefly. My bottom lip juts out as I shrug a single shoulder.} You're losing it Frankie. {Securing my grip in this guy's clothing once again I drag the dead weight to my Truck. I'd put the Aston Martin in storage in Ohio I think. It was not practical so I got something that fit a little better. Dropping the tailgate and pulling back the cover. I fight with a bag of muscle and bone until he is in position. Shutting it all back up I jump in the truck and head to the little cabin I intended to crash at, it was literally 15 minutes away. Grabbing a dusty glass off the side I pour myself a large whiskey. Tilting the glass and it's contents down my throat in a couple of gulps. I set the glass on the sable top and hissed, shaking my head as the burn warmed me. Walking towards the door, I pick up a set of overalls and a hacksaw before heading out to the truck. I pause on the dilapidated porch and slide each leg into the overalls and push my arms through the sleeves. Taking the 3 steps off the porch I open the back of the truck and drag the guy off watching as his body slumps against the ground. With the same process, I drag him out back to a tin shack of a garage. After an hour this guy was limbless and I was beat, all I needed to do now was toss the parts onto a fire and then I could pass out before another day of hits. But first the fire. I rub my forehead with the back of my hand and head out, It shouldn't take too long seen as I was smack bang in the middle of small woodlands.} Stefan Salvatore, FeralTormentor: [Seeing the blonde drag the lifeless corpse along behind her was entertaining, clearly she cared for the clean up. Why else go to all that effort. As her svelte physique turned back I stepped further into the shadows where no human vision would ever pick up upon my presence. The tricky part came when she made a beeline for a truck, my own mode of transport a few blocks away, parked outside the place I had claimed as my latest place of residence. A darkened gaze swept out, weighing up my options, finally settling on one of the run down vehicles beside the curb. It would have to do. I waited until the truck and the mysterious blonde was nothing but tail lights before stepping out of the shadows and proceeding to break into the car. The task in itself was simple enough and hot wiring the engine had become child's play for me a long time ago. Tailing the blonde at a safe distance, if she saw me now then the plan I was beginning to build up in my mind would never see it's why to fruition. Pulling the car into one of the hedges at the side of the road I stepped out, deciding it was better to go the rest of the way on foot. Booted feet met the ground silently, shoulders hunched forward while attempting to make myself as inconspicuous as I possibly could. Thick brows rose in mild surprise as I drew up to an old cabin, I wouldn't have pegged the woman as the cabin type] What other secrets are you hiding? [Mumbling to myself. I'd reached the cabin just in time to see the woman drag the body around back. Jogging forward to catch up I found an old building around back. Unable to slip inside without making myself known there was little else for me to do, other than settle outside and listen to what was happening within. Being no stranger to the removal of limbs, although my victims tended to still be alive at this point, it didn't take me long to piece together exactly what was going on. Lips lifted into a sly smile, arms rising to fold at my chest following the approach of footsteps. The door swung outwards, hiding my broad frame from sight. The scent of blood once again making nasal passages its home] Tsk, who's been naughty. [Tone low and husky as the blonde moved past without noticing me. Hikes a brow, my head canting to one side while I await her reaction. My hearing focused in upon her heartbeat. The last thing she would be expecting would be company and mine was sure to be unwelcomed] Frankie Loveridge, SeductiveBeaut: {I made a b-line for the outskirts of the woodland. Only to freeze in place as the low tone meets my ears. My hand slowly moves behind me as I force myself turn towards the voice.} You have no Idea. {My gaze scanning the dark surroundings. A small stream of light that just made out the outline of the figure, I could make out it was a guy, his broad shoulders, prominent in the silhouette the crack of light cast over him. Pulling a small concealed blade from holster attached to my belt, taking a small step towards them.} If you're here to kill me, let's get this over with, I'm a busy girl you know. {My tone was firm and confident, not give away how I really felt, but internally I was thrown off guard, this was a safe house, how on earth did they find it for starters.} Stefan Salvatore, FeralTormentor: [Listening to the way in which her heartbeat picked up, undoubtedly pounding against her rib cage, she’d been running on pure adrenaline for hours now and the effects were wearing off] Oh I have an idea. More of an idea than you realize. [Leisurely footsteps brought me out from the shadows and into what little light the night sky had to offer. It wouldn't be enough for her to see my features clearly but it would be enough to afford her a better picture than the one she had] You intending to gut me Blondie? [Tongues tip, grazing across a lower lip, arms hang in loosely at my sides] Where's the fun in that? Not to mention.. [The sentence trailing off as I took the final step forward, a large hand gripping at the wrist of the hand that held the impressive blade, before she had a chance to react I pulled against her arm forcing her forward until the blade slid into my gut like butter, a small wince my only reaction. For months now I had drunk nothing but human blood, building up not only my strength but my tolerance for pain] ..I'm a lot harder to kill than your friend in there. [Hand released her wrist and returned to my side, while a gaze shifted momentarily to the shack behind me] So, what's it gonna be? Fun or messy? Frankie Loveridge, SeductiveBeaut: {As he spoke he stepped forward and I was on full alert. I almost relaxed when he said about an idea but in my line of work that could mean anything. I stood tall and pushed my shoulders back defensively as he drew closer.} What kind of idea? {With a tilt of my head my curiosity is peaked as my gaze roams over his muscular frame before returning to meet his own.} If you give me a reason too, I won't hesitate. {The confusion was real, was this guy gonna hire me.. kill me.. torture was an option to.} Wait fun? {The second he took that step closer my grip tightens around the hilt, but just as quickly his large hand grasped my wrist. I was about to fight back but he pulled my arm that held the blade, the muscle sliced as he drives it into his torso. I stumble forward and my hand reaches out, gripping his arm to steady myself. Glancing down at the blade then back up at him.} Vampire. I should have known. {His hand move from my wrist, i waste no time in pulling the blade from his torso, my other hand falls from his shoulder. I take a step back and wipe the blood from my blade on my thigh, staining the overalls I had on. I allow a small silence to follow before finally breaking it.} Can't it be both? {My lips curl into a sadistic smile.} I mean it's not fun if you don't get a little messy right? {Turning my back on the stranger, I head towards the woodland to grab the firewood, to finish the job i had started and burn that body.} Stefan Salvatore, FeralTormentor: [Dark pulsating veins webbed out beneath lower lids as incisors lengthen and sharpened, allowing the girl before me to get a look at the monster that lurked just beneath the surface. The self inflicted wound at my abdomen already healed] Mhmm, you really should have. [I hid my mild surprise beneath a toothy grin, it would appear the blonde was more versed in the supernatural than I first would have expected and the chances were if she knew of vampires then she would also know of vervain. Oh well, it all still worked in my favour, there was always more fun to be had when compulsion wasn't at play. Tipping my head forth in an agreeable nod at the last statement, girl had more fire in her than she showed. A trait I could easily show appreciation for, but maybe not just yet... Arms brought once more to cross at my chest, backing up once more into the shadows, blondie had a job to do and I wasn't the type for manual labour, not when I could slip inside the shack to appreciate the handy work of one so young. The game would continue upon her return..] Frankie Loveridge, SeductiveBeaut: {It had taken an hour to gather enough wood to build a fire big enough to burn the body, but it was worth it. Although, the whole time I wondered what idea this vampire had, I saw him continue to lurk the whole time. I mean what did he want with a twisted girl like me.. I’m sue if he wanted me dead, he’d have attempted it or succeeded by now. Heading back inside the shack I stuff the body parts into a sack, dragging it from the shed to just in front of the fire. Once the bonfire was lit and the flames lapped the wood, hungrily and one by one, I threw the mangled chunks of my last victim into the centre of it. The warm, amber glow consuming my concentration. Finally snapping myself from my daze, not quite sure where he had gotten to at this point. So I spoke hoping those keen senses he possessed worked in my favour.} So, idea, huh? I’ll grab the whiskey, and you can tell me more. {Turning on my heel I head back into the cabin for a brief moment to fetch two glasses and a bottle and head back outside to the fire, taking a seat on one of the old tires strewn about the area.} Stefan Salvatore, FeralTormentor: [A hooded gaze followed the retreating figure of the blonde with mild interest, knowing the task she was about to take care of and having little desire to help. Booted feet met the earth below silently, leaving what little light the sky overhead allowed to duck inside the shack. Nasal passages once again assaulted by the stench of blood, the place was filled with it. The interior resembling that of a one man massacre, this woman's style was something to not only be appreciated but also moulded into something greater. With someone such as myself at her side who knew what she could become. A forefinger traced the smooth cut at the neck, neater than any pieces I tended to leave behind. Then again I didn't tend to deal in power tools. Snorting to myself at the image such an idea conjured within the depths of my mind. I had no idea how long I had been appreciating her handy work when the silence was broken by approaching steps and laboured breath. No matter, I simply became one with the shadows of the night again. Leaving the blood soaked shack without her even noticing. Curious as to my location, that was a given, yet if I wanted to watch this mysterious woman who walked a dangerous path then it was best to do so from afar. In truth people such as us tended to work better alone.. at least for a little while. Eyes trailed upon her every move, almost robotic. Her soft features, now lit by the soft glow of the bonfire, were void of emotion. Lips twitched at the mention of liquor. Woman was smart, smart enough to realise I wasn't done with her just yet. Approaching the fire, only once she had disappeared inside the cabin, perching upon one of the upended logs] What would you like to know? [An emerald gaze cast briefly in her direction before returning to the lapping flames once more] Frankie Loveridge SeductiveBeaut {My gaze lost on the flames for a moment, my mind raced with the past few hours. I knew I felt, saw someone earlier, before I met him. I set the bottle firmly between my knees and twist the cap off, my other hand balancing both glasses, placing the cap between my teeth and gripping the bottle securely I fill our glasses.. The whole process repeated as I secure the lid back on the bottle before handing this guy one. I pondered his question as I swirl the liquor around the bottom of the glass before glancing over at him} Everything, I mean.. You must want something from me, I’m alive.. {Glancing down at the glass.} So, I figure you want me alive for a reason. You just watched me pop some guys eyes in and then chop and burn the bastard body. {Finally bringing the glass to parted lips I knock back the liquor.} So.. something tells me, you’re either as twisted as I am, or you just like being all creepy lurker around blondes. {A small twitch of amusement briefly curled my my lips. Blowing out a slow breath as I feel the heat of the whiskey Warm my chest} Why don’t you tell me everything. {There was nothing in my features, no fear, no curiosity. I felt numb, like I had for months now, but there was a twinge that pulled at my insides and that was there is a small chance this guy was similar to me, in some sense. Plus, something told me that this could actually turn out to be an adventure, but I wasn’t going to get ahead of myself. I mean, when did that ever happen. Reaching for the bottle once again, I refill my glass, and offer him another.} I’m Frankie by the way.

[samanthasroberts]

Hunting Bigfoot: 4 Things You Learn Chasing Fiction

I recently moved to a snowier, woodsier part of the world and noticed one day while taking a shortcut home that Bigfoot probably lives near me. There are a lot of trees and foreboding areas that look like the sorts of places in which gentle folk like me are made into the forest brides of beast-men. But how could I know for sure?

If there’s one thing I’m good at it’s finding the worst bar in any given town and making it my own. I easily located this town’s scruffiest bar that featured dead animals mounted on walls, and in no time had found no less than one man who claimed that he had heard from someone several years ago that there was a guy who saw Bigfoot around here once. Hot damn! A solid lead!

On the promise of picking up his bar tab and also returning to the bar later and picking up more of a bar tab, I got this guy to join me on a hunt in the woods. Now, you may be asking, “Felix, did you just pay a drunk stranger to take you into the woods alone?” And to that I say: You forgot that I got him to bring a gun.

This is Dan. He’s loaded with beer and ammunition!

#4. Drinking Outdoors Is Fun

My new friend Dan isn’t the sort of man who appreciates small talk, pop culture, or me. But I bought road beers and we were pretty much set to have an adventure. We drove about 20 minutes out of town to a massive swath of forest that Dan told me had a big lake somewhere in the middle of it and was the place some people said Bigfoot had been spotted. Already it had grown from maybe one guy to some people. I was super psyched.

In preparation for our journey, we packed not just beers but several snacks, an emergency flare (lest Bigfoot abduct us while a helicopter is flying overhead), and outdoorsy crap like a compass, a small hatchet, some matches, and a mickey of whiskey.

I’m not much for hiking but luckily neither is Dan, so we were in the woods for a solid 15 minutes before we stopped to have a drink. Our brew of choice was a fine Canadian ale known as Flying Monkeys Smashbomb Atomic IPA. I bought it solely based on the silly name, but it was actually pretty fantastic and I solidly recommend it for all your Bigfoot-hunting needs.

It’d be better if there were actually monkeys serving it, but other than that, A+.

Dan and I had a good sit in the woods, during which Dan proceeded to tell me about his younger days in a biker gang and a variety of related activities I won’t relate here, because I’m dumb but not that dumb. This was some secret-keeping beer we were having, and Dan may not have been the best tour guide in retrospect, but here we were, in the woods, with a gun. A gun and stories of Dan using a pool cue to destroy an entire room full of men in the most brutal, Deadpool ways possible. I’m glad I met this strange fellow.

Several beers later and Dan and I were having a pretty decent time, still within sight of the road. But alas, this was no joke expedition … or, well, it was, but I was still looking for Bigfoot. We had work to do.

#3. Losing Yourself Is Easier Than Finding Bigfoot

We set out in a direction I will call straight ahead. I know we packed a compass, but it was packed and, honestly, would it have made a difference to know if we were headed north or east? How could it have? We were looking for a legendary man-ape.

Dan told me as we walked that coyote activity in this area has been very much on the rise lately. There’s just a huge population of them. I’ve never seen a coyote outside of a Warner Bros. cartoon and was having a hard time reconciling my image of a cartoon wielding an anvil with an actual wild dog that probably has rabies tearing open my scrotum. Dan assured me they rarely attack humans unless they’re starving or in large groups, then, without missing a beat, added, “Or maybe not.” I almost forgot Dan is not a woodsman, merely a fellow drunk I met at a bar, and I am about as much an expert on what we’re doing as he is.

“I eat a lot of Jack Link’s, though.”

We stumbled upon a number of tracks that could have belonged to Foot, but definitely not Bigfoot, unless I have been grossly misled regarding sizing in this matter. Most were probably squirrels and assorted other woodland turds, but there were definitely some deer tracks as well, and in my mind that was close. The bigger the animal, the closer to Bigfoot. If we found moose tracks we’d be pretty much where we needed to be.

We trudged on through snow-covered underbrush, slightly tipsy and with no clear direction. Dan had brought with him a 20 gauge shotgun, which he said would probably work for taking out Bigfoot if we got him to stand still long enough. I’m no gunsmith and assumed any shotgun was probably good for blowing a Bigfoot’s leg off, until Dan told me this was his rabbit-hunting gun. He had a license only for small game this year, and he wasn’t going to get fined by bringing a higher-powered rifle into the woods when it wasn’t season for hunting something like elk. Dan had no faith in our expedition. Although he did point out that, if we shot Bigfoot with the 20 gauge it’d probably slow him down enough for some photos, so I should be fast with my phone and snap a pic or two. Maybe see if he’s down for a selfie.

#2. Winter Is Stupid

The worst time to do anything is winter time. According to my phone, it was about 4 below zero. For you Celsius types, that’s 20 below. Why the hell would Bigfoot be out in this silly-ass weather? Even bears have the intelligence to hibernate. Bigfoot should be snoozing under a pile of tarps in an old fishing cabin.

There was a brief moment when I encountered a smell that could be best described as unwashed skunk vagina somewhere out in the woods. I heard a rustling in the underbrush, and I thought we might be on to something. For those who doubt the veracity of my claims, I have photo evidence:

Got wood? Ha ha ha! Ha ha! Ahhh …

Like all good photos of Bigfoot, this one mostly requires you to be as drunk as I was when I took it and to have a lot of faith that I know the sight/smell of Bigfoot’s dick when I see it. But for real, do you see that in there? I know it looks like a twig, but I ask you, what do you think Bigfoot’s dick would look like? Probably a big, veiny twig, right?

Before I string you along anymore, I’ll let you know that was a twig. Bigfoot’s dick, even if it is twig-like, is probably attached to a Bigfoot and not a tree like this one was. But did you feel the suspense there for a second? Now you’re living in my world. The world of a Bigfoot hunter!

#1. Bigfoot Is Not Real

Let’s assume for a moment Bigfoot is real, the title of this section notwithstanding. He’s generally considered a “he” right? Not to point out the sex so much as the singular. There’s just one. Bigfoot’s a lone wolf, him and his veiny twig-dick, wandering the woods and stealing forest brides and whatnot. Most Bigfoot sightings have been in Washington state, California, and Oregon. He’s basically a West Coast kind of guy. I’m on the East Coast, so right away my chances are pretty pathetic. Sure, New York and Ohio have some sightings, but so does Russia. Point is, I’m in the wrong neighborhood, and I’m looking for one guy. One big, hairy guy who makes a point of never being found, because no one’s ever found him. Do you know what the odds are of me finding him?

I actually calculated the odds on this for you, in case you’re not good at these complex, veiny equations. Keeping in mind the time of year Bigfoot is most often sighted in these various locations, as well as the time of day and methods used for tracking Bigfoot and the actual odds of me finding him here, at this time, were fuck no. Fuck no I can’t find Bigfoot, because he’s not real.

Consider that humankind has found the coldest natural object in the entire universe, fossils from the first living veiny beasts on Earth, that stupid affluenza kid, and numerous missing plane crashes. If there were a race of hairy man-beasts populating the Pacific Northwest or anywhere else in North America, there would have been some kind of definitive evidence proposed by people who are not named Bubba or Cooter.

Dan and I finished our beers in the woods. We found one track that was probably mine.

Size 11 … ladies. Or guys who want to buy me shoes.

I also found a frozen turd that really made me laugh but the picture turned out pretty blurry due to my laughing as I took the photo. It wasn’t a Bigfoot turd, probably a raccoon or something. Still, that’s hilarious to me.

Dan decided he’d had enough of being in the woods with me, and I couldn’t blame him. I’d mostly wasted our day and provided little to no purpose for our journey other than the laziest attempt ever to discover a cryptozoological legend. Fortunately, that made my attempt just as relevant as anyone else’s, because come on. What would be a “serious” attempt at finding Bigfoot in 2016? Some kind of thermal-imaging drone and satellite tracking? That seems like an expensive prospect for a big fatty waste of time.

Dan called his wife to pick him up once we got back to the road. She seemed like a nice lady who could fight me and win with little effort. Neither of them offered me a ride. As I watched them drive off, I wondered if perhaps Bigfoot was now watching me from the trees and feeling a kinship with me as I, too, was now alone. But of course he wasn’t, because remember, he doesn’t exist. He and that veiny dick I’ve been asked to keep writing about are full-on fiction. No, the only stranger watching me from the woods was a friendly serial killer or public wanker.

I wondered why it is that so many people seem enamored with the idea of Bigfoot. Is it the mystery? The idea that, in a world of smartphones and WiFi and driverless cars, we could have somehow overlooked a man-beast living right under our noses? Possibly. Mostly, I think, it’s what I like to call Dorf Contrarianism. This is the idea that a stupid person will dig in like a tick when confronted with something they feel threatened by, in an intellectual fashion, telling them they’re wrong. The person doing it may not be trying to intimidate our Dorf, or even patronize them or talk down to them in any way, but that is how Dorf perceives it, because Dorf is not smart enough to know why it’s happening but is smart enough to know they’re being corrected. And they don’t like it. So they outwardly refuse it so thoroughly they must embrace the very opposite. They must hunt Bigfoot, simply because he is not real. They must drink that moonshine because it could make them go blind. They must fuck that cousin even if the baby’s going to always be leaning a little to the left. Such is the contrarian nature of Dorf. And that’s what keeps Bigfoot alive.

Check out other mythical monsters of lore and bull crap in 5 Myths That People Don’t Realize Are Admitted Hoaxes, and fear the shelled back of The Beast of Busco in 7 Monsters That Bigfoot Hunters Are Too Scared To Believe In.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel to see why ghosts are definitely real in 6 Most Eerily Convincing Ghost Videos On YouTube – The Spit Take, and watch other videos you won’t see on the site!

Also follow us on Facebook, and see if you can find Bigfoot in the comments. We hear he’s a fan.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/hunting-bigfoot-4-things-you-learn-chasing-fiction/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2018/03/14/hunting-bigfoot-4-things-you-learn-chasing-fiction/

[jimdsmith34]

Hunting Bigfoot: 4 Things You Learn Chasing Fiction

I recently moved to a snowier, woodsier part of the world and noticed one day while taking a shortcut home that Bigfoot probably lives near me. There are a lot of trees and foreboding areas that look like the sorts of places in which gentle folk like me are made into the forest brides of beast-men. But how could I know for sure?

If there’s one thing I’m good at it’s finding the worst bar in any given town and making it my own. I easily located this town’s scruffiest bar that featured dead animals mounted on walls, and in no time had found no less than one man who claimed that he had heard from someone several years ago that there was a guy who saw Bigfoot around here once. Hot damn! A solid lead!

On the promise of picking up his bar tab and also returning to the bar later and picking up more of a bar tab, I got this guy to join me on a hunt in the woods. Now, you may be asking, “Felix, did you just pay a drunk stranger to take you into the woods alone?” And to that I say: You forgot that I got him to bring a gun.

This is Dan. He’s loaded with beer and ammunition!

#4. Drinking Outdoors Is Fun

My new friend Dan isn’t the sort of man who appreciates small talk, pop culture, or me. But I bought road beers and we were pretty much set to have an adventure. We drove about 20 minutes out of town to a massive swath of forest that Dan told me had a big lake somewhere in the middle of it and was the place some people said Bigfoot had been spotted. Already it had grown from maybe one guy to some people. I was super psyched.

In preparation for our journey, we packed not just beers but several snacks, an emergency flare (lest Bigfoot abduct us while a helicopter is flying overhead), and outdoorsy crap like a compass, a small hatchet, some matches, and a mickey of whiskey.

I’m not much for hiking but luckily neither is Dan, so we were in the woods for a solid 15 minutes before we stopped to have a drink. Our brew of choice was a fine Canadian ale known as Flying Monkeys Smashbomb Atomic IPA. I bought it solely based on the silly name, but it was actually pretty fantastic and I solidly recommend it for all your Bigfoot-hunting needs.

It’d be better if there were actually monkeys serving it, but other than that, A+.

Dan and I had a good sit in the woods, during which Dan proceeded to tell me about his younger days in a biker gang and a variety of related activities I won’t relate here, because I’m dumb but not that dumb. This was some secret-keeping beer we were having, and Dan may not have been the best tour guide in retrospect, but here we were, in the woods, with a gun. A gun and stories of Dan using a pool cue to destroy an entire room full of men in the most brutal, Deadpool ways possible. I’m glad I met this strange fellow.

Several beers later and Dan and I were having a pretty decent time, still within sight of the road. But alas, this was no joke expedition … or, well, it was, but I was still looking for Bigfoot. We had work to do.

#3. Losing Yourself Is Easier Than Finding Bigfoot

We set out in a direction I will call straight ahead. I know we packed a compass, but it was packed and, honestly, would it have made a difference to know if we were headed north or east? How could it have? We were looking for a legendary man-ape.

Dan told me as we walked that coyote activity in this area has been very much on the rise lately. There’s just a huge population of them. I’ve never seen a coyote outside of a Warner Bros. cartoon and was having a hard time reconciling my image of a cartoon wielding an anvil with an actual wild dog that probably has rabies tearing open my scrotum. Dan assured me they rarely attack humans unless they’re starving or in large groups, then, without missing a beat, added, “Or maybe not.” I almost forgot Dan is not a woodsman, merely a fellow drunk I met at a bar, and I am about as much an expert on what we’re doing as he is.

“I eat a lot of Jack Link’s, though.”

We stumbled upon a number of tracks that could have belonged to Foot, but definitely not Bigfoot, unless I have been grossly misled regarding sizing in this matter. Most were probably squirrels and assorted other woodland turds, but there were definitely some deer tracks as well, and in my mind that was close. The bigger the animal, the closer to Bigfoot. If we found moose tracks we’d be pretty much where we needed to be.

We trudged on through snow-covered underbrush, slightly tipsy and with no clear direction. Dan had brought with him a 20 gauge shotgun, which he said would probably work for taking out Bigfoot if we got him to stand still long enough. I’m no gunsmith and assumed any shotgun was probably good for blowing a Bigfoot’s leg off, until Dan told me this was his rabbit-hunting gun. He had a license only for small game this year, and he wasn’t going to get fined by bringing a higher-powered rifle into the woods when it wasn’t season for hunting something like elk. Dan had no faith in our expedition. Although he did point out that, if we shot Bigfoot with the 20 gauge it’d probably slow him down enough for some photos, so I should be fast with my phone and snap a pic or two. Maybe see if he’s down for a selfie.

#2. Winter Is Stupid

The worst time to do anything is winter time. According to my phone, it was about 4 below zero. For you Celsius types, that’s 20 below. Why the hell would Bigfoot be out in this silly-ass weather? Even bears have the intelligence to hibernate. Bigfoot should be snoozing under a pile of tarps in an old fishing cabin.

There was a brief moment when I encountered a smell that could be best described as unwashed skunk vagina somewhere out in the woods. I heard a rustling in the underbrush, and I thought we might be on to something. For those who doubt the veracity of my claims, I have photo evidence:

Got wood? Ha ha ha! Ha ha! Ahhh …

Like all good photos of Bigfoot, this one mostly requires you to be as drunk as I was when I took it and to have a lot of faith that I know the sight/smell of Bigfoot’s dick when I see it. But for real, do you see that in there? I know it looks like a twig, but I ask you, what do you think Bigfoot’s dick would look like? Probably a big, veiny twig, right?

Before I string you along anymore, I’ll let you know that was a twig. Bigfoot’s dick, even if it is twig-like, is probably attached to a Bigfoot and not a tree like this one was. But did you feel the suspense there for a second? Now you’re living in my world. The world of a Bigfoot hunter!

#1. Bigfoot Is Not Real

Let’s assume for a moment Bigfoot is real, the title of this section notwithstanding. He’s generally considered a “he” right? Not to point out the sex so much as the singular. There’s just one. Bigfoot’s a lone wolf, him and his veiny twig-dick, wandering the woods and stealing forest brides and whatnot. Most Bigfoot sightings have been in Washington state, California, and Oregon. He’s basically a West Coast kind of guy. I’m on the East Coast, so right away my chances are pretty pathetic. Sure, New York and Ohio have some sightings, but so does Russia. Point is, I’m in the wrong neighborhood, and I’m looking for one guy. One big, hairy guy who makes a point of never being found, because no one’s ever found him. Do you know what the odds are of me finding him?

I actually calculated the odds on this for you, in case you’re not good at these complex, veiny equations. Keeping in mind the time of year Bigfoot is most often sighted in these various locations, as well as the time of day and methods used for tracking Bigfoot and the actual odds of me finding him here, at this time, were fuck no. Fuck no I can’t find Bigfoot, because he’s not real.

Consider that humankind has found the coldest natural object in the entire universe, fossils from the first living veiny beasts on Earth, that stupid affluenza kid, and numerous missing plane crashes. If there were a race of hairy man-beasts populating the Pacific Northwest or anywhere else in North America, there would have been some kind of definitive evidence proposed by people who are not named Bubba or Cooter.

Dan and I finished our beers in the woods. We found one track that was probably mine.

Size 11 … ladies. Or guys who want to buy me shoes.

I also found a frozen turd that really made me laugh but the picture turned out pretty blurry due to my laughing as I took the photo. It wasn’t a Bigfoot turd, probably a raccoon or something. Still, that’s hilarious to me.

Dan decided he’d had enough of being in the woods with me, and I couldn’t blame him. I’d mostly wasted our day and provided little to no purpose for our journey other than the laziest attempt ever to discover a cryptozoological legend. Fortunately, that made my attempt just as relevant as anyone else’s, because come on. What would be a “serious” attempt at finding Bigfoot in 2016? Some kind of thermal-imaging drone and satellite tracking? That seems like an expensive prospect for a big fatty waste of time.

Dan called his wife to pick him up once we got back to the road. She seemed like a nice lady who could fight me and win with little effort. Neither of them offered me a ride. As I watched them drive off, I wondered if perhaps Bigfoot was now watching me from the trees and feeling a kinship with me as I, too, was now alone. But of course he wasn’t, because remember, he doesn’t exist. He and that veiny dick I’ve been asked to keep writing about are full-on fiction. No, the only stranger watching me from the woods was a friendly serial killer or public wanker.

I wondered why it is that so many people seem enamored with the idea of Bigfoot. Is it the mystery? The idea that, in a world of smartphones and WiFi and driverless cars, we could have somehow overlooked a man-beast living right under our noses? Possibly. Mostly, I think, it’s what I like to call Dorf Contrarianism. This is the idea that a stupid person will dig in like a tick when confronted with something they feel threatened by, in an intellectual fashion, telling them they’re wrong. The person doing it may not be trying to intimidate our Dorf, or even patronize them or talk down to them in any way, but that is how Dorf perceives it, because Dorf is not smart enough to know why it’s happening but is smart enough to know they’re being corrected. And they don’t like it. So they outwardly refuse it so thoroughly they must embrace the very opposite. They must hunt Bigfoot, simply because he is not real. They must drink that moonshine because it could make them go blind. They must fuck that cousin even if the baby’s going to always be leaning a little to the left. Such is the contrarian nature of Dorf. And that’s what keeps Bigfoot alive.

Check out other mythical monsters of lore and bull crap in 5 Myths That People Don’t Realize Are Admitted Hoaxes, and fear the shelled back of The Beast of Busco in 7 Monsters That Bigfoot Hunters Are Too Scared To Believe In.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel to see why ghosts are definitely real in 6 Most Eerily Convincing Ghost Videos On YouTube – The Spit Take, and watch other videos you won’t see on the site!

Also follow us on Facebook, and see if you can find Bigfoot in the comments. We hear he’s a fan.

source http://allofbeer.com/hunting-bigfoot-4-things-you-learn-chasing-fiction/ from All of Beer http://allofbeer.blogspot.com/2018/03/hunting-bigfoot-4-things-you-learn.html