#THIS WAS A FIRST LIKE SIR........... THIS IS NOT WEST VIRGINIA PLEASE

[buckttommy]

every time someone casually assumes my brother and i are dating/married, an angel (me) dies

#the hotel concierge was like 'you two crazy kids enjoy your night ;) let us know if you need anything' #like sir i bought two bags of popcorn what abt that makes you think i'm going to do anything but stuff my face and cry myself to sleep lmfao #IT NEVER GETS ANY LESS DISGUSTING BUT SOMEHOW THIS WAS WORSE #THIS WAS A FIRST LIKE SIR........... THIS IS NOT WEST VIRGINIA PLEASE #jack.txt

[mrs-gucci]

There seems to be a darker, more violent take on Clyde floating around right now and I LOVE it!! I’m working on one for him too!

Since you say open for darker requests, I’d love to hear your take on a more violent Clyde! He could be saving you from a stalker. Clyde can show him what a real bad ass can do and then show you how well he can treat you too lol! He could be protecting you from someone at the bar. He could be showing you his special forces skills after some gets aggressive. You name it lol!

Secrets of the Blood Moon {werewolf!Clyde x Reader darkfic}

author's notes: helloooo! my friend shannon, thank you for this request!! I am also a fan of the darker take on Clyde and I hope I did it some justice!! I worked really, really hard on this one, and I’m super pleased with how it turned out.

**PLEASE HEED THE DARKFIC WARNING!! THIS FIC INVOLVES SEVERAL VERY HEAVY AND VERY DARK THEMES, SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!**

warnings: angst. smut. hurt/comfort. a minor car crash. mentions of alcohol consumption. rut. knotting. breeding kink. werewolf stuff. attempted mating bite. murder coverup. clyde feels guilty.

tw's: noncon touching (not by clyde). involuntary attempted sexual assault (werewolf clyde pins her down & dry humps w/o consent, but human clyde doesn’t know he did it nor would ever intend to do it). blood & gore. graphic depictions of murder and violence. human-hunting. depictions of human body consumption (is it cannibalism if he’s technically a wolf when it happens?). werewolf sex.

**this is a work of FICTION. the author does not attempt to condone the actions/behaviors of the characters written.**

word count: 5.9k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​ ​@gildedstarlight (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

Last Night

Stepping out of your car, you’re instantly suffocated by the thick humidity of the West Virginia evening. The sun paints cotton candy across the sky as it sets behind the trees on the mountainous horizon, the almost full moon hot on its tail, slowly rising on the other side of the sky.

The blood moon comes tomorrow, and from the old folk tales your mom used to tell about the deep West Virginia countryside, some weird shit goes down under the crimson moon. You never really believed her. What all could happen in lil ol’ Boone County, anyway?

The moment you step into the refreshing, air-conditioned Duck Tape, you’re immediately greeted by a loud call of your name.

“Y/N!” You smile and wave at Jimmy. 

Clyde looks up and smiles at you as you come and sit down at the bar next to Jimmy. He serves the customer before coming over to talk with you and the eldest Logan.

You lean over the bar to give him a kiss, earning a couple hoots and hollers from the bar crowd, which made you both laugh as you pull away.

“How was work, buttercup?” He asks, wiping off some glasses. “Weren’t ya doin’ that one presentation today? How’d that go?”

You’re always so flattered that Clyde actually pays attention when you talk about work stuff. Most guys just smile and nod, but Clyde actually listens and remembers. He even remembered your one year anniversary at the company you currently work for, sending you takeout from your favorite place along with some flowers.

“Yeah, it was alright. Boring as hell, but the partners seemed pleased, so that’s all I can really ask for at this point.”

Both he a Jimmy give a small chuckle, nodding before Clyde mixes your favorite drink, setting it down in front of you a few minutes later. You thank him, and the three-way conversation continues before the bar door swings open. 

Something about the man’s entrance makes you look over, already smelling trouble as he steps over the threshold. His eyes are glued on you, a smug smirk etched on his expression. 

A hush falls over the patrons for a few seconds, all eyes on the leather-clad man. Clyde’s hackles are immediately up, body tense as the mystery man saunters over, plopping himself down onto the vacant stool next to yours. 

Things on the floor continue as normal, the chatter picking back up, and you subtly scoot a little closer to Jimmy. 

“Bartender?” A thick New York accent calls.

Clyde walks over, plastering a fake smile on his face, seemingly the epitome of southern hospitality.

“What can I getcha, sir?”

The man gives Clyde a once-over and snickers. “No, seriously, where’s the bartender? I’d like a drink.”

Your grip clenches around your glass. You absolutely hated it when people were dicks about Clyde’s hand.

“Seriously, I am the bartender.” He states firmly. “So, what can I get ya?”

His tone sends a chill down your spine. Normally, Clyde just shuts down whenever someone starts poking fun at his missing hand, but tonight, there was a certain air of frustration, of dominance.

You just thought he’d finally cracked, after years of dealing with this bullshit. But as you would learn, there was an alternate explanation for his sudden outwardly alpha-like behavior.

The guy seems to back off a little bit, just asking for a cold Coors straight from the bottle. You startle a bit when Clyde slams the bottle down on the counter in front of him, and you could swear his eyes turn a light grey for a second before returning to the dark brown pools you’re familiar with.

Everything’s quiet for a little while, the man sipping his beer in silence, before he turns to you. He doesn’t say anything at first, simply allowing his eyes to drink in your seated figure.

“What’s your name, baby girl?” The beer smell of his breath is strong as he leans in. “You lookin’ for someone to keep you company tonight?”

You roll your eyes. Douchebag. “Nope. I’m perfectly content just sitting here, thanks.”

Clyde’s watching the interaction like a hawk as he makes someone’s drink. It’s a wonder he can concentrate on the drink when his thoughts and eyes are glued to you.

His slimy hand touches down on your bare thigh, just above your knee, and you jump in your seat. He grins, trailing it up as he leans in even closer.

“Are you sure? I could show you a real good time...”

Glass shatters from behind the bar and then, Clyde’s grabbing the man by his biker jacket, tossing him onto the floor with an almost superhuman strength. You stand up, appalled, as the man on the hardwood scrambles to get up.

An icy grey begins to frost over his sweet chocolate irises as Clyde clenches his fists by his side. 

“Don’t ya dare touch ma girl, ye pervert.” He growls, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “Someone ought to show ya what respect looks like.”

The bar has fallen pin-drop silent, all sets of eyes focused in on the developing scene. He cocks his fist above his head, snarling as he readies to pounce on the helpless man. 

It’s then that Jimmy hops up and puts himself between the two men, holding his hands up in front of Clyde. “Don’t do this t’ yerself. Ye know what’ll happen if ya do.”

This seems to bring him back, the warmness flooding back to his irises. His shoulders slump as he huffs softly, pushing past his older brother angrily, storming into his office and slamming the door behind him.

Shakily, the man stands and puts a twenty down on the table before running out of the bar, bell jingling against the wooden door as it eases shut after him.

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The rare blood moon hangs in its place against the pitch black sky as you pull up to the Logan’s trailer home. There aren’t any stars in the clear night’s sky, despite it being the dead of summer, but you don’t think much of it as you approach the shadowed porch.

Moths flutter around the dimly flickering porch light while you peek through the windows, which were as black as the night. Not a single light was on.

Odd. The Pontiac’s parked in its normal spot outside.

You flip the threadbare ‘welcome’ mat up, revealing the rusting gold key beneath. Sticking it in the lock, you turn until the door pops open, an eerie creak accompanying it.

"Clyde?” You say, looking around the trailer’s living room as you flip the living room lights on.

You call for him again. Maybe he’s just taking a nap. “Clyde?”

Still no response. 

Now, you’re getting worried. There’s no note, nothing noticeably out of place; in fact, it’s almost all too still. It gives you the creeps, how still and quiet it is in here.

The scent of suspicion thickens the air around you, and you just get the most awful feeling in your gut that something bad is happening or is about to happen.

Adrenaline begins to pump through your veins as you quickly walk around, peeking in the kitchen, and in the spare room. The air seems to thicken again the closer to draw to Clyde’s room, and you push the door open with bated breath.

You’re absolutely mortified at the sight before you. 

Shreds of carpet, fabric, and mattress stuffing is scattered the floor, and giant claw marks have torn straight through the drywall. The blankets and comforter, at least the remains of them, are disheveled where they lay across the clawed-up mattress. 

His vanity mirror is almost fully shattered, and the products that once sat atop are now tossed across the floor. The chilly summer’s night air flutters the curtains on the opened window above the bed.

The first thought that comes to mind is a bear attack of some kind. Now fully freaking out, you’re wondering how in the world a bear got into the trailer, and why it only seemed to attack Clyde’s room. You scramble to grab your phone from your purse with shaky hands, dialing Jimmy’s number in haste.

Was this one of the blood moon enigmas mom warned about? No, no, bear attacks are pretty common around here.

 It takes a few rings before he picks up.

“Y/N?” He sounds out of breath, exhausted.

“Jimmy, hey. Do you know where Clyde is? I’m at the trailer, and--”

Something that sounds like a growl rips through the speaker, followed by a woman’s voice. 

“Is everything oka--”

“Mellie, I can’t help ya right now! I’ll be there in a second!” He yells in the background. “Sorry Y/N, you were sayin’ somethin’?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m just at the trailer, and I peeked into Clyde’s room...”

“Ya didn’t touch anything, did ya?” His voice is rushed.

You shake your head, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, no, but--”

The growl comes again, louder this time, and it almost sounds like it’s...a voice. A very deep and very animalistic one, but a voice nonetheless. And it was saying something, although you couldn’t really hear clearly enough.

“Jimmy, do you know where Clyde is?” You’re getting a little impatient.

“Don’t worry ‘bout Clyde, he’s okay, he’s, uhh, here with us.”

“Oh, uh, o-okay.”

But tonight was supposed to be your special night together.

“Y/N? Listen real close, now. I need ya to get outta the trailer and go home, right now. Don’t linger, and refrain from touchin’ anything in the trailer. Lock all yer doors n’ close all the windows when ya get back home, okay? ‘N don’t go outside for the rest’a the night.”

Okay, now you’re starting to get fearful. “What--”

“Jimmy!” Mellie’s panicked voice comes through the phone speaker again, this time a bit clearer. He curses under his breath.

Her cries clearly rattled the eldest Logan, and he quickly tells you to just do what he said and then hangs up in a frantic state. 

You’re frozen for a moment, but then you quickly scurry outside to your car, frantically looking around as you scramble to fit the key in the driver’s side door.  By some miracle, you hold your hand steady enough to unlock it, quickly shutting the door and turning on the engine, peeling out of there like a madwoman.

Suddenly, as you go to pull out of the driveway, a strange apparition appears at the edge of the wood across the street. You squint, trying to figure out what the hell it is. Whatever it is, though, it’s panting heavily and looks...inhuman.

It’s standing on two legs, but its large, probably almost seven feet tall if you had to guess, and must’ve had some type of black fur or skin since it almost blends in with the darkened forest.

The reddish light of the moon is the only light that reflects upon this mystery creature, before it seems to notice your car idling in the driveway. The crisp light grey pupils seemingly glimpse into your soul as the creature looks upon you.

Clearly, now, you can decipher what exactly it is, although you’re in utter shock and skeptical to think it real: A werewolf.

You quickly put the car in reverse, slamming down on the gas, flying backwards for a few seconds before colliding with the trailer’s tin wall. Your head slams forward onto the steering wheel, trickles of blood dribble down your forehead and nose as your consciousness is lost.

When you come to, only a few minutes later, you groan as the welt forms on your forehead. You look around, groggily, seeing that your car is in drive but isn’t moving. Surely when you’d passed out, your foot would’ve come off the brake and you would’ve rolled away...

Stepping out carefully, you find that some bricks have been placed in front of all four tires, effectively keeping the car at a dead standstill. 

Who in the world did this?

Then, you turn your head and walk slowly around to the front of your car, seeing the remnants of sharp teeth marks on your bumper. You’re frozen, a lump slowly crawling up your throat as the realization hits. 

A low growl comes from behind you, and your worst fears have suddenly been realized. You slowly, carefully spin around on your heels, afraid that one wrong move may make you tonight’s surprise entree.

Your eyes meet the soul-piercing grey’s of the werewolf, the one you’d seen at the edge of the forest minutes earlier. The one that seemingly saved your life, but...how did a werewolf know what to do?

As you continue to gaze at the large being before you, you’re struck with a sense of familiarity, almost as if you’d met them before. Strange, because you can’t recall ever encountering a werewolf. Hell, you’ve never even seen a wolf before, other than in pictures. Surely you’d remember coming into contact with a seemingly impossible biological phenomenon such as this one.

His presence is scarily comforting, and you find yourself briefly wondering what it’d feel like to be enveloped in his woolen arms. Well, arm, technically speaking. This particular werewolf seems to be missing the lower half of his left paw.

Then, your mind connects the dots, and you’re shocked to your very core. It wasn’t a bear that attacked Clyde’s room, it was Clyde. This werewolf that’s standing before you is Clyde. That’s why Jimmy and Mellie sounded so frantic and breathless on the phone; they must’ve been trying to keep him contained.

But why? Werewolves usually recognize the important people in their human lives...right? That’s why he’d saved you from rolling off...

Your headlights’ reflection was speared by your figure, creating a shadow that covered most of Clyde’s form, except for the very tips of his paws, which had enormous claws emerging from beneath the thick layer of fur.

“Clyde?” You whisper, and he seems to soften for a moment, falling down on all threes.

Just as you swallow the lump in your throat and begin to cautiously approach the creature, hand outstretched to allow him to smell you, his eyes suddenly darken, the once snowy grey now more like the color of storm clouds. 

He snarls, white teeth shining in the moon’s moody crimson-tinted reflection, and you immediately backtrack. Oh god, I’m fucked.

Your bottom collides with the front of your car, the engine thrumming lowly as it idles happily, grille warm from the machine inside. The headlights are now fully shining on the creature, fur shining under the bright lights as he approaches, lines of drool strung between his sharp fangs. 

“C-Clyde, please,” You plead with the creature. “It’s m-me, Y/N, your g-girlfriend. You know m-me, you don’t w-wanna do t-this...”

It doesn’t seem to do much to dissuade him, the animal within now overshadowing the kind, gentle man you know and love. No, this creature is something else. This isn’t your Clyde.

The wolf stops short of the hood, where you’ve crawled up onto and are laying back, raising his nose up in the air, sniffing. You’re perplexed by this action, but it becomes evident when his ear prick and he says, in that same deep, animalistic voice that was in the background of your call with Jimmy, 

“Mate.”

And then, he’s pouncing, trapping your hands above your head with his one arm while his legs scramble to find a good grip on the metallic surface of the car, hips rutting frantically. 

His muzzle dips down, wet nose running along your jawline and neck, teeth scraping dangerously against your thin skin. He quickly settles on a spot behind your ear, growling as his pink tongue darts out to begin lapping at the spot. 

You’re completely still, both physically restrained and unable to bring yourself to even try to move as the creature drags his fangs across the skin behind your ear. Your car is rocking back and forth with his hips’ violent movements, dragging his enormous cock against your lower stomach. 

He pants into your ear, breath hot as he prepares to sink his sharp fangs into your tender skin, marking you as his forever...

“CLYDE!”

Jimmy’s voice pierces through the still of the night. Crickets stop chirping for a moment, and Clyde’s body stills. His head whips around, snarling at his brother.

Mellie’s right behind him, and she peers around him, trying to look at you. “Y/N, are ya alright?”

“YYYeah,” You manage, somehow. “I-I’m o-okay.”

Clyde hops down, all three feet planted on the ground, hackles up as Jimmy takes a step forward. “Mate.”

“She ain’t yer mate.” Jimmy says, calmly. He points to you. “Look at whatcha done to ‘er, Clyde. Would a mate look like that, huh? Look at ‘er, Clyde, she’s all beat up and scared outta her damn mind.”

The wolf visibly stands down, slowly turning his head to look back at you, seeing the scratches on your wrists and the marks on your neck. He sees the bit of wetness on your shirt and shorts, from his slick.

He hangs his head and begins to cry, whimpering and whining as he sprints off, surprisingly agile and quick for a wolf with three paws, across the road and back into the woods.

His blood’s boiling, he’s angry that he couldn’t defend you against Jimmy, mad that his alpha instincts had failed him. Even as a werewolf, one of the most powerful beings in the forest, he was still weaker than and overshadowed by his showboat older brother. 

Loud barks of anger rip through him as he masterfully maneuvers through the forest, weaving through the trees, dodging thorns, leaping over the fallen tree trunks. 

The sky suddenly begins to empty down onto Earth, the cool summer night’s rain a welcomed refreshment on Clyde’s fur. He looks up at the blood moon, huffing softly as he silently curses the orb for bringing this condition to him each full moon, as he did every single moon before this, and will continue to do with every one after.

He reaches his cave a few minutes later, stopping dead in his tracks when he smells smoke coming from inside. He’s on high alert, now, as he moves to peek into the cavern.

There, he finds a lone man sitting by a very small fire, rubbing his hands together over the heat. He’s clad in head-to-toe tree camo with a shotgun laying just out of arms reach.

This man’s scent feels awfully familiar, Clyde thinks, but it takes him a minute to figure out why. And, when he does remember, Clyde is suddenly not so sympathetic for the unwanted visitor in his cave.

The wolf’s mind falls to a certain memory from last night at Duck Tape. This is the jackass that thought he could get away with feelin’ you up. The one that poked plenty ‘a fun at his missing hand. 

Clyde’s still-hard cock presses up against his furry stomach in excitement, tongue licking over his razor-sharp fangs. He couldn’t protect or avenge you last night, again due to Jimmy, but maybe he can now. 

Jimmy ain’t gonna get in my way this time ‘round.

He can’t just come running into the entrance, no, that allows him too much time to grab the gun. He thinks, and thinks, until he remembers the connecting cave that he’d recently found on the last full moon. He bets he can get in there and creep up behind the man, do a sneak attack. 

He’s salivating in anticipation as he bounds down to the opposite side of the cave, paws padding lightly against the soft gravelly dirt floor, trotting along carefully.

The man is none the wiser to the wolf’s presence, and the hum of the loud rain certainly wasn’t hurting. A loud crack of thunder suddenly rips through the forest, vibrating the ground. Clyde freezes briefly as the young man curls up further, chin resting in the gap between his knees. 

Predatory instincts pumping through his veins at an all-time high, he crouches down as he stalks closer and closer to the unsuspecting body by the small fire. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, now right behind the man, moving in slow motion so as to not alert his victim.

When the time is right, just as the next clap of thunder rumbles the rocks, Clyde pounces. He grabs the man’s shirt, dragging him out of the cave with an unprecedented swiftness. The fire is extinguished with the tussle, leaving the cave shrouded in darkness, the shotgun laid abandoned on the ground where he’d put it.

He struggles against the wolf’s grip, fabric ripping violently the further his body’s dragged along. Clyde throws him out onto the forest floor, pawing at the ground like a wild stallion as the disheveled man scrambles to his feet.

His hands are shaky as he holds them up in front of him, as if trying to calm the creature like a domesticated dog.  “E-Easy, easy.”

If he could, Clyde would’ve rolled his eyes at the man’s pathetic attempt to talk down at him. He snarls, watching in amusement at the way he startles and stumbles back. 

Clyde’s got the man backed against the trunk of an old oak within seconds, and he stands up on two legs, glaring at the much smaller figure. He bares his teeth, a wolf’s version of a devilish grin.

“Run.”

It seems like the man is caught in between being shocked that this wolf just spoke English and being chilled to the core by his word. He sputters for a moment, brain smoking as it churns on overdrive, before his legs carry him as quickly as they can down the mountainside. 

The wolf casually trots along after him, in very little rush to catch him. He’s throbbing hard now, the excitement translating into pure arousal. Clyde knows these woods like the back of his hand; there’s no where for this man to hide from his inevitable fate as the wolf-man’s next meal.

His head continuously whips around, meeting the grayish-white orbs tucked behind a thick coat of jet black fur. In a frenzy, he tucks himself behind a large tree, catching his breath.

Twigs snap in seemingly all directions, his breath heavy as his eyes flicker all around the dark, damp wood, the only light coming from the crimson-tinted orb above. He reaches back and wraps his arms around the tree’s trunk, panicked.

A low growl rattles his eardrums and he looks to the side, seeing the black creature right at his side. Clyde’s head snaps to the side, looking directly at his victim.

Crying out in fear, the man leaps forward to make a run for it, but is quickly taken to the dirt by the wolfish creature. The man squirms and screams out for mercy, for God, and Clyde knows what he has to do now.

He quickly sinks his teeth into the back of the mans neck repeatedly, effectively severing the spinal cord, leaving the man completely limp and defenseless. A quick and effective manner of disabling a victim, he’s learned through hunting animals, but keeps him just alive enough to see what’s being done to him. 

Clyde flips the limp form over, now on his back, and his eyes are wide as he watches the wolf above him, black fur now stained red around the mouth, stare down at him with a hungry gaze.

His mouth opens, probably to beg for his life, but it’s too late. Fangs sink through his shirt and into the flesh of his chest, just above where his rapidly beating heart lay.

The thump-thump rhythm slows, then stops, the life leaving his body. Sweet copper tang coats the wolf’s tongue as the body is drained of its remaining energy. 

There is little feeling better than watching the life slowly and steadily drain from the eyes of a victim, and suddenly, Clyde’s throbbing arousal has reached an almost unmanageable point.

But, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to devour his freshly-caught prey, especially while it’s still warm. So he digs in immediately, carving further into the hole over the heart he’d already created, ripping out the vital organ.

He holds it triumphantly between his teeth for a moment before setting it aside. His craving is more for the meat, he’s never been much of a fan of organs, so he gets to work separating the good meat from the corpse.

Once he’s done, he lifts his nose in the air, howling loudly. He’s never been this hard before, he swears it, and there’s only one person that can satisfy this urge:

You.

For a wolf on three legs, he reaches your house in record time. He can already feel the wolf-ness fading steadily, the human beginning to peek through the cracks. But, his rut doesn’t give at all, and he bounds up the steps and scratches at your door.

You’re startled by the noise, already a gut feeling you know who it is. When you open the door, Clyde’s wolf figure is sitting politely on your doormat.  Should you let him in?

He pushes past, whimpering as he does so, before you can make a decision. You shut the door slowly before turning around to face the creature. He seems a bit different than when you saw him earlier, seeming a bit more human.

You stand against the door, back pressed up against it, looking down at the wolf in your living room. 

“Y/N.” He breathes, huskily, attempting to ignore the hardness pressing up against his wooly stomach. “N-Need you. Please.”

He’s ashamed as he stands up on his hind legs, wrapping a clawed hand around his oozing cock, jutting his hips out as if to show off for you. The alpha in him needs to show you how suitable of a mate he is, what strong pups he can give you.

“It hhhhurts, b-buttercup.”

The battle going on inside him, animal versus human, is painfully evident on his expression. Your hearts been ripped in half as you watch him struggle with himself, the human trying to overpower the animal, and the animal trying to fight off the human.  He doesn’t even know what he did to you earlier. 

“What do you need from me, Clyde? I’m here to help you, honey, I’ll do whatever you need.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but its quickly replaced by a look of what can only be described as pure, primal hunger.

“Floor. A-All fours.” The wolf-man manages, desperately humping his hand to offer some relief. “G-Get the lube, ffffuuuck, I mmuhhmight hurt ya without it.”

You rush to get the lube, placing the tube next to you as you pull your leggings down, exposing your bare cunt. Clyde watches with an eager anticipation as you spread yourself for him. 

As soon as you’re into position, he practically falls over on top of you, hips rutting uncontrollably as he smoothes lube over his drooling cock and lines up with your entrance. 

“B-Buttercup, I...I’m sssorry ‘bout what’s ggon’ happen. This ain’t me, ppuhpplease remember that, mmkay?”

You nod, tearing up at the pure agony in his voice. “I w-will, Clyde.”

His hips shove forward, a choked howl escaping his lips, balls tightening. You cry out, the burn of your walls stretching to accommodate his girthy length more prominent than usual.

Veins bulge out of his neck, jaw clenched as he begins moving, mercilessly plowing into you from behind. He plants his clawed hand next to yours, loud and desperate scratching noises accompanying the wet squelch of your joined torsos. 

The carpet is shredded, hardwood floor scratched permanently by his feet as he humps you with a desperation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. This really wasn’t Clyde, but you soon realized that you exactly mind this side of Clyde, this primal instinct, this roughness. It was arousing, bittersweetly so.

When you look over your shoulder at the wooly mass moving behind you, your eyes widen. You didn’t notice the shiny substance from a distance, but now that he’s up close, you see that it coats his snout and has even dripped down onto his breast.

A gripping fear bubbles in your stomach. But then, you rationalize immediately, before you find yourself too deep down in this rabbit hole of worry. He probably just hunted a deer or a rabbit or something. He’s a fucking wolf, remember?

You almost sigh out loud in relief, but you keep it in, instead moaning along with each of his thrusts.

“D-Did ya like muhmmahhmm--ma w-wolf cock?” He asks. 

You nod. “Y-Yeah, ohhh god, I liked it.”

“Gonna gguh-give ya real nice p-pups.” His muzzle rubs over the spot behind your ear, the same one that he’d been after earlier, smearing some of the crimson across your skin. He licks it with as much consistency as possible, considering the speed and intensity of his hips. “F-Fill ya u-up, knot ya gggood ‘n deep.”

You’re almost positive he’s talking pretty much nonsense at this point, his rut brain having completely taken over. You know you’re not gonna cum, but it doesn’t really matter; you’re doing this for him, after all.

“Oh g-god, I’m cummin’, I’m gonna--”

He pauses his hips, howling softly as he cums. But this time, something else begins to swell, and you cry out as it does so. 

“M-Ma k-knot,” Clyde breathes in explanation. “Keeps it a-all inside y-ya.”

You nod, not really knowing what all he’s talking about but not really caring for an explanation right now. 

“‘m gonna h-havta stay inside y-ya fer a lil while. S-Should be ‘b-bout 30 minutes or so.”

His tongue begins moving over your cheeks and neck, something that makes you smile, that helps you remember that your beloved boyfriend’s in there somewhere.

The half hour waiting period passes, and as much as you’ve loved snuggling with your boyfriend (who’s wolf counterpart is relatively cuddly, despite previous reservations), you’re happy to have him off you.

After wishing you a final goodbye, citing the need to ‘clean up his cave a bit’, he trotted back out the door and galloped like a madman (wolf?) back out into the shadowed wood, leaving you alone once more.

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It’s all over the news when you flip on the TV a couple days later.  Hunter Found Slain in Boone County Woods, Bear Attack Suspected.

You have this awful, sick-to-your-stomach feeling that what happened the other night, when Clyde came to your house still in wolf form with a snout and chest covered in blood, had something to do with this. 

When the picture of the victim came up on the screen, you audibly gasp, recognizing the face. It’s the guy that was feeling you up at a few nights ago at Duck Tape. 

Oh god, no. 

Suddenly, the door flies open, and Clyde’s panting as he rushes in and shuts it behind him. He looks pained, bottom lip trembling. “Have ya s-seen the ne--”

“...Police are still investigating the scene...foul play has not yet been ruled out...”

His entire demeanor falls, and the tears fill his eyes. He’s visibly shaking. You stand up and rush over to him just as he collapses on the floor. 

You’re freaking out, trying to confirm what it is you’re pretty sure you already know.

“C-Clyde, did you...?”

He looks up at you from where his head now rests in your lap. “I c-can’t quite remember, b-but I think...I think I m-might’ve.”

Sobs wrack through his body as he cries hoarsely. You’re in shock, somehow hearing the words makes the reality suddenly hit like a damn semi-truck. You run your hands through Clyde’s slightly matted mane, soothing him as best you can. 

“Clyde, it’s okay, baby. It’s alright, it’s not your fault.” You whisper.

“Y-Yeah it i-is, though. I k-killed ‘im.”

You try to stay strong, for Clyde’s sake, but the tears are swelling in your eyes at an uncontrollably fast rate.  “But you d-didn’t do it o-on purpose, h-honey.”

His face seems to drop even more when he sees that you’re about to cry. He sits up shakily, pulling you into a big ol’ bear hug.

“Oh, buttercup, oh god, ‘m sorry. I didn’t m-mean to drag y-ya into all ‘a t-this.”

You sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. It’s hard to believe that this man, this kind, gentle man, could’ve done something like this on purpose. Clyde would never hurt a fly.

From what he’s told you, which granted is very little, the line between werewolf and human for him is quite a blurry one. He seems to only be able to remember parts of what happened, and his subconscious is only there for part of the time.

Which means that he’s technically innocent, since he can’t remember nor could he control his canine impulses or instinct. As far as you’re concerned, werewolf Clyde and human Clyde are two different beings.

“I-If anyone ever f-found out ‘bout ma c-condition...”

You pull away and look up at him, holding his face in your hands. “Clyde, I-I’m not gonna turn y-you in.”

“What?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, like he’s surprised to hear your words. “Y-Yer not g-gon’...?”

Shaking your head, you swing your leg over his lap, hugging him once more while your face settles into the crook of his neck.

“No, of course not. I know you’re a good p-person, and like I said before, it’s n-not you. Your w-wolf side is not really you, Clyde, at least not entirely.”

Clyde looks down at you with an incredibly grateful expression, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He tilts your head up with one of his meaty fingers, immediately pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is relatively short, just a showing of his gratitude, of his love for you. When he pulls away, you maintain eye contact.

“Okay, so most of the solid DNA evidence will have been washed away by the rain and tampered with by the elements over the past few days that the body’s been outside. Plus, they aren’t looking for wolf DNA, and even if they somehow knew, your wolf DNA wouldn’t lead to your human identity, at least I don’t think so...”

Hours and hours of watching countless true crime shows, movies, and documentaries are finally paying off.

“But, do you remember leaving anything, anything that could indicate foul play? Really search your memory.”

He puts his metaphorical thinking cap on, closing his eyes as he tries to recall anything of use from that night, but nothing comes to mind. His eyes swell with tears as they blink open and he shakes his head. “I can’t ‘member anythin’.”

“That’s okay, Clyde. They won’t find out, I promise, they won’t.” You kiss his neck. “For now, let’s just try to relax and we’ll keep an eye on the news. Will you come snuggle on the couch with me?”

Clyde smiles softly, nodding as you pull away and stand up, extending a hand to him. He takes it, standing up seconds later.  As you walk into the living room, he says your name, causing you to turn around with a slightly perplexed expression.

“Thank ya.”

You smile brightly. “I love you, Clyde.”

“I love ya, too, darlin’.”

#mrs-gucci #mrs-gucci requests #mrs-gucci writes clyde logan #adcu #adcu community #adcu fanfiction #logan lucky #werewolf clyde logan #werewolf clyde #clyde logan #clyde logan smut #clyde logan angst #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x reader smut #tw: werewolf #tw: werewolf sex #tw: murder #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: dead body #tw: human eating #tw: a/b/o #tw: breeding kink #tw: attempted assault

[a-simple-gaywitch]

Embers to Ashes

hotch x unsub!reader

Summary: When (Y/N) leaves the BAU, she doesn’t expect to get wrapped up in a crime spree

Word Count: 2609

Warnings: abusive relationship, pregnancy & mentions of childbirth, typical criminal minds violence

“The real monsters are humans without conscience.” -Robert E. Keller

~

Your decision to leave the BAU was not an easy one, but it was what was best. After your mother fell ill, you decided to move back home to care for her, as she was alone. Your team protested, not wanting you to leave, of course. Penelope fought for you to stay the hardest. She was like the sister you never had.

The team followed you to the airport to see you off. Hugs went around, followed by promises that you’d call when you land. The only person who didn’t hug you was Hotch, which you found weird for a number of reasons. Even Spencer hugged you, and he wasn’t big on physical affection. And you’d always thought you and Hotch were close.

“Hey, promise me you’ll keep in touch,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, of course,” you said.

“Oh, I need another hug!” Penelope said, squeezing you tight again. She’d been crying the whole time and her mascara was running. “I’m gonna miss you so much, Peaches.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, Pen,” you said. You glanced at your watch. “Okay, I really have to go now. I love you guys so much.”

~

You were grocery shopping for your mother when you ran into him. Nicholas Gully, one of your old high school friends.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N) (L/N)?”

“Nick! Hi!” you said, tossing the box of pasta into your shopping cart. “How have you been?”

“Oh, great. What about you? Big FBI agent out at Quantico.”

You laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah, uh, I actually quit.”

“What? Why? All you talked about in high school was getting into the academy.”

“Uh, well, it’s because of Mom actually. She’s sick. I quit to move back out here and help her until she… Well…”

“Yeah. Well, I’m here if you need to, I don’t know, let off steam?” He handed you a business card. “Here. My number. Give me a call, we’ll go out for drinks or something.”

You smiled. “Thanks, Nick. It was good seeing you.”

~

Your mom died about a month after you moved home. You were an only child, so it was your responsibility to handle all of her affairs. It was stressful, and you felt isolated. Alone.

You looked at all the funeral plans spread out on the kitchen table, and before you knew it, you’d called Nick and asked him to come over.

What happened next was a blur. You buried your mother next to your father, Nick stayed by your side the whole time. While your mind was clouded with grief, you thought the only good thing to come of it was your new relationship with Nick.

He was nice. He treated you well and helped you through your grief. Only, he didn’t like how much you talked to Penelope and Emily, saying that it was unnatural to be so close to your ex-coworkers. So you stopped talking to them.

Nick moved in with you not too long into your relationship. He said that living in your mother’s house alone wasn’t healthy for you. He helped you sort and pack up her belongings, taking the things you weren’t keeping or throwing out to the thrift store.

You were together for about 8 months before your relationship changed.

You hadn’t been feeling well and you had your suspicions. You took a trip to the drug store and bought a few tests while Nick was at work. You took all of them, trying to rule out a false positive.

When you heard Nick come in from work, you decided to tell him.

“Hey, Nick? I have some news,” you said after he put his work bag down on the couch.

“What’s up?”

“Um, you know how I haven’t been feeling well lately? Well, I went to the pharmacy and picked up some pregnancy tests. They were all positive.”

“Are you serious? You’re pregnant?”

You nodded. “I’m calling my doctor first thing tomorrow to schedule an appointment.”

Nick’s tone should have tipped you off to his true nature. But you were in too deep.

~

A few months passed. You were showing significantly, though your doctor was worried about your health. The bags under your eyes grew, and you were showing up to your appointments with more and more bruises on your arms. One day you came in with a poorly concealed black eye.

One day, you came home from a doctor’s appointment to see Nick packing some bags.

“Nick? What’s going on?”

“We’re going on a trip,” he said. “Roadtrip, it’ll be fun.”

“Nick, I’m 7 weeks away from my due date-”

“You’ll be fine,” he snapped, thrusting a bag at you. “Get in the car.”

You headed outside, Nick’s hand firmly on your back. He steered you away from your old clunker towards a shiny new SUV. “Did you buy a new car?” you asked.

“Sure, buy. Let’s go with that.”

“Nick, what did you do? What did you get us into?”

“Don’t worry about it. Get in.”

“Nick-”

“I said, get in.”

~

“Des Moines PD has a case for us,” Penelope said. “As do St. Louis, Louisville, and Charleston.”

“Carjacking?” Morgan asked, flipping through the case file. “Why are they asking us to come in?”

“It’s the same MO,” Hotch explained. “It’s a couple, a man and a woman, presumably his wife or girlfriend. They find a home just outside the city and take the car at night, leaving the previously stolen car.”

“They’re active at night? How do we know it’s a team?” Spencer asked.

“The second victim had security cameras installed. They caught glimpses of the couple, but not enough for us to identify,” Penelope explained.  

“Why are they only bringing us in now?” Emily asked. “It says the first theft was over a month ago.”

“Because this one ended in a murder and assult. The surviving victims are at the hospital. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said.

~

When the team landed in West Virginia, Hotch divided the team up between the hospital, the crime scene, and the coroner’s office. Hotch and Emily took the hospital to interview the victims. One was a woman in her mid-30s, and the other was her 6-year-old son. The husband had been the murdered victim.

“Hi, Mrs. Foster? I’m Agent Hotchner,” Hotch said, taking a seat next to the woman with Emily. “Would you mind answering a few questions for us?”

“Well, I’m-I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to remember but…”

“Anything you tell us can help us catch these two,” Emily said, gently patting the woman’s hand. “We’re going to try something called a cognitive interview, to see what your subconscious picked up, okay?”

The woman nodded. “Okay.”

“Go ahead and close your eyes,” Emily said. “So, it was late. You and your husband were getting ready for bed. Then what?”

“Neil heard a noise,” she said. “He said it sounded like a man. He grabbed Micah’s little league bat from beside the front door. He told me to wait inside. Micah had fallen asleep on our couch and came to see what was going on. I-I heard Neil yell and I heard a gunshot. I ran outside and I saw a couple. A man and a woman.”

“What can you tell me about them? What did they look like?”

“I didn’t see the man too well, but the woman, well, I only saw her face. But she looked bad.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asked.

“Well, her skin was sunken and sallow. She had bruises all over. She looked like she was ready to drop at any second.”

“Okay. What happened then?”

“Neil was bleeding on the ground. I-I ran over to him and felt for his pulse. It was already gone. Then the man hit my head with the gun, and I fell to the ground. But Micah- I didn’t know Micah followed me. The man pointed his gun at Micah. I was terrified. I thought he was going to shoot my son, too. But then the woman stood in front of the gun. She started pleading with the man. I was fading in and out of consciousness, but I heard her.”

“Nick, don’t!”

“What did I tell you? You don’t get to call me that, whore.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir. But, please, don’t hurt him. He’s just a boy.”

“He saw our faces. You know the police are already on our trail. We can’t have a kid squealing to the cops.”

“No, I… I won’t let you.”

“You won’t let me?”

“He hit her,” Mrs. Foster said. “Hard. It was so hard I thought he shot her, too.” She shook her head. “After that, he knocked me out. I don’t know what happened next. I just remember waking up here.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Foster,” Hotch said. “This was very helpful.” Hotch and Emily got up to leave.

“Wait, Agent Prentiss,” she called after Hotch left the room. Emily turned around. “When you find them, go easy on the woman.”

“Why would you want us to do that?” she asked.

“I work at a battered women’s shelter. I see women like her all the time. She’s profoundly abused. She’s not a criminal, she’s a victim.”

~

Micah Foster was able to give a detailed description of the man to the sketch artist. Thanks to his description, they were able to track him down outside of Charlottesville, Virginia. What they weren’t counting on was seeing you, in the passenger seat.

Nick didn’t want to go down without a fight. But his idea of a fight was to use you as a human shield. He held you in front of him, his arm bracing against your throat. He had a gun in his other hand, training it on the team.

“You shoot, you hit her!” he said, pressing harder on your throat.

“Okay, okay,” Morgan said, holding his gun up in surrender. “We won’t shoot. Just let (Y/N) go.”

Nick turned the gun and pressed it to your temple. “Why are you so concerned about her?

“Because she’s a person,” Derek said, trying to negotiate. “She doesn’t need to get hurt.”

A gunshot went off. You screamed and stumbled forward, Morgan catching you. Nick fell to the ground, dropping his gun and gripping his thigh. Hotch had snuck up behind and shot him in the leg.

~

The next thing you knew, you were in an interrogation room with Hotch and Emily.

“(Y/N), what happened?” Emily asked you, her voice gentle. “You look awful. What did he do to you?”

Your eyes were trained on the table. “Nothing. He treats me with nothing but respect. I did this to myself.”

“(Y/N), we all know that’s not true,” Emily said. “Talk to us. You know us.”

You kept your eyes on the metal table and you stayed quiet.

“Damn it, (Y/N)!” Hotch yelled, slamming his hands on the table. You flinched back, closing your eyes and wincing like you were bracing for a hit. Hotch took a step back. “Prentiss, take over.”

He left the interrogation room and stormed over to the second room where Morgan and Reid were interrogating Nicholas.

“Hotch-”

“What the hell did you do to her?” Hotch nearly screamed, his blood boiling.

Nick smiled. “I didn’t do anything, she did it all to herself.”

“We both know that’s not true, you piece of-”

“Aaron!” Rossi said, cutting him off. He then proceeded to pull Hotch from the interrogation room. “What the hell is going on with you?”

Hotch took a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face. “You saw her, Dave. You saw what that asshole did to her. You saw her flinch away from me. That’s a woman who has faced down some of the worst humanity has to offer, and she’s been so badly abused that she’s…”

“Aaron, you know what abuse does to people. We’ve seen it more times than I ever want to count.”

“But it’s never been someone we know. It’s never been someone we love.”

“Ah. So that’s what this is about.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Why don’t you sit this one out? Prentiss and I can handle it.” Rossi walked into the room and sat next to Emily. Emily had given you a glass of water.

“(Y/N), why did you save the mother and her son?” she asked you.

“I don’t know,” you said, twisting the glass around in your hands.

“(Y/N).” Emily reached out and put her hand on yours. “You specifically looked out for the boy. Why?”

A tear rolled down your cheek. “Nick made me leave mine,” you whispered.

“What?”

“He said she would slow us down, that she was a burden. He made me leave her at a church. I didn’t even get to hold her.” After that, you broke down sobbing. Emily slowly crossed to the other side of the table and cautiously put her arm around you.

~

The team worked out a deal for you with the DA. You would be acquitted if you testified against Nick, and you would be closely watched by the team.

“She can’t keep sleeping on the couch in the conference room, Hotch,” Rossi said as the team gathered in the bullpen. You were asleep and the team wanted you to have peace. “She can come stay with me. Lord knows I have the space.”

“Wait, why should she stay with you? She’s my best friend,” Penelope argued. “She can stay with me.”

“Babygirl, you don’t have a spare room,” Derek reminded her. “I can take her in.”

“She just spent the better part of two years under the thumb of an alpha male, do you think she’d feel comfortable staying with another one?” Emily said.

“Did any of you think maybe she should make her own choice?” Spencer piped up. “I mean, she hasn’t been able to make her own choices, I think we should at least give her that.”

“Reid is right,” Hotch said. “We should let her make the choice. And please, don’t pressure her. She’s not the same (Y/N) she was when she left. She’s been through hell and back.”

~

In the end, you chose to stay with Aaron. Something about him made you feel safe. Slowly but surely, you started warming up again. You spent your days taking care of Jack when Hotch was on cases. When Aaron was home, he spent time with you and Jack. The two of you grew closer and closer.

You’d stayed with Aaron for a few months before there was a shift in your relationship. You weren’t sure when it happened, but you and Aaron were closer. You became more comfortable with physical contact, and you found yourself curling up on the couch with Aaron for movie nights after Jack went to bed.

You kissed Aaron first. He’d come back from a case with a book he knew you’d been wanting to read. It was something simple, but it meant the world to you, knowing there was someone who listened to you and wanted to do something nice for you.

Your relationship blossomed from there, and Aaron made sure to show you he respected you and never wanted to hurt you. Of course, there were bad days and there were days you argued, but Aaron never raised a hand against you. He never wanted you to experience the pain Nick caused you ever again.

~

“The difference between the right word and the almost right word is like the difference between a lightning bug and the lightning.” - Mark Twain

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #x reader #em's fics

[heliotropehotch]

dumbass - a.h. x reader

A/N: ty to @bucksgoat​ and pinterest for the idea for this fic

words: 1663

author: abby

warnings: gunshot wounds, breakups, mention of death (haley, its very brief) (ends in fluff!)

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Garcia asked, panicked, opening her office door for her best friend. 

“I can’t keep pretending like I’m not in pain,” she leaned against the door, sliding town to the floor. “I can’t keep pretending it didn’t hurt.”

“What did he even say to you?” Y/N shook her head, tears clouding her vision. 

“I thought if I acted like it didn’t matter, then it wouldn’t. But I was wrong. In the back of my head all day, I’ve just been thinking about what happened and what I could’ve done differently and it’s eating me alive, not being able to understand what was so horrible about me that he didn’t want me anymore,” she cried pulling her knees into her chest. “Penny, he took my lungs from my chest and now I’m suffocating.”

“Have you told any of this to Hotch?” she knelt down, putting a hand on Y/N’s knee. “Maybe if you just talked it out, he could explain-”

“I don’t know if I can handle that,” she sighed. “I can’t handle him looking me in the eyes and telling me I’m not good enough. God, you should’ve seen the look on his face; he was disgusted with me, repulsed.”

“Y/N, Hotch-” she began before being interrupted by a loud banging on the door. 

“Garcia,” his unmistakable voice rang out. “We’ve got a case, meet in the briefing room in 15.”

Y/N sighed, untensing her body as the familiar gait of his walk faded away, she looked again at her best friend, with soft, sad eyes. 

“You’re leaving, aren’t you,” Garcia’s eyes welled up. You gave her a sad smile.

“I’m headed to Strauss’s now to ask for a transfer. This’ll be my last case I think,” she stood up, dusting off the back of her suit pants. “I love you, Pen. Don’t cry okay? I’ll still come visit you.”

She walked out the office, head high as she traveled to Strauss’s lion’s den. Meanwhile, Penelope Garcia stormed to the briefing room, with a head full of anger and tears. Morgan’s eyes went wide from the window of the briefing room. “Uh Hotch?” he pointed at the bright woman whose face might actually blow. “I think you’ve got a storm coming.”

Aaron looked up from shuffling files in his hands, eyebrows in their constant furrow, the door swung open, causing a look of shock to grace his features. 

“Babygirl,” Morgan tried to calm her, but she blatantly ignored his words.

“Hotch, sir,” she began with steady breathing. “You need to do something.”

“Garcia, it’s really not any of your business,” he sighed. 

“See that’s where you’re wrong,” he raised his eyebrows. “Don’t give me that look. It became my business once you became the reason why my best friend is transferring.”

“She’s what?” he asked softly in disbelief.

“Whoa, babygirl,” Morgan once again tried to intervene. “What are you talking about?”

She ignored him again. “I thought I knew why you did it but obviously not. What did you even say to her?”

Hotch looked down, ashamed. “Does it matter? If she hates me, then I’m not hurting her.”

“That’s the point!” Garcia all but shouted. “She doesn’t hate you. She absolutely and completely loves you. What she hates is herself,” she muttered the last part out.

“Wait she’s-”

“She’s questioning what the hell is wrong with her, is what she’s doing,” Garcia stood straight. “Sir, you have my complete and total respect one hundred percent of the time and what I say, I mean with that respect still here, but you were a total dumbass.”

Before he could see anything, the familiar clack of Y/N’s heels headed up the stairs. With a final look, Penny moved to sit down next to Morgan, who was still looking at her like she had grown a third eye. 

“Sorry I’m late,” she said sheepishly, barely loud enough for Hotch to hear it. She sat down next to Garcia, who’s hand immediately found hers in a comforting grasp. She noticed the eyes of her teammates on her, but refused to look at Hotch’s face. If she had, she would’ve seen guilt and worry. “What? Do I have something on my face?” she quickly swept under her eyes for stray tears. 

Hotch cleared his throat, distracting the team long enough to begin the briefing.

In West Virginia, in the Monongahela National Forest, a man had been capturing and killing people for sport. Both men and women in their early thirties had been picked up from the side of the road as hitchhikers and then taken to a small cabin to be literally slaughtered like animals. 

Now, at the residence, the team had the location surrounded, vest doting each of the members. Y/N entered the cabin, her gun drawn and focus centered on finding the unsub, with Hotch, Morgan, and Emily behind her. She found herself in a musty office, covered in old newspapers and various taxidermied animals hung on the walls.

In a recliner, sat an older man (as they had profiled) rifle drawn and aimed at her. The latest victim, Amy Townsend, was tied across the large wooden desk. 

“Richard,” Y/N said calmly. “I need you to put down your gun.”

“Not a chance in hell, sweetheart,” she grimaced at the nickname, as his arms tense and focused on his aim. 

“Your father used to take you hunting, didn’t he?” she asked, lowering her weapon. “He taught you everything you know.”

“And what of it?” he barked out. 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she said calmly. “Not like he did.”

“You don’t know anything!” he shouted. The creak of a floorboard behind you signified someone else’s presence entering the room. Morgan attempted to make his way around to Amy. Richard’s eyes followed him.

“Hey, look at me,” Y/N redirected. “He’s just here to help her.”

“Bullshit.”

“We’re not going to hurt you Richard. Not if you just lower the gun and come with me. We just want to help.”

“Where were you to help when I was growing up?” he scoffed. “Where were you when my mamma had passed out from the pain?” he shouted, finger tightening against the trigger of the rifle. “Nah, I’m done with you. I’m done with liars.”

“Richard, don’t-” her voice was cut off by the blast of the gun hitting her shoulder. Morgan shot off a round, rendering the unsub. 

“Medic!” he shouted, running over to her as Emily rounded the corner and darted to Amy to help her. “Y/N, stay with me. Hotch! Where the fuck is the medic?”

“Morgan,” she got out, limply putting a hand against the one’s holding pressure on the wound. 

“Hey hey,” he hushed, wiping a stray tear from her eye. A gurney and EMTs began to crowd you. “It’s okay. Medic’s are here, we’re gonna take care of you.”

“Morgan, where’s Y/N-” Hotch’s words tied at the end of his tongue, finding her bloodied and weak form, eyes beginning to close. “Y/N?” 

To the best of her abilities, she turned to look at the man who had recently torn her heart out. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. And then her vision faded to black.

The rhythmic steady beeping of machines was the first thing she became aware of. Secondly, the sore, scratchy feeling in her throat. Then the warm fingers tightly wrapped around her own. 

A dark-haired head laid against the bed over folded arms. It wasn’t hard to imagine whose. With a grimace, she pulled her hand from his, causing him to sit up straight in his seat. Tired eyes met hers for the first time in what had felt like weeks. 

“You’re awake.” he noted softly, as she took in his face. Tired eyes, dark circles, worry lines ever so more prominent. 

“You’re still here,” her hoarse voice said. “Why?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused. “I had to make sure you were okay.”

“Sir,” the formality made him cringe. “Where is the rest of the team?”

“Out in the waiting room,” he sighed, moving closer to her. He didn’t ignore the way her body tensed. “Y/N we should talk.”

“Now?” she chuckled sadly. “I’ve only just woken up and you want to do this now?”

“Don’t transfer.”

Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “How did you-” she stopped herself. “I’m gonna kill Garcia.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Then what exactly did you mean to do?” she asked, angry now. “Because packing up your things and saying ‘we’re not right for each other’ definitely hurt, Aaron.”

“I thought I was protecting you,” he sighed again. 

“Protecting me? From what?” his eyes were sad as they searched hers for the right words to say. “Oh my fucking god.”

“Y/N-” 

“From yourself?” she sighed, reaching for water. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“I know that. I’m sorry,” his voice shook as he looked to the ground ashamed. 

“Aaron,” she said softly, putting a hand on her cheek. “I’m not her.”

His eyes searched yours once again, tearing up. “I almost lost you today. I thought maybe if I could let you go, I could keep you away from all the danger I bring with me.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” she said softly.

“What?”

“Aaron,” she smiled. “I chose this danger long before I chose you. You were just a bonus addition.”

He chuckled, kissing the palm of her hand. “Please forgive me, love.”

“I forgave you the moment you left,” she hummed. “But if you ever even think about doing that shit again, I’ll have Garcia personally beat you up.”

He chuckled again, “Understood. What about Strauss?”

“Strauss,” her confusion was evident once more, before chuckling herself. “I hadn’t even gotten a chance to talk to her yet. Guess I’ll have to deal with your dumbass just a bit longer.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #criminal minds #thomas gibson #hotchner x you #criminal minds x reader #angst #angsty #fluff #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #david rossi #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #derek morgan

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

TLDR: even when Democrats win, they still concede defeat and let Republicans take the W

The senate just voted 52-48 to block Biden's vaccine mandate, and even though it will be defeated in the House it raises a lot of procedural questions as to how we even got here in the first place.

It was passed with all 50 Republicans, Joe Manchin of West Virginia, and Jon Tester of Montana, so why did Chuck Schumer bring this to the floor if the majority of Democrats were against it? Mitch McConnell never let the senate vote on anything unless he personally approved of it, he gave himself the unilateral veto, so why didn't Schumer block this in the same way? Furthermore, why didn't any Democrats filibuster it?!? They didn't even TRY to block it, not a single one, they just let it sail through with 52 instead of 60 votes, handing the Republicans the majority on a silver platter! What the literal fuck?

Why is this party so useless?

Why do they get off on losing?

It's like they're masochists who can only function when the Republicans hold all the cards and can punish them.

"Please sir, can I have another?"

They're gonna get their asses kicked in 2022. The House is as good as gone because of gerrymandering; the Democrats don't seem concerned enough to nuke the filibuster to ensure fair and free elections, so they're just giving up on that front. They're not fighting it, and they're not even claiming to be fighting it, they're just letting it happen in full view of the public and acting shocked, SHOCKED, when it happens and they find themselves out of a job because of it. The Senate could go either way, but I have a strong feeling it's gonna be a bloodbath, with Republicans sweeping. They'll pick up Georgia and Arizona easy because of state level election fuckery to disenfranchise voters of color, and they stand to pick up New Hampshire solely from demographic shifts under governor Sununu (even though he said he's not running, the Republicans were able to flip both chambers of the legislature, so they have a statewide advantage), and I'm also predicting Nevada and Colorado could be very close. Maryland and Vermont are deep blue states but both have "moderate" red governors, so if we're talking worst-case-scenario nuclear apocalypse landslide, that's two more seats that could flip.

Republicans only need 5 House seats to take it, but with gerrymandering and the expected midterm bump for the opposition I'm expecting them to take well over 60. They picked up 63 seats in 2010, and that wasn't even a redistricting year, so they're absolutely gonna give themselves DOZENS of safe seats in 2022, and they'll probably pick up a bunch of competitive seats as well just by happenstance; I'm guessing they'll get 280 seats, but they could easily break 300, and 2024 isn't looking too good for Dems either so the House is gonna be solid red for the foreseeable future.

Republicans only need 1 Senate seat to flip it, but I'm guessing they'll get 3, maybe 4. It probably won't be the nuclear apocalypse, so 56 seems like an upper bound for them; I don't see them getting there, much less surpassing it, though Democrats won 60 seats in 2008 so it's not impossible for the reds to flip some strongholds like California and New York just to rub salt in the wound as the Democratic Party collapses around them. On top of however many seats they win, they'll also have West Virginia and Montana on their side, "blue" senators who will almost certainly vote red to try and save their skins going into 2024, which is gonna be an even bigger bloodbath because Democrats stand to lose the ENTIRE Midwest in one fell swoop; Wisconsin, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and possibly even Minnesota, as well as some east coast states like Virginia and Maine. It's looking REALLY bad for them, and I have NO faith that they'll be able to fix things before then.

We need election reform, and we need it NOW. Joe Biden and Chuck Schumer need to stop FUCKING AROUND and get their goddamn party back in line. If Trump told a Republican to do something, they did it under fear of retaliation. They were afraid of him, but nobody is afraid of Biden. Biden is a laughingstock; he keeps extending an olive branch to the Republicans and they keep slapping it out of his hand and spitting in his face. He never learns! He's betting that they're not as evil as we know they are, and it's gonna cost us everything! All the courts are already rigged, backed by McConnell and Trump, but it's not good enough for them and they'll keep packing it even more so it'll never go the other way again, unless we do something to stop them!

We need a new constitution, an entirely new court system with fresh faces at every level, an all out Revolution to take out the red bastards who are trying to destroy our democracy as well as the blue bastards who are standing idly by and letting them. I'm so mad I could spit.

#2022 #politics #Congress #2024 #elections #house #senate #bloodbath #red wave #it's gonna be bad #really bad #unthinkably bad #worse than we can possibly imagine #I'm afraid #the future is bleak

[clemanime]

Country Roads

Dean Winchester doing the do... in a barn my dude.

A/N: I think I’ve been on a roll lately? Maybe? What inspired this was Take Me Home Country Road by John Denver

WARNING: Smut, fluff, somewhat public sex, and if you lean in far enough you’ll see a meme

She sat in the passenger seat of the old Chevy Impala, the leather seat sticking to her skin as the sun beat down outside. “Almost heavan, West Virginia Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River.” She sang along as the song played on the radio. “Life is old there, older than the trees. Younger than the mountains, growing like a breeze.” Dean looked from the road in front of him to the radio then her.

     “This wasn’t on my cassette.” His brows furrowed.

     “It wasn’t.” She smiled, looking at him as she put the window down. She kicked her shoes off and leaned back, placing her feet out the window as she relaxed.

     “Dammit. I told you not to touch my cassette’s Y/n.”

     “This song reminds me of you.” She looked at him, catching him off guard.

     “I...” He cleared his throat and continued to drive. Tapping her finger against her thigh as she continued to sing along.

     “Country roads, take me home. To a place I belong” She adjusted herself singer circulation in her feet were being cut off. “West Virginia, mountain mama. Take me home, country roads.”

The song ended and she smiled at Dean, leaning her head to the side. “You mad that I changed your cassette?”

     “Well.” He trailed. “No.” He gripped the stirring wheel as he looked over at her, smiling.

     “Dean Winchester isn’t upset at the fact that I, his precious girlfriend, changed his cassette?” She moved closer to him. “How about I make it up to you?”

     “Oh yeah?” He questioned. “How would you do that?”

She looked outside, smiling when she saw what looked like an abandoned barn. “You ever fucked in a barn Dean Winchester?”

     “What?” He questioned in confusion, pulling to the side of the road. “A barn?”

It took a lot to catch the older Winchester off guard. The few times Dean would get flustered were when she’d show him how useful she was on a hunt. During her own research and coming up with a solution to a problem the brothers thought would be impossible. And the other times, when it was just to two of them, her sexual advances would throw him. His cheeks would redden and he’d stutter.

     “What? You scared you’d get a spider in your hair?” She moved on her hands and knees, getting closer to him as she bit her bottom lip.

     “You’re a bad influence Y/n.” He bit his bottom lip when her hand lightly traced circles on his upper thigh before lightly tracing over his growing erection.

     “Oh Dean.” She nibbled on his earlobe. “Remember what I told you the first time we had sex?”

     “You’re like that quote you say in the restroom.” He nodded.

     “God may be love. But Satan does that thing you like with his tongue.” She smirked. “And I’m Satan in this situation.” She kissed his cheek before sitting back. “To the barn?”

     “To the barn.” He did a U-turn, driving towards the barn and parking his car.

The pair got out of the car, rushing into the barn. She held his hand as she guided him towards the empty barn, a small smirk on her lips as she slowly climbed the ladder to the platform. Dean followed, staring at her, watching as she seductively stripped herself of her flowy sundress. “Enjoying the show Dean?” He sat on the stack of hay, his eyes on her hips as she sauntered towards him.

     “Come here.” He bit his bottom lip, letting her climb on his lap. She pressed her lips against his, wrapping his arm around her waist as she unbuttoned his pants.

The cool chill that rushed in through the open window of the barn lit goosebumps on her skin. She moaned as his warm hands lightly glided over her. She flicked her tongue against his swollen bottom lip, nipping and sucking on it. “Dean.” She whispered, her head falling back as he trailed kisses down her neck, stopping at her breast.

Just to tease her, Dean slowly slid her bra strap down her shoulder, his hot tongue following after his fingertips. She softly moaned, closing her eyes as his tongue moved in the opposite direction to do the same to her other bra strap. “Is this the tongue thing you like?” He questioned, his voice deeper and slightly rasped.

     “I don’t know.” She smiled. “Maybe you should do a little more with that tongue of yours.” Dean stood up, pulling his plaid long-sleeve off and placing it on the stack of hay. “A gentleman.”

     “That is who I am sweetheart.” He pulled his t-shirt off, tossing it to the side as he pushed his denims down. She watched him, opening her legs for him as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

     “Come on, gentleman. Don’t keep a lady waiting.” She smirked.

He pulled her underwear off, tossing it in the opposite direction of his shirt. “Don’t worry Cherry pie. I won’t be a gentleman for long.” Dean pulled her so that her ass hung off the hay stack, getting down on his knees and looking up at her. He bit at her inner thigh, pulling a gasp from her lips as her body jumped. Looking at him with a slight smirk. “Oh I’m sorry sweetheart. Did that hurt?” He questioned, running the flat of his tongue against the teeth marks that were forming a bruise.

     “Cute.” She smirked. “Don’t tease me Dean. I need you.” Dean stood up straight, moving closer towards her. He slowly pushed into her, his eyes closing. Her mouth hung open, toes curled, a gasp escaping her. It was always like the first time for him. Her walls tight around his member, a delicious feeling that threw all of his rational thought out the window.

Dean took her in, his mind hazed as he tried to keep himself grounded. Her sweet moans and the way she writhed under him. She was like an Angel. His hand moved to her neck, resting there for but a moment before his middle and ring finger found themselves pressed against her lips. She parted them, letting them in, her tongue swirled around them. She sucked on them, looking into his darkened eyes.

     “Fuck.” He growled, stopping.

     “No.” She gasped, pushing herself on her elbow as she circled her hips. “Dean please.” Her body trembling as she tried her hardest to get him to continue.

     “I-I need a minute.” He huffed, blinking. This wasn’t like him. She knew Dean wasn’t really one to stop when he’s about to spill his hot seed into her. It was a feeling she yearned for. A feeling she needed.

     “A minute?” She questioned. “No Dean.” She put her hand on his chest, lightly pushing him back and turning. She pushed him down, climbing back on him and lining his member with her soaked entrance. “No stopping.” She sat herself on his pulsing member, releasing a string of mewls as her eyes shut tight. “No more stopping.” She put her hands on his chest as she started riding him, her hips moving in a circle as she bounced on him.

Dean gripped her hips, growling as he tried his hardest to keep himself from finishing. His hips bucked on their own accord, a small frenzy of thrusts that chipped away at her sanity. “Son of a bitch.” He groaned, his head falling back against the hay.

     “Dean!” She chanted his name like a prayer. Scratching his chest as she pressed her forehead against his heated skin. “I’m...”

     “Me too.”

The pair tensed, tugging at each other as they both released. Dean stood up as he continued to thrust into her, holding her close as he over stimulated her tightening core. “D-Dean!” She screamed, biting his shoulder. “Oh God! Dean!” Her toes curled until her feet and calves started to cramp. He turned, sitting her down and leaning against her.

     “Son of a bitch.” He huffed.

     “You got that right.” She groaned, cupping his cheek as she looked at him. Dean held her, closing his eyes as he took in her warmth. “Dean. What are you doing?”

     “Nothing.” He was melting against her, his thumb caressing her shoulder blade.

     “You never did this before.” She pushed her hands in his hair, kissing the top of his head with a small smile. “I guess you’re really not afraid to get spiders in your hair after all.”

     “Sing to me.” He ignored her joke.

     “Sing?” She questioned, confused. “Why would I do that?”

     “Come on.”

     “What song?” She questioned. “Any particular requests my good sir?”

     “You know what song.” He looked at her.

     “You’re really a cute one.” She smiled, softly singing the song that they were listening to in the car. Dean adjusted himself, gripping her thighs as he sat up, looking into her eyes.

     “Don’t stop singing.” He whispered.

Dean slowly thrusted his hips, propping himself on his hand and using the other to hold her leg up. Her voice was faltering, her body shaking, still recovering from her first climax. “Dean.” She moaned.

     “Keep singing Y/n.” He panted, watching as his member thrust into her. “Keep singing.”

She yelped, the pleasure getting the best of her. “I-I can’t!” She looked into his eyes when he stopped.

     “Finish the song.” The pleasure that coursed through her sent a shockwave through her. She started singing again, her eyes shut tight as Dean held her waist and continued his slow thrusts. She whimpered the last verse, staring into his eyes as she climaxed.

Dean stopped, pressing his lips against hers and turning her on her side. She was taken by surprise when he placed her leg over his shoulder. She gasped, her eyes closing when he started pounding into her relentlessly. Her moans turned to screams and then finally pleas for mercy.

He didn’t stop, his fingertips digging into her thigh as his own release built up. She pushed her face into his plaid shirt, tears forming in her eyes as she felt her sanity continue to slip. “I’m gonna...” She bit her bottom lip to contain her screams.

Dean rubbed his thumb against her sensitive bundle of nerves, sending a shockwave from the tips of her toes to her fingertips. She felt as if she were on a wave, her body pulsing as she relaxed herself. Dean pulled out of her, watching as his seed slowly leaked from her entrance. “I’m sorry.” He huffed.

     “Don’t apologize handsome.” She smiled. “How about we finished this food run and get back to the bunker.”

     “Sounds like a good plan.” He nodded, helping her to her feet. She pulled looked around for her underwear, her eyes going to Dean as he put his shirt on. She found then next to a spiderweb, crossing her arms. “Looks like I’m not putting those back on.” She put her dress back on.

     “Looks like you’re scared of spiders.” He smirked, climbing down the ladder first. She followed suit, looking over at him as she walked out of the barn towards the Impala.

 The two of them arrived to the Diner, ordering some food and pie.

     “What did you mean by the song reminded you of me?” He questioned, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

     “Well.” She turned her attention towards him. “I think of you as my home.” She leaned her head against her hand, looking into his eyes. “When I go out on my own I listen to it on my way back to you. Every time I hear it I smile because Dean Winchester is the home the country roads are taking me too.” She smiled when he blushed. “Aren’t I the one that should be blushing like a school girl?”

     “It’s been a long time since I’ve fallen in love.” He grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it.

     “A true gentleman.” She moved closer to him.

Tag List

@akshi8278

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean smut #dean fluff #dean x reader smut #dean x reader fluff #main masterlist

[langdon-is-my-drug-of-choice]

Intrigued

A/N: First fic im posting on tumblr and I’m really new to this, so please! Bear with me whist I try to figure to this out! 

Outpost!Michael x reader

My Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, sorta mean Michael, think that’s it?

The days down in Outpost Three were dreadful. You had lost count of the amount of days that had passed a long time ago, and every single room was always uncomfortably cold. The long hallways in the Outpost always made you dizzy, all the twists and turns, some hallways even leading to dead ends.  

Right now, you were walking down one of those very hallways, mopping the floors. It was established right when you arrived here together with Timothy and Emily that you were a gray, a worker ant as Venable had said, why they got to purple’s and why you had to be a gray, you had no idea. But, as Ms. Venable had said herself, “The grays serve, and are grateful for the opportunity”  

And boy, were you grateful.

You always followed your commands, sometime even doing more than you were asked to. After doing this for every excruciatingly long month down in this hell hole, you eventually became Venable's favorite gray. Or, the gray she hated the least.  

Walking down the hallway during dinner time, everything was peaceful, at least as peaceful as it could be down here, you were humming a quiet tune you remember loving from before the bombs dropped.  

You didn’t have the chance to finish singing your little song, since you were rudely interrupted by the blaring sound of a harsh alarm being projected from the speakers back in the dining room and the lounging area.  

Your body picked up the pace as you continued to mop the floors, desperately trying to finish the damn chore. Once the floors looked pristine enough, you propped your mop up against the wall and bolted down the hallway, aiming to head back to your room.  

You didn’t have the chance to make it all the way to your room, since the sound if two different voices cut you off.

“You don't sound like you believe me” you could distinctly hear Venable say. Her tone was light for a change, she even let out a light chuckle.  

“Why wouldn't I? To me Seems like you've done a wonderful job. The walls are still standing. Your people are alive and healthy. Which is quite a feat, considering” the second voice said, the voice of a man, but not a man you recognized.  

By now, you had propped yourself up against one of the walls, leaning against in with your back to the wall.

“Considering?”  

“That three more Outposts have been overrun, and the remaining three won't last through the year”

“Why are you here?” Venable asked him, her voice reeking of confusion, but still holding a certain level of authority.

“Because it's only a matter of time before the same thing happens to you. The good news is, there's another facility, a sanctuary. This one's completely impregnable and stocked with enough supplies to last a decade” the male voice explained, his voice being deep, but at the same time holding some sort of boyish quality to it.  

“You're here to take us there” Venable said, thinking she had finished his sentence for him.  

“Hmm, I've been assigned to evaluate the people here and select the ones most worthy of survival. I could take all of you or none of you” he retorted, knocking down Venable’s previous confidence boost.

“Those who make it, live and will continue on” he continued; his tone of voice however, soon turned dark, almost eerie sounding.  

“Those who don't end up like my horses” he finished; his voice having dropped a few octaves.  

Only when you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards you, did you hurry down the hallway in the opposite direction you came in. Hoping you weren’t seen.

---

---

You were on your knees, poking at the fireplace in the lounging area. The rest of the occupants were sitting around, seemingly waiting for something, but what, you weren’t quite sure.  

Even though your attention was mostly directed at the fireplace, you didn’t fail to hear the insistent clicking of expensive-sounding leather boots coming towards you from behind. From what you had gathered by now, you knew that Ms. Venable was standing behind you, so it couldn’t have been her boots clicking.

The sound stopped right behind you, Venable stepped down from her spot in front of the Outpost's residents. Venable’s hand found its way to your shoulder, grasping tightly, urging you to stand, and face the Outpost’s new found guest.  

You did as you were silently instructed, standing up and standing beside Venable. You let you eyes wander to the man you had eavesdropped on last night, and boy was he a sight to see.  

He was tall, with long strawberry-blonde hair the reached just below his collarbone. His beautiful crystal-clear blue eyes were scanning the room, looking at every single person inside the room. When his eyes met yours, you could feel you heart flutter and your moth fall slightly open.  

Upon catching sight of his entire face, you felt your breath catch in your throat. You let your eyes wander his face, from his hair, to his eyes, to his beautifully sculpted cheekbones, to his jawline and last, but certainly not least, his beautifully plump looking lips.

He quickly averted his gaze, and faced the elites once again, his large hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“My name is Langdon, and I represent The Cooperative. I won't sugarcoat the situation. Humanity is on the brink of failure. My arrival here was crucial to the survival of civilized life on Earth. The three other compounds In Syracuse, New York, Beckley, West Virginia, and San Angelo, Texas have been overrun and destroyed. We've had no contact from the six international outposts, but we are assuming that they, too, have been eliminated” Langdon said, your mind drifting back to last night, the conversation he had with Venable.

“What happened to the people inside?” Andre asked as he looked up at Mr. Langdon.  

“Massacred. The same fate that will befall almost all of you” he explained.

“Almost all?” you said from beside Mr. Langdon, your breath once again catching in your throat once your eyes met.

“In the knowledge that this very moment might occur, we built a failsafe The Sanctuary” he said, not breaking eye contact with you.

“The Sanctuary is unique. It has certain security measures that will prevent overruns" he continued to explain, almost sounding annoyed.

“Excuse me, sir. What measures? Why weren't we given them?” Ms. Mead asked, her tone being firm and assertive.  

“That's classified. All that matters is that The Sanctuary will survive, so the people populating it will survive, so humanity will survive” he said while raising his hand to her in a dismissive manner.

“Who are the people who are populating it?” Andre asked again.

“Also classified. However, I have been sent to determine if any of you are worthy and fit to join us” Mr. Langdon said, dismissing Andre’s question.

“The Cooperative has developed a particular and rigorous questioning technique we like to call "Cooperating." I will then use the information gained to determine if you belong” Langdon said jokingly, almost laughing at his own pun.

“What is this, The Hunger Games? This is bullshit. I paid my way in here, and that is the only cooperating I plan on doing” Coco whined out to him, sounding pissed.

“You don't have to sit for questioning” He said with a sigh, clearly annoyed.

“What happens if we choose not to?” Andre prodded.

“Then you stay here and die” He said harshly. The tone in his voice was clear and demining, and you weren’t gonna lie to yourself, he was doing a very good job of turning you on.

“I volunteer to go first” Gallant said while raising his hand high into the air.

“I’m afraid that wont be possible, as I’ve already chosen the order of my interviews. The process should only take me a couple of days, so you won't be kept in suspense forever. For those of you who don't make the cut, all is not lost. If the worst should happen and feral cannibals come knocking, down one of these. One minute later, you fall asleep and never wake up. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you” Langdon said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small vial of tiny white pills.

---

---

“Come, Mr. Langdon has requested to see you in his office” Ms. Mead said to you as you were finishing up your chores for the night.  

“Now? But, I’m not finished with my chores yet” you replied to her’ knowing how mad Venable would be if she found out you didn’t finish your chores.

“Now, Ms. (L/N), he said he didn’t want to be kept waiting” she said. You propped your broom up against the nearest wall and hastily followed her down the corridor.  

She led you tov the wide, dark sliding doors at the end of one of the corridors, you had been down there a few times, sweeping the floors and whatnot, but you had never been inside before.

Ms. Mead knocked on the door, but then the door slid open on it’s own, neither Mead or Mr. Langdon had laid a finger on it.  

“Ah, come in, I’ve been waiting for you. Ms. Mead, you may leave now” said, ushering you inside and shooing Mead away. She nodded politely and left down the corridor, leaving you and Langdon alone.  

“Sit” was all he said as he too, sat down behind the desk by the fireplace. You did as you were told, sitting down in front of him, keeping you eyes on the ground.  

“Do I scare you?” He asked. You shook your head in response, eyes still on the ground. You heard him getting up from his chair and stalking around the desk to stand in front of you.

His fingers curled themselves around your chin, lifting your face to look at him. You could see his eyes wandering you face, then down the entirety of your body. At this point, you could feel just how much this man was turning you on, and all he had done was talk.

“You’re not quite like the others here, are you?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” you whimpered, thoroughly confused, but at the same time, insanely turned on. He hummed, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip, parting you lips slightly.  

“You’re so willing” ha said as he let go of your chin and leaned back into the desk, almost sitting on it.

“Willing?” you asked him, now looking at his handsome face willingly.

“Yes, willing. Willing to serve, eager to please” he said, and you couldn’t really dent it either.  

“I guess” you mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

Langdon pushed himself off the desk with his hips, casually stepping to the side, facing you.

“Sit on the desk for me, can you that?” he said with mock sweetness in his tone, but you knew he wasn’t joking. You nodded your head and did as you were told, gently climbing onto the dark wooden desk and squeezing your thighs together once you had gotten situated on the desk.  

“Good girl” he said, but as soon as those words left his lips, you could feel a new flood of arousal was over you, positively soaking your plain cotton underwear. He walked over to you placing his hands on your knees and prying your legs apart, coming to stand between them.

His hands trailed up your thighs, coming to rest on you hips. Your breathing was heavy, and you were positive that Langdon could hear you heart thump in your chest.  

“Nervous?” he chuckled while sliding his hands along you waistline. This time, you nodded while slightly squirming under his warm hands. He chuckled a little at your response and reached behind you to undo the tie on your apron, tugging it off you and letting it fall to the floor.

He continued, once again reaching behind you, unzipping your gray dress, pulling the top part of it off of you, exposing your plain cotton bra to him. His hand soon found it’s way to your throat, pushing you back to lay down on the desk.

“Now, you do know that it’s very rude to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, right?” he laughed, somehow, he knew about how you had accidently listened in to his and Venable’s previous conversation.  

“I-I’m s-sorry” you whimpered, finding talking a bit difficult due to his hand being coiled around your throat. He harshly let go of you throat as he started to rid himself of his own clothing, first his lavish jacket, then his undershirt, then his belt.  

His bare chest was now on full display, and you were definitely enjoying the view.

“Sadly, ‘I-I’m s-sorry’ isn’t going to cut it, pet” he said, mocking your previous whimpers. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your gray uniform, pulling it off your body, dragging your panties down along with the rest of you uniform.

He stepped in between your thighs again, your glistening cunt now on full display for him. “I’ve barely touched you, and you already so fucking wet for me, dirty girl” you whimpered at his words, becoming even more turned on than you already were.  

He reached behind your back and undid your bra, with some difficulty. Now you laid on his desk, completely nude in front of this gorgeous man who was currently unzipping his expensive-looking dress pants.  

He let his pants drop to the floor, along wit his boxers, exposing him fully to you.  

“Tell me what you want, pet. Naughty girls have to beg to get what they want” he teased as he slid two of his fingers along your slick folds, urging you to call out and beg for him.  

“Please…” you whimpered out quietly, color flooding your face out of embarrassment. He grabbed ahold of you thighs, pulling half of your ass off the desk, giving him better access to you.  

He raised his hand and brought it down onto your bare ass, hard, making you yelp.

“You can do better than that, pet. Now beg. Beg for me to fuck you” he said, it was more of a demand than an instruction.

“Please! Please, f-fuck me, please Mr. Langdon, please” you said, heightening your voice so he could hear you more clearly. He lowered his head down to your stomach, leaving wet sloppy kisses down your abdomen, teasing you further.

“Good girl, I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” he asked, once again faking that sugary-sweet tone. You nodded your head as fast as you could just wanting him inside you. He came up from your stomach, grabbing ahold of his cock jerking himself a few times, spreading some of his precum onto himself, though you doubted is was necessary.  

He lined the head of his cock up with your drenched entrance and slowly pushing into you. One painfully thick inch out of time. His hands wandered from your waist to one hand tightly gripping your throat to the other holding a bruising grip on your hip.

One he was finally fully sheathed inside you, he let out low growling-kind of noise, making you clench around him. He gave you very little time to adjust to his size, since he soon began pounding into you at a ruthless pace. Your moaning was loud, and you were sure that if you didn’t shut up soon, the entirety of the Outpost would hear just how good this man was making you feel.

“You’ve gotta stay quiet for me, okay pet?” all you could do was nod you head in response, but you didn’t seem to be keeping your promise, since you didn’t quiet down. Langdon put both his hands on your waist, leaning down and planting his lips over yours, effectively shutting you up.

His lips were soft, just as soft as they looked. They moved against your lips in perfect sync. The feeling of his lips on yours was almost orgasmic on its own.

You could feel a certain pressure building up in your lower abdomen, and you knew you orgasm was creeping up on you. Langdon must have felt it too, since he soon detached his lips from yours and slowed his pace significantly.

“Don't you dare cum before I say you can. Now, show Daddy just how much you want to cum” he instructed, making you pulse slightly around his cock.

“Please! Please Daddy, I want to cum on your cock, I wanna cum so bad, please!” you begged him for your release, and apparently, that was enough for him, because he came back to his previous pace with a passionate fury.

Thrusting his cock into you as hard as he possibly could, he seemingly stopped caring about just how loud you were being. You could feel his cock twitch inside you, and that was quite enough for you to start clenching around him as your orgasm washed over you.

Because of how much you had tightened around him, Langdon couldn’t hold back his own orgasm either. With a few more hard thrusts, his cock twitched inside you once again as he released his cum deep inside you, filling you to the brim, some of it leaking out and dripping down and onto the floor.

Both of your breaths were heavy, you were borderline panting at this point, but he was also breathing heavily, his face buried in your neck, leaving gentle little kisses along your throat.  

“Is this part of my test?” you whimpered out weakly, his cock still hard inside you, twitching and pulsing.

“Isn’t everything?” he asked breathlessly, coming up from your neck to look into your eyes once again, still breathing heavily.

“Well, then do I pass?” you ask, feeling a single tear run down the side of your face.

“Yes, you’ll be coming back with me, pet”

#michael langdon #michael langdon smut #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x reader smut #outpost!michael #ahs apocolaypse #ahs #cody fern #smut #x reader smut

[rosemakh]

Talking Topics with Taika - Episode 2: Weatherliness

[spoof interview show with call-in listeners and guests]

[Author's Note: This was originally written in 2014 as a script for an audio series. I wrote two episodes but was unable to continue the project. This is the re-written version, with visual descriptions added as needed. It reads sort of like a script. Just imagine this as a televised talk show with guests seated on a stage, in front of a studio audience.]

Taika: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, we tackle an issue that affects the life of every living thing on this planet: Weather Change. With the Weather Awareness Conference taking place in Tornado, West Virginia this weekend, Weather Change is once again a hot-button topic. There are many opinions and hypotheses surrounding Weather Change. Tonight's guests are here to help us sort through it all. Please welcome to the show:

Virga Gale, author of "Weatherliness: How to Weather the Weather without Becoming Weathered, Whether You Want to or Not";

Virga: "Thank you, Taika"

Taika:  "Thisisa Nalias, founder of Caring Responsibly And Providing Offerings Lovingly Annually;"

Thisisa Nalias: "Thanks a bunch, Taika!"

Taika: "and Foliaj McGreenly, author of "People are Plants Too: the Complete Guide to Living Without Eating or Drinking."

Foliaj: "I thanketh thee~!"

Taika: "Why don't we start by defining the topic at hand. Miss Virga, what exactly is Weather Change?"

Virga: "It's weather that changes, Taika. Because the weather seems to be changing all the time, we think this is the way things should be, but as I explain in my book "Weatherliness" (which, by the way is available now in bookstores nationwide, and at Weatherliness.com), the truth is this: these weather changes occur because we continue to disrupt the Earth's naturally tranquil and weather-free temperament.

You see, when we are experiencing storms, droughts, snowfall, earthquakes, and nighttime, it's clear that the earth has weather changes, though many people continue to deny it."

Taika: "So, earthquakes and nighttime are also caused by Weather Change?"

Virga: "Yes! When the ground shakes and the sky grows dark, it's clear that something is wrong with our planet!"

Thisisa: "Ooo! Ooo! Ooo! Me! Pick me!"

Taika: "Would you like to respond, Mr. Thisisa?"

Thisisa: "Yes! I completely agree with Miss Virga. Something is very wrong with our planet! Mother Earth is upset because we walk all over her and dig pockmarks into her face and build huge towers on her smooth, supple skin. All we have to do is cheer her up and all this bad weather will go away."

Taika: "An interesting theory. And how might we cheer her up?"

Thisisa: "Chocolate! Women love chocolate!"

Virga: "Excuse me?"

Thisisa: "You know! Chicks like chocolate!"

Virga: "You sexist--"

Thisisa: "So if we give some chocolate to Mother Earth, she'll calm the heck down. That's why my foundation is currently working with government officials to pass a law requiring every nation to give her an offering of one metric ton of chocolate candies for every one million citizens, on January 5th each year."

Taika: "I've heard there is a lot of pushback from the other nations in opposition to that law."

Thisisa: "Yes, but they have to come onboard! If Mother Earth doesn't get her chocolate fix, she'll keep nagging and whining and the weather will only get worse!"

Virga: "You sexist pig! You really think chocolate will be enough to calm Mother Earth, simply because she's a woman?"

Thisisa: "Hey, chill out, toots!"

Virga: "You dare call me 'Toots'? You must die!!"

[she smacks him hard with her hand, hear the slap!]

Thisisa: "Hey, stop it, you cow!"

[she smacks him again, with a book this time]

Virga: "Shut up, pig!"

Taika: "Miss...Miss Virga..."

Thisisa: "That hurts, horse-face!"

Virga: "Good, worthless dog!"

[The fighting continues in the background as the show goes on]

Foliaj: May I speaketh upon this matter~~?"

Taika: "By all means, Mr. Foliaj."

Thisisa: "Elephant!"

Virga: "Rat!"

Foliaj: "I disagree-eth with this flawed assumption that the Earth is a female, for just as we-eth are genderless, so too-eth is the Earth. It is all explained-eth within mine book "People are Plants Too" (availableth now at NeverEatethnorDrinketh.com)."

Thisisa: "Manatee!"

Virga: "Weasel!"

Thisisa: "Buffalo!"

Virga: "Worm!"

Foliaj: "Usingeth this soil-filled flower pot, I shall demonstrateth as per the diagram on page 37-eth of my book."

Foliaj: "When we sticketh thine feet into the Earth's soil, remove our restrictive garments [he drops his robe, now in his boxer shorts] and stretcheth our branches to collect the sun's rich light-eth, we are as the plants of the Earth, genderless and gentle, not angering the Earth by taking-eth of animal-eth or plant-eth, but merely soaking up that which is given-eth to us. We needeth not food. We needeth not play, for in reality, we are not humans - we are plantmans."

Taika: "er... this may be out of line on my part, but since you're standing here in a flower pot in nothing but your underwear, I'll go ahead and say it. You look like you're literally starving to death Mr. Foliaj."

Foliaj: "This is merely the form of a mature plantman~~! One begins to resembleth the strong branches of a tree as one's body deepens its reconnection with the Earth~~!"

Taika: "Those aren't branches, they're bones! All of your bones are sticking out!"

Virga: [laughs] "What is wrong with you, plant guy?" [keeps laughing in the background]

Thisisa: "Yeah, you're a real freak, man!" [laughing] "And your fake accent is so stupid!"

Foliaj: "Quieteth thine tounge~! This accent makeseth me soundeth mystical... Waiteth a minute! As I am one with the Earth, it has spoken to me and I remebereth thou, sir~~!"

Thisisa: [still laughing] "Oh, do you?"

Foliaj: "Thou arteth in truthality Willa Wonky, owner of Choco-lotso, the world's largest producer of chocolateth candies~~!"

Taika: "Oh my gosh! He is!"

Virga: "Ah~~ The Chocolate King…? I'm a huge fan!"

Foliaj: [building up power around, almost as if he's gathering power to cast a very powerful spell, hear the sounds of wind rushing, vines sprouting, and so on, and it gets louder as he continues speaking] "Is that why you wanteth every nation to giveth chocolate to the Earth, when the Earth is the one who creates-eth chocolate in the first placeth~~? To linest thine grimy pockets with gains takeneth from Earth-honoring people~~?! YEE~~ FOWL~~ HYPOCRITE~~~" [the noise has reached its peak and the air is sparking with electricity]

(GASPS) (RELEASES A DEATH MOAN) [he has just died and is silent now. All the other noises die down as well]

Virga: [Screams at the top of her lungs]

Taika: "He...died! It looked like Mr. Foliaj was going to cast some sort of...plant-based magic spell, but he just bent over backwards and died! Someone call a doctor...or maybe an arborist would be better?"

Willa Wonky: "Phew! He almost killed me with those magic vine things. Must be my lucky day!"

Virga: "How can you be happy? Someone's dead!"

[Foliaj McGreenly's voice echoes throughout the room]: "Do not fretteth thou, for I can now finally returneth to the Earth..." [his last "to the earth"s fade out softly as a magical transformation sound is heard, which occurs because he is transforming into a small bony flower that has his face]

Willa Wonky: "What the heck is that ugly thing?"

Taika: "He turned into a bony flower."

Virga: "The part between the petals looks like his face. It's kinda cute."

Willa Wonky: "I don't think 'cute' is the word for it. Gross."

[The lights fade to black as the ending theme music fades in]

#comedy #funny story #fiction #fake interview #interview #short story

[foxerice]

stuff that wouldve happened if seth were still w the foxes

“it’s a sad day… we lost our dear teammate seth…” “stop telling everyone i’m dead” “sometimes i can still hear his voice” 

-

seth: (picks up sir & king so that they’re eye level w him)

neil: oh yeah ‘drew found them recently-

seth, with purpose: i would die for them.

sir and king: (sit on seth’s lap) (start purring)

andrew, seething: traitors

-

seth and aaron, sitting on a table (on it) w notebooks out:

nicky kevin and renee, standing in front of a whiteboard that says “homophobia. bad.” in bright red letters: so in todays lesson, 

-

seth: why are you here

kevin: how else will you learn the entirety of lgbtq+ history?

aaron, sweating: the… the entirety?

kevin, pulling up a projector as nicky and renee hand out popcorn: we have time 

-

seth: (raises his hand)

nicky: yes seth!

seth: what does twink mean

nicky: what

seth, genuinely shaken: i heard andrew call neil a ‘twink twig bitch’ when they were arguing this morning and im— im kind of scared to look it up—

-

kevin, violently rubbing at the whiteboard: oh no oh— oh fuck this is—fuck this is sharpie—

nicky, sweating: haha ok! recess!

seth: isn’t that wymack’s-

kevin: shut up and help me

-

dumb reporter @ neil: who tops in your relationship?

seth, as wymack pulls neil away: shut the FUCK up that is an INVASION of PRICEY

nicky: it’s working!

andrew: it’s not

nicky, about to cry: his head is in the right place ok

-

renee, leaning in close: say a slur one more time and i will beat you so hard your ancestors will feel it. do you understand.

aaron and seth, holding back tears: yes ma'am.

-

andrew and renee have the apocalypse. seth and matt have cryptids.

wymack: listen up! our next game is in west virginia, point pleasant

matt and seth: (excited yelling)

matt, gripping seth’s shirt: im gonna fuck mothman

seth: im gonna cook him a warm meal

matt: you’re a no homo little bitch

-

seth: SUCK A DICK, JOSTEN

neil, being held back by nicky: MAYBE I WILL

wymack, quietly, to the bus driver: please flip us over

-

seth, waving allison’s car keys: you. me. AA. now.

kevin, thoroughly confused: what

seth: neil said you were thinking of quitting drinking but didn’t know how to start so i signed the both of us up now let’s go we don’t have all fucking day

seth: i’ll be there and we can leave whenever if it’s not your thing so don’t fucking worry about it

kevin, close to tears: alright.

(seth has six brothers) (for some reason kevin feels like his first)

-

nathaniel: i understand why andrew is handcuffed to wymack but seth?

seth, eyes red from crying (also black and swollen from the riot and andrew): so what if i am. he isn’t the only fucking disaster here. get over yourself.

(neil is his second)

-

(seth gets in andrew’s way when he tries to strangle kevin) (he cant open his left eye for three days after) 

-

when kevin decides to get the queen tattoo, seth gets something with him

seth decides to take this thing with allison seriously and begrudgingly asks matt for relationship advice

seth laps the stadium three times with andrew when they realise neil is missing

him and renee abolish whoever it was that hurt allison during the riot

when kevin confesses that he knows where neil might be, it takes him everything he has to protect him from andrew instead of just strangling kevin himself

andrew tries to fight an officer when they wont let them see neil. seth backs him up 

seth would’ve still been an aggressive jerk. he would’ve slipped up more than once but neil would’ve convinced seth to let his past go and stop letting it poison everything he did. he’d grow close to certain foxes and they would’ve helped him without trying. he’d want allison to help him look into grad schools and he’d go into social work and he wanted to help people. 

he was depressed and angry and an asshole and a brother and in love (and scared of it) and he was talented and strong. his life wasn’t fair and he definitely wasn’t alright and he was a fox.

#i dont know hjdfjk #he wanted to die man #he was scared of falling in love #he was sure wymack would give up on him #he was a lot of other things too #but a fox mainly #anyway add him to your alternative universe fics and fanart where all the foxes are present #cowards #seth gordon #the foxhole court #i keep getting the amount of brothers wrong im sorry i cant count #tfc #aftg #allison reynolds #kevin day #neil josten #text #character study ig #all for the game #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #shitposts too #'rice y are you making content for toxic characters instead of the good ones that hardly get any' #i saw 'he wanted to die' in noras extra content and it just fucking hit me idk

[desiraypark]

A Mean Old Fashioned

This is an entry in the Clyde x Sherri series! Clyde gets a good recommendation from a new friend...

“Mr. Logan...”

Clyde hopped up from the chair and turned to greet the man. Nick Strafford was his name. Clyde shook his hand.

“Good morning, Sir,” Clyde responded.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Mr. Strafford said. “Please, have a seat.”

Clyde swallowed as he sat.

“So you’re an acquaintance of James Cooke? Him and his wife come in about once a month for dinner.”

“Yes, he’s my neighbor. Him and his wife are very kind,” Clyde answered.

“That they are. He said you made a mean Old Fashioned for him a couple of weeks ago.”

Clyde chuckled. “Yes, he really enjoyed it, Sir.”

“Good Old Fashioneds,” Mr. Strafford mumbled to himself. He looked over Clyde’s resumé. “Served in the Army. Then worked at Duck Tape in Boone, West Virginia for sixteen years?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What was the clientele like there?”

“Um...most were friendly. We were all like family. In good ways and bad ways.”

“What made a day, or an evening bad at Duck Tape?”

Clyde had a quick flashback to that time that drink man came into the bar and made fun of his hand, and Jimmy beat him up.

“Just fol—people—coming in and being rowdy. Starting fights. It was rare, but it happened,” he answered.

“So, let’s say that a fight broke out in Strafford’s Kitchen...how would you handle it?” Mr. Strafford asked.

The image of Clyde throwing a Molotov Cocktail in the drink man’s car flashed in his brain. Then came the quick flash of Sherri yanking up that woman who put her finger her face.

“Well, Sir. First, I think it’s important to make sure the situation doesn’t escalate to that point. But if it does, I’d first make sure the other patrons are safe, and I’d adhere to the company’s policies on such circumstances.”

Mr. Strafford grinned and nodded. “That was a trick question.”

Clyde chuckled and pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. “Now, Mr. Logan. I’d like to ask you about your misdemeanor...” The seat was hot again. Clyde swallowed and felt his shoulders shrink. 

******************** Sherri was sitting on the sofa with her laptop. She’d been filling out applications all morning--mostly for positions at grocery and clothing stores. Just as she'd finished an application, she heard Clyde’s car pull up. He came into the house with a pizza. “Hey, Baby!” she said. “Oooh, pizza!” Clyde placed the box on the end of the sectional, rushed to Sherri, and planted a hot and heavy kiss on her lips. “Good interview?” she asked with raised eyebrows. “I’m ‘bout 90% certain I got it, Babygirl,” he said. He sat beside Sherri and wrapped his arms around her. Sherri wiggled a hand from his embrace and held his face to give him a sweet peck on the lips.  “He ain’t look down at my hand like the other ones,” he added with a hushed mumble.

“Oh, Honeybunch,” Sherri cooed. She wrapped her arms around Clyde’s neck. “I’m so happy to hear that. I know that was gettin’ you down.” “Yeah. I’m excited. Only thing I have to worry about is my record, I suppose,” Clyde said looking down. He looked back up at Sherri and kissed her lips again. Then, he pulled away, grabbed the pizza box and took it to the dining room. “What have you been doin’?” “Fillin’ out applications,” Sherri answered with a sigh. She leaned back on the sofa.  “Well. Take you a break. Come get you a slice.”

#clyde x sherri

[ghostflowerdreams]

Are there any tv show you recommend?

The type of television shows that I like to watch are fantasy, science fiction, horror, supernatural, comedy, superhero fiction, and/or a mixture of all these things. I don’t know if you’re into that, but hopefully one of these shows will peak your interest.

I was going to recommend only the most recent shows, but I figured I might as well make it one big recommendation list instead. This isn’t in any particular order and please be aware that some of these shows will contain nudity, sex, violence and so on.

HORROR

The Outsider – is an American horror crime drama miniseries based on the novel of the same name by Stephen King. Currently has one season.

“The Outsider” begins by following an investigation which at first seems like it will be simple and straightforward but things change as it leads into the gruesome murder of a young boy by a seasoned cop. When an insidious supernatural force edges its way into the case, it leads the investigators to question everything they believe in.

Outcast – is an American horror drama television series based on the comics of the same name by Robert Kirkman and Paul Azaceta. Unfortunately, the series was cancelled after two seasons.

Kyle Barnes, a man who has been plagued by demon possession since he was a child. His search for answers – and redemption – leads him into a relationship with Reverend Anderson, a West Virginia evangelist who believes he is fighting in a holy war against Earth’s evil forces. As Barnes sequesters himself from those he loves for fear of causing greater hurt, he begins to delve into secrets from his past. What he discovers could be life-changing – and affect the fate of the world forever.

Penny Dreadful – is a British-American psychological thriller filled with dark mystery, suspense and gothic romance. It concluded with three seasons, with a disappointing ending (or at least I personally think so). A spin-off series, Penny Dreadful: City of Angels, is set to premiere on April 26, 2020.

Many people are familiar with classic literary characters like Dr. Frankenstein and Dorian Gray. “Penny Dreadful” brings those and other characters into a new light by exploring their origin stories in this psychological thriller that takes place in the dark corners of Victorian London. Sir Malcolm is an explorer who has lost his daughter to the city’s creatures, and he will do whatever is needed to get her back and to right past wrongs. His accomplice, seductive clairvoyant Vanessa Ives, recruits charming American Ethan Chandler to help locate Sir Malcolm’s daughter and slay some monsters.

Hannibal – is an American psychological horror–thriller television series developed by Bryan Fuller for NBC. The series is based on characters and elements appearing in Thomas Harris’ novels Red Dragon, Hannibal, and Hannibal Rising. The show concluded with three seasons.

Gifted criminal profiler Will Graham has a unique way of thinking that allows him to empathize with anyone, including psychopaths. But while helping the FBI pursue a particularly complicated serial killer, he decides he could use some help and enlists the brilliant psychiatrist Hannibal Lecter. The two form a partnership and it seems that there is no villain they can’t catch together, but Lecter harbors a dark secret. His own brilliant mind has gone to the dark side and he has more in common with the criminals they hunt than Will could possibly imagine.

FANTASY

The Witcher – is an American fantasy drama series produced by Lauren Schmidt Hissrich. It is based on the book series of the same name by Polish writer Andrzej Sapkowski. It currently has one season.

Geralt of Rivia, a Witcher who roams The Continent hunting legendary monsters and getting involved in geopolitical upsets (in spite of his own political neutrality). But when destiny hurtles him toward a powerful sorceress and a young princess with a dangerous secret, the three must learn to navigate the increasingly volatile Continent together.

The Librarians – is an American fantasy-adventure television series developed by John Rogers. It is a direct spin-off of The Librarian film series, which it shares continuity with. The series concluded with four seasons.

Hidden below the Metropolitan Public Library, is an ancient organization dedicated to protecting an unknowing world from the secret, magical reality hidden all around. This group solves impossible mysteries, fights supernatural threats and recovers powerful artifacts, including the Ark of the Covenant, the Spear of Destiny and Excalibur.

Supernatural – is an American dark fantasy television series created by Eric Kripke. It concluded with 15 seasons and is known as the longest-running American live-action fantasy television series.

This series follows the thrilling yet terrifying journeys of Sam and Dean Winchester, two brothers who face an increasingly sinister landscape as they hunt monsters. After losing their mother to a supernatural force, the brothers were raised by their father as hunters who track mysterious and demonic creatures. Violent memories and relationship-threatening secrets add additional burdens on Sam and Dean as they investigate all things that go bump in the night. As old tricks and tools are rendered useless and friends betray them, the brothers must rely on each other as they encounter new enemies.

Lucifer – is an American urban fantasy television series developed by Tom Kapinos. It is based on the DC Comics character created by Neil Gaiman, Sam Kieth, and Mike Dringenberg taken from the comic book series The Sandman, who later became the protagonist of a spin-off comic book series, both published by DC Comics’ Vertigo imprint. The series currently has five seasons, but Netflix renewed it for the sixth and final season.

This series follows Lucifer, the original fallen angel, who has become dissatisfied with his life in hell. After abandoning his throne and retiring to Los Angeles, Lucifer indulges in his favorite things (women, wine and song) – until a murder takes place outside of his upscale nightclub. For the first time in billions of years, the murder awakens something unfamiliar in Lucifer’s soul that is eerily similar to compassion and sympathy. Lucifer is faced with another surprise when he meets an intriguing homicide detective named Chloe, who appears to possess an inherent goodness – unlike the worst of humanity, to which he is accustomed. Suddenly, Lucifer starts to wonder if there is hope for his soul.

Siren – is an American television drama series that premiered on Freeform. The series currently has two seasons and was renewed for a third and final season which is set to premiere on April 2, 2020.

Legend has it that Bristol Cove was once home to mermaids. Now, this coastal town has a mysterious new visitor in a girl named Ryn, who may just prove that all of the stories are true. Ryn catches the eye of local marine biologist Ben, and when he begins to show interest, fellow marine biologist Maddie becomes suspicious. Others in town, like deep sea fisherman Xander, are on a quest to discover the truth that is out there, and Helen, the town eccentric, knows more about the mysterious creatures than she lets on. The battle between man and sea takes a dangerous route as these predators seek to claim their birthright.

SCIENCE FICTION

The Expanse – is an American science fiction television series developed by Mark Fergus and Hawk Ostby, based on the series of novels of the same name by James S. A. Corey. It currently has four seasons and a fifth season on the way.

Hundreds of years in the future, things are different than what we are used to after humans have colonized the solar system and Mars has become an independent military power. Rising tensions between Earth and Mars have put them on the brink of war. Against this backdrop, a hardened detective and a rogue ship’s captain come together to investigate the case of a missing young woman. The investigation leads them on a race across the solar system that could expose the greatest conspiracy in human history.

Killjoys – is a Canadian fast-paced space adventure drama series that aired on CTV Sci-Fi Channel (formerly Space) in Canada. The show concluded with five seasons.

A trio of bounty hunters, known as Killjoys, chases deadly warrants through the Quad, a distant area that is near the start of a violent class war among multiple planets. Gorgeous but deadly Dutch is a top-level Killjoy who has a unique gift for earning people’s trust, regardless of their class. The much-loved Killjoy harbors a dark secret. Kindhearted John is a peacemaker who prefers not to fight. Handsome, loyal former soldier D'avin is experienced in hand-to-hand combat, which makes him a valuable asset to the team.

Stargate SG-1 – is a Canadian-American military science fiction adventure television series and part of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s Stargate franchise. The show, created by Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner, is based on the 1994 science fiction film Stargate by Dean Devlin and Roland Emmerich. The series concluded with ten seasons. It also spawned the animated television series Stargate Infinity, the live-action spin-off TV series Stargate Atlantis, Stargate Universe, and Stargate Origins and the direct-to-DVD films Stargate: The Ark of Truth and Stargate: Continuum.

A team of explorers made up of soldiers and scientists travels through a Stargate, an ancient portal to other planets. They use the Stargate to explore new worlds, forge ties with friendly civilizations and protect Earth from hostile forces. The TV series is based on the theatrical film `Stargate’.

Farscape – is an Australian-American science fiction television series. The series was conceived by Rockne S. O'Bannon and produced by The Jim Henson Company and Hallmark Entertainment. The series concluded with four seasons.

American astronaut John Crichton finds himself thrown across the universe when an experimental mission goes bad. Crichton teams up with a group of rebels involved in an intergalactic battle and begins a journey unlike anything he dreamed was possible while trying to find a way back to Earth.

Stranger Things – is an American science fiction, drama-horror web television series created by the Duffer Brothers and released on Netflix. It currently has three seasons and a fourth season coming up.

When a young boy vanishes, a small town uncovers a mystery involving secret experiments, terrifying supernatural forces and one strange little girl.

Black Mirror – is a British science fiction anthology television series created and written by Charlie Brooker. There are five seasons and a six season has yet to be confirmed.

“Black Mirror” is a contemporary reworking of “The Twilight Zone” with stories that tap into the collective unease about the modern world, with each stand-alone episode a sharp, suspenseful tale exploring themes of contemporary techno-paranoia. Without questioning it, technology has transformed all aspects of our lives; in every home; on every desk; in every palm - a plasma screen; a monitor; a Smartphone – a Black Mirror reflecting our 21st Century existence back at us.

Warehouse 13 – is an American science fiction dramatic comedy television series that premiered on the Syfy network. It concluded with five seasons.

Following an abrupt transfer, Secret Service agents Pete Lattimer and Myka Bering find themselves in the middle of South Dakota at a massive, top-secret storage warehouse that holds every strange artifact, mysterious relic, out-of-this-world object and supernatural souvenir ever found by the U.S. government. Lattimer and Bering’s new task, as directed by the warehouse’s caretaker, longtime agent Artie Nielsen, is to investigate reports of unexplainable and paranormal activity in an effort to secure more peculiar and dangerous objects, and to help Artie manage the warehouse itself.

12 Monkeys – is an American science fiction mystery drama television series created by Terry Matalas and Travis Fickett. It loosely adapts the 1995 film of the same name, which was written by David and Janet Peoples and directed by Terry Gilliam, itself being inspired by Chris Marker’s 1962 featurette La Jetée; the series credits Marker and both Peoples for their original works. The series concluded with four seasons.

A man from the post-apocalyptic future, Cole uses a dangerous, untested method of time travel to get from 2043 to the present day. He is on a mission to locate and rid the world of the source of the plague that will eventually annihilate the human race. Assisting him is Dr. Cassandra Railly, a virologist who must decide whether to do harm in order to save the world – regardless of the fact that she has taken the Hippocratic oath.

The Mandalorian – is an American action adventure space Western web television series created by Jon Favreau and released on Disney+. It is the first live action series in the Star Wars franchise. It currently has one season.

Set five years after the events of Return of the Jedi and 25 years prior to the events of The Force Awakens, it follows Din Djarin —a lone Mandalorian bounty hunter and his exploits beyond the reaches of the New Republic.

Westworld – is an American science fiction Western television series created by Jonathan Nolan and Lisa Joy. Produced by HBO, it is based on the 1973 film of the same name (written and directed by Michael Crichton) and, to a lesser extent, the film’s 1976 sequel Futureworld. The series currently has two seasons and the third season will premiere on March 15, 2020.

Westworld isn’t your typical amusement park. Intended for rich vacationers, the futuristic park – which is looked after by robotic “hosts” – allows its visitors to live out their fantasies through artificial consciousness. No matter how illicit the fantasy may be, there are no consequences for the park’s guests, allowing for any wish to be indulged.

COMEDY

Santa Clarita Diet – is an American zombie dark-comedy web television series created by Victor Fresco, starring Drew Barrymore and Timothy Olyphant. It concluded with three seasons.

Sheila and Joel are ordinary married realtors, living a quiet life, raising their teenage daughter in Santa Clarita, California. Their world unexpectedly changes when Sheila goes through a dramatic transformation that sends her down a road of death and destruction – but leaves her looking and feeling better than ever.

Schitt’s Creek – is a Canadian television sitcom created by Dan and Eugene Levy that premiered on CBC Television. It concluded with six seasons.

In the sitcom “Schitt’s Creek,” a wealthy couple – video store magnate Johnny and his soap opera star wife Moira – suddenly find themselves completely broke. With only one remaining asset, a small town called Schitt’s Creek, which the Roses bought years earlier as a joke, this once-wealthy couple must give up life as they know it. With their two spoiled children in tow and their pampered lives behind them, the Rose family is forced to face their newfound poverty head-on and come together as a family to survive.

Ash vs Evil Dead – is an American comedy horror television series developed by Sam Raimi, Ivan Raimi, and Tom Spezialy for the Starz network filmed in New Zealand. It is set in Raimi’s Evil Dead universe, with Bruce Campbell reprising his role as Ash Williams, and acts as a sequel to the original trilogy, although it doesn’t directly addresses the events of the reboot. It concluded with three seasons.

Ash Williams, now an aging lothario who has successfully avoided responsibility, maturity and heinous villains for the past 30 years. Constantly peering over his shoulder, Ash somehow knew that the Evil Dead would return for him. That day arrives when Ash commits an act of carelessness, unleashing a Deadite plague that threatens to destroy mankind.

Good Omens – is a miniseries based on the 1990 novel of the same name by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.

This fantasy series sees fussy angel Aziraphale and loose-living demon Crowley team up to form an unlikely duo. The two have become overly fond of life on Earth, and they are forced into forming an alliance in an attempt to stop the approaching Armageddon. To do that, they have to find the missing Antichrist, an 11-year-old boy who is unaware that he is meant to bring the end of days upon humanity.

SUPERNATURAL

The Haunting of Hill House – is an American anthology supernatural horror drama web television series created and directed by Mike Flanagan; produced by Amblin Television and Paramount Television. The first season is loosely based on the 1959 novel of the same name by Shirley Jackson. A second season with a different story and characters titled The Haunting of Bly Manor, based on the 1898 novella The Turn of the Screw by Henry James, is set to be released in 2020.

It follows siblings who, as children, grew up in what would go on to become the most famous haunted house in the country… Now adults, they are forced back together in the face of tragedy and must finally confront the ghosts of their past. Some of those ghosts still lurk in their minds, while others may actually be stalking the shadows of Hill House.

Kingdom – is a South Korean political period supernatural thriller web television series written by Kim Eun-hee and directed by Kim Seong-hun. It is Netflix’s first original Korean series, which is adapted from the webcomic series The Kingdom of the Gods, which was authored by Kim Eun-hee and drawn by Yang Kyung-il. The second season set to be released on March 13, 2020.

The deceased king rises and a mysterious plague begins to spread; the prince must face a new breed of enemies to unveil the evil scheme and save his people.

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina – is an American supernatural horror web television series developed by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa for Netflix, based on the Archie comic book series of the same name. The series currently has three seasons with a fourth season on the way.

This adaptation of the “Sabrina the Teenage Witch” tale is a dark coming-of-age story that traffics in horror and the occult. In the reimagined origin story, Sabrina Spellman wrestles to reconcile her dual nature – half-witch, half-mortal – while standing against the evil forces that threaten her, her family – including aunts Hilda and Zelda – and the daylight world humans inhabit.

Sleepy Hollow – is an American supernatural drama television series that aired on Fox. The series is loosely based on the short story “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” by Washington Irving with added concepts from “Rip Van Winkle”, also by Irving. The series concluded with four seasons. However, I personally stopped watching the show at season three. I won’t say why as that would be a spoiler, but I was upset at what they did to the characters/actors. I knew it wouldn’t the same after that.

Ichabod Crane awakes from the throes of death 250 years in the future where he must solve a mystery dating back to the founding fathers. Due to a blood spell cast on a battlefield during the Revolution, the infamous headless horseman is revived along with Crane, and the murderous rider embarks on a bloody rampage in present-day Sleepy Hollow. Ichabod realizes that he must act quickly, for the headless horseman is only the first of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Detective Abbie Mills, a woman familiar with supernatural experiences, forms a bond with Crane as they try to stop an increasingly vicious cycle of evil.

SUPERHERO FICTION

The Boys – is an American superhero web television series based on the comic book of the same name by Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson. It was developed by Eric Kripke for Amazon. It currently has one season and has been renewed for a second season.

Superheroes are often as popular as celebrities, as influential as politicians, and sometimes even as revered as gods. But that’s when they’re using their powers for good. What happens when the heroes go rogue and start abusing their powers? When it’s the powerless against the super powerful, the Boys head out on a heroic quest to expose the truth about the Seven and Vought, the multibillion-dollar conglomerate that manages the superheroes and covers up their dirty secrets.

Doom Patrol – is an American web television series created by Jeremy Carver for DC Universe. Based on the DC Comics superhero team of the same name, the series features Jane (Diane Guerrero), Rita Farr (April Bowlby), Vic Stone (Joivan Wade), Larry Trainor (Matt Bomer/Matthew Zuk), Cliff Steele (Brendan Fraser/Riley Shanahan), and the Chief (Timothy Dalton) as the members of the eponymous Doom Patrol. The series currently has one season, but a second season is coming in 2020 on both DC Universe and HBO Max.

Doom Patrol is a team of traumatized and downtrodden superheroes, each of whom has suffered a horrible accident that gave them superhuman abilities but also left them scarred and disfigured. The members of the team have found their purpose through The Chief and have come together to investigate some of the world’s weirdest phenomena. After The Chief mysteriously disappears, though, the reluctant heroes find themselves called to action by Cyborg, who comes to them with a mission that they cannot refuse. Doom Patrol – part support group, part superhero team – is a band of superpowered freaks fighting for a world that wants nothing to do with them.

Watchmen – is an American superhero drama limited television series that continues the 1987 DC Comics series Watchmen, created by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons.

It takes place in Tulsa, Oklahoma, 34 years after the original story. After a white supremacist attack on the local police department, which leaves only two surviving cops on the beat, laws are passed that allow the cops to hide their identities behind masks. One of these cops, Angela Abar, adopts the identity of Sister Night and fights racists while dealing with the decades-long legacy of the vigilantes.

Legion – is an American cable television series created for FX by Noah Hawley, based on the Marvel Comics character David Haller / Legion. The series concluded with three seasons.

David Haller is a troubled young man who was diagnosed with schizophrenia as a child. Shuffled from one psychiatric institution to the next, in his early 30s, David met and fell in love with a beautiful and troubled fellow patient named Syd. After a startling encounter with her, he was forced to confront the shocking possibility that the voices he hears and the visions he sees may actually be real. Syd led David to Melanie Bird, a demanding but nurturing therapist who heads a team of specialists – Ptonomy, Kerry, and Cary – each of whom possesses a unique and extraordinary gift. Together, they helped David to recognize and harness his hidden abilities and unlock a deeply suppressed truth – he had been haunted his entire life by a malicious parasite of unimaginable power.

#ask #anon #anonymous #tv shows #television shows #tv show recs #tv show recommendations #anon ask #anonymous ask #tv #television

[hellimagines]

Right Decision -- James Patrick March

*My masterlist link can be found in my blog description*

Request: “James March having an affair with The Countess’s sister HCs,,like he’s married to elizabeth but then her sister and he immediately falls in love her”

Summary: You come to visit your sister in Los Angeles, only to find love instead.

Warnings: None

Pairing: James Patrick March x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,000+

A/N: This is my first one-shot/imagine in months. So uhhhh rip.

Walking into The Cortez was like something out of a flicker. The ceiling seemed to never stop, the chairs and red carpet sparkled with elegance, and the faintest smell of illegal champagne lingered in the air. It was nothing compared to the hotels in your hometown of West Virginia. A sharp ring broke you out of your daze, and you glanced around the hotel lobby for the source of it.

“Over here, miss!” Looking over to the voice, you grinned when you found the reception desk with a young gentleman behind it.

Hurrying over, you plopped your suitcase to your feet and gave him a gentle wave. “Hello! I’m here to visit my sister, Elizabeth Johnson,” you smiled.

“Oh, yes, of course. Miss (Y/N) Johnson, I presume?”

You nodded, “Yes. Though you must forgive me, I am a few hours early.”

“That’s quite alright, we’ve assured your room has been ready since yesterday,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s no fee, and here is your room key. Room 72 is where you shall be staying.”

“Thank you very much!” The man was quick to give you directions to your room before sending you on your way.

Navigating the hotel was much more difficult than the gentleman made it out to be. Once you had stepped out of the elevator and onto your floor, you were amazed by the twisting hallways and various doors. Gripping your suitcase tightly, you began to march down the hall, reading each of the numbered doors carefully. You took a right, and then a left, and then another right until you found yourself in a door-less hallway.

“Oh bother,” you sighed, doing a 360-turn in hopes of redirecting yourself. “Where is that room?”

“May I be of assistance?”

You jumped and let out a loud yelp at the unexpected voice, immediately lifting your suitcase as a form of defense. “Who are you?” you immediately questioned when you turned and saw the strange man that had been speaking to you. However, the more you looked at him, the less strange he became. He had perfectly styled jet-black hair, a mustache lining his upper lip, deep brown eyes, a suit, and a cane he was twirling in his hand.

“James Patrick March, owner and creator of this hotel,” he introduced, holding out his hand for you to shake. “I meant not to scare you, my dear. This hotel is tricky, and I wouldn’t want someone as beautiful as yourself getting lost.”

You shook his hand as a blush danced across your cheeks. “Oh, my apologies, sir. I meant no disrespect.”

He laughed softly, “None taken.” Lifting your hand to his lips, your blush deepened as he grazed the back of your hand with a gentle kiss. “What room are you staying at, my dear?”

“Room 72,” you answered with a smile as James dropped your hand gracefully.

“Would you like me to escort you there, Miss…”

“(Y/N), you may call me (Y/N). And yes, that would be much appreciated!”

“Ah, wonderful! Miss (Y/N),” James held out his arm for you to take while picking up your suitcase in his free hand.

You bit your lip as you looped your arm through his, thanking him for his generosity quietly. As the two of you walked down the hallways, you were embarrassed to find that you had accidentally passed your hotel room during your impromptu adventure.

“Oh, how embarrassing,” you sighed, releasing James’ arm so you could cover your flushed face. “I must’ve passed this room a hundred times!”

“Nonsense, you would’ve had to be here for hours,” he grinned, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “I trust you have your key?”

“Yes, I do. Thank you very much for your help, Mr. March. I apologize for taking you away from your duties,” you apologized, sliding the key into your door and unlocking it. “If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please inform me. I shall be here for a week, at the least.”

James shook his head quickly, “There are no need for apologies, my dear. I am more than happy to assist you with anything you desire.” A glint fell upon his chocolate eyes, and your breath hitched slightly.

You pushed open your hotel-room door and walked in, with James following close behind. He placed your suitcase by the door as you began to speak, “Well, I shall be sure to ask you if I need anything else while I’m here. Where may I find you, if such a thing happens?”

A smile lit up the man’s face, “My office is Room 64, just down the hall from you. You should not get lost finding it,” he teased, flashing you a wink.

“Yes, I sure hope not,” you giggled.

James sighed quietly, a crestfallen look now on his face. “Well, I suppose I must take my leave. It has been an absolute pleasure, Miss (Y/N). I do hope you enjoy your stay at The Cortez.”

“I do believe I shall.” James grabbed ahold of your hand once again and gave the back of it a lingering kiss.

“Until we meet again.”

--

“What do you mean the owner of this hotel helped you to your room?” Elizabeth asked sharply, leaning over the table to stare you down. You rolled your eyes at her antics, swirling the ice cubs in your glass.

“I was lost, so Mr. March showed me where to go,” you shrugged, looking around the lounge you were seated in. It was truly magnificent; the way it overlooked the bustling lobby, the beautiful lighting of the ‘fake’ bar, and the plush chairs you were seated in. You could’ve stayed in the lounge for days.

“Are you an idiot?” Elizabeth hissed, glaring at you.

You scoffed, “No, of course not. What is your problem this time, sister?”

“He’s my husband!”

You nearly choked on your sip of water at her declaration, staring at her wide-eyed. “What? You said you hated the man you’re married to! How could you possibly hate a man like that?” you gasped, setting your cup down to better scrutinize the woman before you.

“Because I am not young and naive like you,” she growled, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Don’t ever talk to him again.”

“Why shouldn’t I? He was very nice and extremely helpful,” you huffed, sticking your nose up just the slightest bit. You couldn’t tell if your sister was being jealous, possessive, or protective over you and the man, but you couldn’t care less. She had no right to dictate your life

“Because I said so, (Y/N). Now, I have a meeting with an old friend of mine, so I have to leave you behind. Do not leave this hotel, and do not talk to James. Understood?”

“Yes,” you sighed, picking up your glass and continuing to swish the ice cubs, feeling like a small child under your sister’s gaze. Elizabeth nodded in approval before pushing away from the table and swiftly exiting the lounge. You watched as she walked down the grand stairs and left the hotel, not bothering to look back at you.

“I do hope you don’t plan on taking her advice.” You looked over the rim of your glass to find James seating himself across from you, frowning sadly. “I enjoy your company.”

You smiled and set your cup back down. “I don’t listen to my sister. Her concerns are her own.”

James grinned greatly at your words, before flicking two fingers at the bartender. He flashed you a wink as the man brought over two glasses filled with a green liquid. “Keep this a secret, my dear,” James said to you, before picking up his glass and taking a sip. He moaned quietly as the liquid fell to his tongue, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

You judged your own glass for a few seconds, before shrugging and taking a light sip. You recoiled almost immediately, blanching at the foreign taste hitting your tongue. “What is this, Mr. March?”

“Please, call me James. And it is my father’s liquor recipe,” he smirked, taking another sip of his drink. “It is an acquired taste, I must admit. But it does marvelous things. However, the small amount in your cup will not hurt you, I promise.” You nodded slowly at James’ reassurance, before giving the liquor another chance.

A few hours later, you found yourself giggling quietly in James’ office, running your fingers over his desk and its many items. He was sat in his office chair, watching you with a fond smile as you picked up his letter opener. James rarely allowed people in his office, but seeing the way your eyes lit up after a glass and a half of his liquor, he knew you would be safer with him. He had plans of going out for a hunt tonight since Elizabeth was gone, but it was clear now that that was not going to happen.

“This is so sharp, James. You could cut someone with it,” you hummed off-handedly, twirling the opener in your hand.

James quirked an eyebrow at your words, watching you handle it carefully. “Yes, I suppose you could. Have you ever thought of doing something like that?” he asked slowly, drumming his fingers against his chair.

“Only a few times. The boys back home don’t know how to treat a lady, and sometimes I get very sick of it,” you admitted, before placing the opener back where you found it. “I must say, this is a very beautiful hotel.”

“Thank you, my dear. I put much of my energy into it, and I’m glad to see how far it’s come,” he smiled, slowly standing up.

You sighed sadly as you looked around the room, before settling your gaze on the man before you. “I do not understand how my sister could not love you.”

James chuckled quietly, “Yes, well, we all have our faults.” He didn’t seem too bothered by the fact, which shocked you.

“Her faults are moronic. I do not enjoy talking ill of Elizabeth, but it is unavoidable. You are a very kind, generous, and handsome man. She’s just entitled,” you huffed, giving James another look-over, before turning away to continue looking around the room.

“Oh, you believe me to be handsome?” James smirked, walking over to stand beside you.

“Oh yes, very much so. I’ve never seen a man quite like you before. It’s… intoxicating,” you giggled, blushing at your openness.

James smiled in return and placed his hands on your waist, slowly pulling you closer. He gave you the opportunity to reject his advances, but you did no such thing. Instead, you placed your hands on his chest, tilting your head up at him curiously. “You are a nice breath of fresh air, my love. Much different than your sister. Where she is sharp-edges and crude glances, you are gentle touches and bright smiles.”

“You’ve only known me for a few hours, James,” you breathed, blinking up at him in wonder. “How could you be sure of such a thing?”

“Trust me, darling. I’m always sure of what I do.” James paused for a moment, looking down at you in adoration. Slowly, he placed his palm against your cheek, “May I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whispered without hesitation. Instantly, James was pulling you up and ducking his head, granting your lips a soothing kiss. Instinctively, you whimpered, your eyes falling shut as he deepened the kiss.

When James pulled away, there was a content look on his face while he rubbed his thumb over your cheekbone. “Yes, I am very sure I’ve made the right decision this time.”

--

All Writing Taglist (OPEN): @teageowen @mads---world @alex--awesome--22 @scarletraine @hxdesworld @frozenhuntress67 @samanthasmileys @simonsaysyasss @michael-langdxn

American Horror Story Taglist (OPEN): @featherpool-852

#james patrick march #james march #james patrick march imagine #james patrick march x reader #james patrick march imagines #james march imagine #james march imagines #james march x reader #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs imagines #ahs x reader #american horror story #ahs hotel

[coffeeandcasefiles-blog]

“Keep an Eye on the Skies” - Who Called Gary Sudbrink?

"You’re being impersonated by the other voice.”

--

Gary Sudbrink was an Air Force Captain working as a pharmacist in San Antonio, Texas. In February 1993, Gary planned a surprise trip to visit his friends and family in his hometown of Long Island, NY. 

At his parent’s house, Gary made a phone call to his long-time friend, Mike. Gary expressed that he was back in Long Island and looked forward to making plans to see Mike. Mike, on the other hand, was very confused. 

Mike expressed to Gary that they had already spoken the day before, and that Gary had told him that he had just flown in to Laguardia Airport, and that they would not be able to get together as Gary was coming down with a cold. Gary, equally confused, told Mike that he had flown into JFK, not Laguardia, and that he was perfectly healthy. The two friends did not make plans to see each other. 

During this phone call, a beeping noise indicated that a call was waiting on the other line. Gary picked up, and began to record the call when a deep, strange, mechanical voice greeted him. 

 RECORDING OF CALL #1

GARY: I’ll tell you who it is.

VOICE: Hello?

GARY: Yeah. Do you want to speak to him?

VOICE: Is Gary Sud–Sudbrink there?

GARY: Yeah, who’s this? Steven? Are you playing games with me or what?

GARY: Huh? Steven if you’re playing games here, I’m going to kick your ass.

VOICE: So how long are you going to be back from Texas?

GARY: Huh?

VOICE: You’re being impersonated by the other voice.

GARY: Yeah this is you Steven—you idiot. You’re pissing me off. Jerk. I’m gonna get you on…let’s see what it says. Review. One new call. Out of area? Is Steven out of the area?

VOICE (interrupts): How long are you going to be back from Texas?

GARY: Wait, say that again.

VOICE: You’re being impersonated by the other voice.

GARY: Wait, hold on. Is Steven out of the calling area or what?

MOM: How do I know?

GARY: What do you mean, you don’t know? He’s in Queens.

DAD: Well who are you talking to?

GARY: I don’t know who the f*** I’m talking to…

VOICE (interrupts): Hello?

MOM: Hello?

VOICE: Is Gary Sud–Sudbrink there?

MOM: Who is this?

GARY (in background): Let me talk to him.

MOM: Somebody sounds like a robot.

GARY: Hello?

VOICE: How long are you going to be back from Texas?

GARY: What was that again, sir?

VOICE: You’re being impersonated by the other voice.

GARY (to family): Oh be quiet—else, eh? Sorry, will you say that again?

GARY: Hello? I’m being impersonated by what voice?

VOICE: Hello?

GARY: Yeah. Hello?

VOICE: Is Gary Sud–Sudbrink there?

GARY: Yeah, hold on a second.

MOM: Who is that?

GARY: It’s Steven. Okay. Yeah what is your question? I’ll answer it.

DAD (in background): …a strange voice.

VOICE: So how long are you going to be back from Texas?

GARY: How long–

VOICE (interrupts): You’re being impersonated by the other voice.

GARY: Right. When am I coming back? Is that your question?

VOICE (quieter voice): Sudbrink there?

DAD (in background): What’s a matter with you?

GARY: Okay there was a break, hold on. You wanna know when I’m coming back to Texas. Uh, is that your question?

VOICE: So how long are you going to be back from Texas?

GARY: How long am I going to be back from Texas…

VOICE (interrupts): You’re being impersonated by the other voice.

GARY (talking overtop): …that question doesn’t even make any sense.

GARY: Okay. I’ll be coming back eventually. Um…I can’t tell you when. You should know that question—the answer to the question because you seem to know more about me than I do. You know what I’m saying?

DAD: Are you a…intergalactic…uh…person?

GARY: Are you a space alien?

DAD: Sounds like he hung up.

GARY: I can’t believe this.

DAD: It’s—he hung up Gary.

GARY: See if he comes back.

DAD: Alright, I’ll hang up.

(Dial tone.)

GARY: Jesus Christ. Oh my God man. I’m calling Mike back.

(Two beeps on the dial pad.)

Gary suspected that his younger brother, Steven, was simply playing a prank on him. Steven was never considered a prankster, but this seemed like it could be the only explanation for the oddity that was taking place. 

Only a few minutes later, the phone rang again. 

RECORDING OF CALL #2

GARY: What is your question?

(Unidentified beep)

GARY: Yes, uh speaking.

VOICE: Is this Gary Sudbrink?

GARY: Yes.

GARY: Could I answer any questions for you?

VOICE: Are you back from Texas–ss?

GARY: I’m not back yet. No.

VOICE: How long are you going to be back from Texas?

GARY: Let me answer…first you tell me—where are you calling from?

VOICE: Is this Gary Sudbrink?

GARY: Yeah. Why don’t you tell me where you’re calling from?

VOICE: Who is this?

GARY: What do you mean who is this? You should know who it is. It’s me, Gary.

GARY: Uhhh… Wait, let me…let me ask you this question. Where are you calling from?

GARY: Okay, I’ll be back—

VOICE (interrupts): Keep an eye on the skies.

GARY: Excuse me?

VOICE: Near Orion.

GARY: I can’t hear too well.

VOICE: The full moon.

GARY: Yeah there’s a full moon out, that’s true.

(Sound of someone hanging up on the other line.)

GARY: Could you identify yourself?

GARY: Identify yourself.

DAD: Ask him what’s the purpose of the call.

GARY: Why are you calling me?

VOICE (interrupts): Keep an eye on the skies.

GARY: Excuse me?

VOICE: Near Orion.

GARY: I cannot hear too well.

DAD: Get on the other phone, it’s better.

GARY: Hold on, let me switch phones.

(Sound of other phone being picked up.)

GARY: Okay. Okay hold on. Now who are you?

VOICE: Keep an eye on the skies.

GARY: Keep an eye on the sky he said.

DAD: Keep an eye on the sky?

GARY: Yeah.

VOICE: Orion.

DAD: Ask him can I talk to him–

GARY: …shhh…shhh…

DAD: I had a sighting already–

GARY: …okay, hold on. Say that…repeat that again?

GARY: Please repeat?

VOICE: Keep an eye on the skies.

GARY: Okay.

VOICE: Near Orion.

GARY: Near Orion.

DAD: Holy Mackerel. Tonight or this a when—

VOICE (interrupts): The full moon.

GARY: The full moon.

DAD (in background): They talk…they hung up…

VOICE: Show double of you.

DAD (in background): Keep an eye on the sky near Orion…

GARY: Repeat?

DAD: Tell him I’d like to talk to him.

GARY: Okay…repeat…repeat last word?

(Static on the telephone line.)

GARY: I’m hearing static.

DAD: Tell him I’d like to talk to him.

(Sound of caller disconnecting.)

GARY: He hung up.

DAD: He hung up?

GARY: Hello?

It is understood that Gary’s father is a UFO-believer, and he talks of a UFO-sighting he once had with Gary’s uncle. 

Later that same night, a 3rd phone call came in. 

RECORDING OF CALL #3

GARY: Okay. Yeah, it’s taking time for him to talk. Who is this?

(Sound of someone picking up the other line.)

GARY: Steven, I’m gonna—this is not funny you know.

VOICE (barely audible): Who is this?

DAD: Brian, it’s not Steven.

GARY: What do you mean Brian?

DAD: I mean, uh…Gary.

GARY: How do I know it’s not Steven?

DAD: It’s not Steven.

DAD: Hello? I had a, uh…UFO experience in West Virginia, which you probably know. And I know that you’re inter…uh…an intergalactic person.

VOICE (unintelligible)

DAD: Can you speak a little louder? Sir? Can you speak a little louder?

VOICE: (unintelligible)

DAD: Louder?

GARY: Let me speak to him, Dad. I guess, I don’t know…

DAD: Okay I’ll hang up so you can talk to him. He wants to talk to you.

GARY: Okay.

(Sound of the other line hanging up.)

GARY: Hello? Can I help you?

VOICE (louder than before): Hello?

GARY: Yes.

VOICE: Is Gary Sudbrink there?

GARY: Yes, that’s me.

VOICE (fainter again): Here is Gary Sudbrink.

GARY: Yes, could you please identify yourself?

GARY: Identify—

VOICE (faint, interrupts): Are you back from Texas–ss?

GARY: Yeah I’m back. I’m in Texas right now.

(Sound of Gary’s dad in the background.)

GARY: Well, he asked me a question.

VOICE: (unintelligible, possibly “How are long are you?”)

GARY: No I’m in New York right now. You know that. Why are you asking me such a question?

DAD (in background): …Assuming he’s going to call back three times in a row, what are you going to do?

VOICE: Is this Gary Sudbrink?

GARY: Yes. Steven if this is you, I’m…I swear to God I’m gonna be pissed.

(Sound of Gary’s dad in the background.)

VOICE: Who is this?

GARY: Huh?

(Static on the line.)

DAD (in background): It’s not Steven.

GARY: I’m trying to listen to him. Who are…excuse me?

DAD (in background): You keep playing games with Steven and it’s not Steven—

MOM (in background): Well, shut the hell up.

(Intense static on the line.)

GARY: Okay. Eventually I’ll be back from Texas. Could you speak more? Please speak more.

(Intense static on the line.)

VOICE (barely audible): …eye on the skies…

GARY: I guess it’s not Steven. I believe it because I’m getting static.

DAD: Steven would not leave three times.

GARY: Let…let me go on this phone because I could never hear on this phone. Hold on.

(Sound of the other telephone line picked up, followed by a quick beep.)

GARY: Okay. Okay, please speak. Hello?

VOICE (louder than before, but still soft): Keep an eye on the skies.

(Sound of writing or scratching, followed by another quick beep.)

GARY: Okay, should I go out right now?

VOICE (interrupts): Orion.

GARY: Right now?

VOICE: The full moon.

GARY: Okay, see…I’m not sure where Orion is now, but we’ll go outside.

VOICE: Show double from you.

GARY: It will show double from me?

(Static on the line.)

GARY: Repeat that again?

(Static on the line.)

(Caller hangs up.)

(Gary hangs up.)

Gary and his family were beginning to get uneasy at this point. Gary told his father of a strange occurrence that had taken place at the airport on his trip back home. A man apparently had approached Gary with a clipboard and asked him questions in a fast, but friendly, tone. What was his name, did he live in Texas, where was he going? Gary brushed the man off and assumed he was just taking a survey. However, when he boarded the plane, a different man sat beside him and bombarded Gary with the same questions as the other man. Before Gary could get a word in, a flight attendant approached the man and told him he was in the wrong seat.

Gary did not see either of these men when departing the plane. 

 The next day, a fourth and final call came in.

RECORDING OF CALL #4

VOICE (with more reverb and echo): Is Gary Sudbrink there?

GARY: Yes, this is me. Can I speak to…can I ask why—

VOICE: Is Gary Sudbrink there?

GARY: Yes, can I ask why you’re calling?

(Static on the line.)

GARY: Can I please ask—

VOICE: Is this Gary Sudbrink?

GARY: Yes, this is.

VOICE: Gary Sudbrink.

GARY: Yes, that is me.

(Static on the line.)

VOICE: We come. To be within this planet

GARY: Say that again?

VOICE: In this planet.

GARY: Leave?

(Unknown sounds.)

VOICE: We come.

GARY: I’m standing right here.

VOICE: To be within this planet.

GARY: Is this a joke or what?

(A whirring sound on the line.)

VOICE: To visit the many. To be contacted. As the same. With you.

(Sound of door being shut in the background.)

GARY: Umm…

(Static and whirring sound on the line.)

GARY: I have to think about that. I’d like to see you—

VOICE (interrupts): To visit the many. To be contacted. As the same. With you.

UNCLE: Hey, let me tell you something. I’ve been listening to you. And I’ve had contacts with you.

VOICE: Beware. Government interference.

GARY: Government interference?

(Static on the line.)

VOICE (faint): You—

GARY: You have? Please explain what type of interference.

(Whirring sound on the line.)

VOICE: Beware.

GARY: Okay.

VOICE: Government interference. Visitations to be disrupted by them.

(Strange unidentified sound on the line.)

VOICE: (…unintelligible, faint…) …appears. The sun will rise on…dark side of moon. World. Know.

UNCLE: The sun will rise…

VOICE: (…unintelligible…)

UNCLE: ..on the dark side of the moon?

GARY: Okay, umm…

VOICE (very low…unintelligible…maybe “on the moon”)

GARY: What branch of the government?

(Intense static on the line.)

VOICE (very low): Show double from you.

(Intense static on the line.)

GARY: What uhh…what should I do?

(Intense static on the line.)

VOICE: Beware. Government interference. Visitations to be disrupted by them.

GARY: Okay. Is that good for me or bad?

(Caller disconnects the call.)

GARY: They hung up.

Dad (in background): So, did you get…?

UNCLE: Yes. Uh.

This was the last time they heard from the unknown caller. Since this event took place, nobody has ever admitted to making the phone calls or knows of the origin. 

Who called Gary Sudbrink, and why?

--

#truecrime #crime #scary #horror #horrorfacts #scaryfacts #paranormal #garysudbrink #unknown #ghosts #alien #aliens #ufo #extraterrestrial #coffee #creepy #creepyfacts #urbanlegend #conspiracy #conspiracy theory #unsolved #unsolved mysteries #scarymovie #buzzfeed unsolved #mystery #journalism #research #studyblr #casefiles

[ladyfl4me]

The Moth who Came In from the Cold

(yes, the title is a Cold War novel reference. and yes, it’s plot relevant. believe me)

tw: brief descriptions of gore.

November 22, 1963

Dallas, Texas

12:23 p.m.

Man, he was tired.

It was the kind of tired that came from sour drugstore coffee and aching arches, misread weather reports, indigestion, stress. Something bone-deep: something he hadn't felt since the early days of training camp, and something he never wanted to feel again. Damn the weather. Texas had no right being this warm in November. It was a Friday afternoon, the end of his first week on the job, and destiny really had to cut him some fucking slack.

He checked his watch. 12:24.

Behind him, he could sense the crowd shifting, murmuring. Somewhere, a baby started crying. All around, coats were off and draped over the metal barriers, and the sun gleamed on tie pins and pearls. Nothing but the Sunday best for the President. The Secret Service agent grumbled something incoherent and curled his toes inside his shoes. 12:25. They said it was going to rain all day, and here they were, 67 degrees and sunny as the light shining out of God's asshole. Wonderful. He was sweating so much in his damn overcoat that he was about to dissolve. Not his fault that he was born and raised in West Virginia. Appalachian Novembers were brutal, but he was used to them. He was used to Novembers being chilly as the Arctic, not balmy and warm.

Man, fuck Texas.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir?"

He summoned a bland Secret Agent smile and turned to face the voice: thin, faint, a bit shaky. Probably a nervous young teenage boy - the precocious type, a bit antsy, with freckles across his nose and his tie pulled up snug against his neck, with his school knapsack on his back and some ink stains smudging his fingers. Neat-combed hair and pressed pants. The kind of kid who would sooner staple his tongue than swear. Nervous and excited to see the President, and full of questions and bullshit and -

The bland smile froze on his face.

No rosy-cheeked, nervous-smiling up-and-coming student senator stood before him. Instead, the agent looked up, and up: he was face to face with a man nearly a foot taller than him - and at six foot two himself, that was no easy feat - with long, black-streaked white hippie hair pulled back in a ponytail. All sharp, hunching lines, an anxious downturned mouth, a bit gaunt and wrinkled and -

He wore red-lensed sunglasses that the agent could easily see his own reflection in. He also wore an old secondhand army parka, battered and torn, with what looked like several sweaters underneath - enough to withstand a blizzard, and keep him warm. Not good for nearly 70-degree weather.

12:26.

"Sir," said the man.

The agent said, "Who are you?”

"Who are you?" the man said, at precisely the same time.

The agent blinked.

"Sorry," the man said again, laughing nervously. His hands, jammed deep inside the pockets of his parka, flexed. The agent's hand drifted towards his gun. "Sir. Agent."

That puckered, nervous half-smile twitched and faded completely. Now the man before him was serious. A strange chill went down the agent's spine, like a breath of cold wind. "You have to believe me when I say this," said the gaunt man. "But -"

The man's cheek twitched, a convulsive half-aborted movement that sent off alarm bells in his mind. The agent's eyes skimmed over the man again - gaunt, pale, twitchy, long hair - and gripped his gun tighter. "Sir, I'm not sure you understand precisely what's going on," he said slowly. The man's attention drifted back to him; he had been watching the road. "The President of the United States is going to be coming through here in... approximately -"

"Four minutes," they said together.

"Yes, I know," the man said. His hands slowly emerged from his pockets, all long pale fingers that made the agent's skin crawl to see them. The fingers, faintly stained yellow, twitched; the agent surreptitiously took a deep breath, nostrils flaring to test the air. No skunklike odor; not a pot-smoker, then. What was this man's fix? "Two minutes now, actually. Agent." The agent frowned, blinked, and glanced at the clock tower. 12:28.

Hands seized the lapels of his jacket.

The agent was jerked around to see the pale man's face nearly against his. He had a long, pointed nose, and his skin was clammy - feverish, almost. The agent half-drew his gun. Next to him, a mother saw the altercation and grabbed her young son's shoulder in a vicelike grip. "Come along, Edmund -"

"But Mom -"

"Sir, you must listen to me," the man breathed, and his grip on the front of the agent's jacket shook.

"Edmund, come here this instant, I'm serious."

"Mister, if you don't let go of me immediately, I'm going to be forced to take action," the agent whispered fiercely. "You're -"

"Disturbing the people." Their words overlapped yet again. "I know, I know, and I am sorry," the man said softly. This close, his breath reeked of nutmeg and vanilla, and dust. "But I must - I - sir, I'm so sorry, but you have to believe me - at 12:30, the President is going to be shot and killed."

The agent's blood went cold. "How do you know?" he heard himself demand. "How do you -"

Faint cheers down the road.

"He's going to be shot, from the top floor of the Depository, sir, you have to believe me," the man demanded, his voice growing louder. "You just have to -"

The distant roar of an engine.

Now, this close, the agent could just barely see through those near-opaque red lenses, and behind: eyes wide with panic, pupils - pupils narrow and... He couldn't focus. He couldn't. Behind him the cheers grew louder, before him the man's shaking grew stronger, nervous sweat beginning to bead on his pale, corpse-like skin - and he knew the smell on the man's breath, now. Eggnog. Christmas was coming. Eggnog - he knew that smell. Christ alive, was this man drunk? There were dots swirling in his vision, in his mind, and he tried to connect them because it was 12:29, and there was nothing he could do.

"Sir," he said, his voice calmer than he felt. "I'm afraid you're drunk."

The man let out a slow, shuddering breath.

The agent holstered his gun, and reached for the handcuffs clipped to his belt. First week on the job, he told himself. First week. Bagged a maniac at the President's motorcade. Look at you go. He said sternly, "Let go of me and put your hands in front of you -"

12:30.

Shots rang out. The spectators screamed. The agent whipped around, and the nervous man's grip slipped away - "Edmund, don't look, sweetie, don't look," said the woman, clapping her hands over the boy's eyes.

"Mom, my name -"

"Now isn't the time, Edmund, please," said a man that was probably his father, grabbing his wife's shoulder and dragging her back and away. "Oh, Christ..."

"My name is Ned, momma -"

"Edmund, stop it! "

The agent froze, and all he could do was stare. Three tons of sleek black metal screamed past - blood splattered like gravy from a shattered tureen at Thanksgiving all across the cream interior, Jackie frozen in tableau reaching out, reaching back, something red and glistening in her hand - and God, the blood -

First week on the job. First week. First week, and this is what he gets - a dead president, on his watch, right in front of him, and nobody could have seen this coming -

"Hey! Hey, mister!"

There was tugging on the bottom of his too-warm, too-thick, thrice-damned to hell and back overcoat. "Edmund, get back here!" his father snapped.

"Hey, mister, that guy!" the kid said. Goddamn, no more than eight years old, not fazed at all by John Fucking Kennedy getting his head blown off twenty feet away from him, staring up at him with a set jaw and a serious glint in his eyes. Kids. Holy hell. "That guy, the one who grabbed you! He's -"

The kid pointed off into the crowd. The agent's head jerked up, and he saw the black-streaked white ponytail vanishing into the crowd. He grabbed his gun. "Thanks, kid," he said.

"My name's -"

"Ned, fine, thank you Ned -" The agent surged forward, shouldering his way through the crowd. "Secret Service coming through, move, ladies and gentlemen, I said move! " he barked. From far behind, he thought he heard the young boy shout something, but it was lost in the crowd. Voices, shouting, screaming -

He pressed on. Following that ponytail, and that pea-green army jacket, and the glint of red glasses in storefronts. Overhead, the sun beat down like an unforgiving lamp in the cloudless sky - no longer drowning him in heat, but dragging something heady and hot from his bones. Energy he thought he'd lost. That drugstore coffee finally kicking in. First week, his footsteps sang as he ran down the street: first week, first week, a president shot, and a case solved, maybe, with your name on it, in your first week, first goddamn week!

And it seemed like it would be simple, then, in that moment: the man in the seven sweaters and army jacket did not seem to know he was being followed, he did not know - his pace was slowing, those long and lanky legs of his buckling and stumbling. He seemed weary, already, and the agent felt a brief stab of sympathy, until he caught a glimpse of that man's pale pointed face in a storefront again -

"At 12:30, the President is going to be shot -"

He clicked the safety off his gun. The man knew. God, he knew something. First week, first week. He forced his legs to pump faster. Ahead, the man wove around a streetlamp and jumped over some garbage cans on the curb, almost seeming to take flight in that instant - the coat, unbuttoned, spread behind him like wings, and the shadow on the pavement seemed almost impossibly large.

And then the walkie talkie on his belt crackled.

"Agent Stern, this is Davis. Report your position. Over."

He hadn't expected that, the voice of his commanding officer, and it made him stumble - and ahead of him, so did the pale man in the green jacket. Right over a crack in the pavement, and into a storefront, so hard that the glass pane rattled and his glasses slid off the end of his nose -

And his body began to - to change.

(Decades later, when he told his children and nephews and nieces this story, he still found it hard to find the words to describe it. Like looking in a funhouse mirror, he said once, but no, that was not it - funhouse mirrors distorted what was there and made it something impossible, but something recognizable through it all. Your face, your bones, your clothes. This, this had no roots in anything that he knew. Nothing he could see, nothing of this world: like seeing shadow take shape and reach out with a grasping hand; like the moon growing eyes and following you with its new sight. It - he could never find the words. So he just told them what he saw. And with every word, he wished he could find a real, true metaphor to fit what he saw, there in the stark November sun on a street corner in Dallas, Texas.

Because the cold stark truth was hardly believable.)

It began with the shoulders: the first part that Stern could see, with this man's back to him. The fabric bulged and twisted, as if something was trying to punch its way out from underneath; the man's back hunched, as if in pain, and his skeletal-fingered hand dug into the pavement -

And the hands too began to change: melding, growing, becoming almost grotesquely long and hooked. The arms followed, becoming spindly as sticks and growing far out of the sleeves of his coat, thin enough that Stern could reach out and break the thickest part of his arm with just one hand. The man's shoulders shook again, as he drew a pained breath. The sound was like a generator powering up in a cave, all echoes and shrieks and God, that sound, it made Stern’s skin crawl like it was on fire-

The man looked over his shoulder.

Stern’s grip on his gun tightened convulsively, and his breath turned to cold steel in his lungs. The face - God, the face. Red, multi-faceted eyes, like rubies sunk into his skull, and a nose growing steadily longer and longer like a  - like a proboscis-

Suddenly the back of the man's coat exploded.

Stern flinched and pulled the trigger. The bullet ricocheted off the concrete and into the glass storefront; it exploded into a million sharp teeth, the sound like a thunderclap -

- as two enormous, batlike wings emerged from the back of the man's coat, casting the street in shadow. "Jesus Christ," Stern gasped, and dropped his gun. The wings swirled like a hurricane, sending the hats in the storefront whirling and twirling on their stands, and the jackets fluttering like dozens of tattered flags, and beat down. The man shot straight up into the sky, into the blinding sun, like a moth flying straight for a lamp.

Somewhere in the glass, scattered across the sidewalk, lay a pair of red sunglasses.

For a long time, Stern stood there and watched the sunlight gleam on them, in pure, shocked silence. First week on the job. First fucking week. Somehow he could only focus on that: that his first week had just ended, and that there was a broken store window in front of him, and for Christ's sake they would probably have to pay for that out of his paycheck -

There were sirens in the distance. Distant voices crackled down the line, stating positions, signals, names and faces. Stern signed and reached for his radio. "On Market and Elm," he sighed, staring at the red sunglasses. He slowly strode through the broken glass, crunching under his boots like new-fallen snow. "Thought I had a lead on a suspect. Fell through."

He examined the sunglasses, and folded them, and gently tucked them into his pocket.

"Over."

keep reading here on ao3

#fic #my fic #writing #taz amnesty #mothman #indrid cold #agent stern #ned chicane #aubrey little #duck newton #the adventure zone #taz: amnesty #amnesty #taz #mcelroys

[lonelylavenderluke]

Curious thoughts//  Chapter two

American Horror Story: Apocalypse

Micheal Langdon x (Cordelia’s daughter) Reader

Rating: small amount of fluff

I sat in front of my mirror, yet the reflection shown wasn’t of my own but of Michael Langdon as we spoke to one another in the safety of our privates rooms at the two schools.

“Why do you think we’re connected?” I asked after a while, he seemed stumped at my question. “I’m not sure which makes me feel uneasy about all of this” he answered truthfully as I thought over it all, “so you don’t want to talk to me then?” I quizzed him in a serious tone. It wasn’t that I disliked being able to see and talk to him on the contrary it made the time that I was on my own more enjoyable.

“I never said that, in fact your one of the most interesting people I’ve met so far in my life” he answered with a smirk as I scoffed rolling my eyes playfully at him, “sweet talking ain’t gonna get you anywhere Langdon” I grinned he chuckled in response to my words. “Should have thought of doing this ages ago, so much easier than appearing where ever you are” I commented remembering all the times I’d randomly appear in his grandmothers house just as I had fallen asleep in my own bed. “Do you remember anything from then?” He asked me his eyes held a look of concern, I paused for a moment allowing my mind to flick back to when I would appear wherever he was, I could only ever remember an elderly woman or being scared of him at times before begging him to send me home.

“I remember your grandmother, I remember you being sad because something happened and then as time went on when we would play, I would get scared of something and then beg for you to send me home” I recited to him as a distant look passed over his face, “what? What is it?” I asked worry dripping from my words. “Nothing... nothing promise me you’ll forget about it, you have to promise me Elisha”he demanded with a stern look which startled me, nodding furiously I swore to forget all about it.

“Tell me about your father?” He asked seemingly calm after his blowout on me, shaking my head slightly I shakily answered “who? Hank?”, he rolled his eyes at me, “no silly, your real father what was he like?” He told me. Smiling sadly I looked away over at the picture of my mother and I together on fourteenth birthday. “My mama called him an angel, said he was the kindest man she had ever met, he had this aura around him that was pure and clean she told me that every time she wa switch him it felt like a breath of fresh air..” I told him my eyes became blurry as I rubbed at them to get rid of any tears there, “he had to leave her just before she found out about me, said his father was calling for him to return home, he wanted to stay with her but it just wasn’t possible so he left leaving only a locket and me for my mama to remember him by” I finished looking back at Michael as he seemed saddened by the story, yet I could tell that the cogs in his brain where turning thinking over what I had just said.

“Their looking for me, they want for me to practise more” he suddenly said standing up quickly I followed swiftly after him, “just be careful please I know about the seven wonders, I’ve lost friends to them, I don’t want to lose you too” I admitted placing my hand on the glass that separated us. “I will besides I’ve still got a few days, will you be there?” He asked placing his hand against my own, “I will, your my friend Michael if you want me there then I will be” I told him smiling as he copied me.

I suddenly felt this weird sensation in my hand that I had against the glass as I saw it disappearing through the glass, I could feel Michael holding onto it as he lifted it up before placing a light kiss to my knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight” he smirked slyly at my shocked expression before letting go of my hand as he faded swiftly being replaced by my own reflection.

I sat there in silence listening to the crackling of the fire as we sat in the library. Everyone was on edge after this mornings incident with the snakes, my mind was racing trying to rationalise everything. I sat on the arm rest beside Emily, I had a hold on her hand she was still uneasy after finding the snakes in her room this morning when she woke up.

We then heard the sounds of footsteps approaching where we were. The sound echoing with each step closer, in my head I was trembling but my body seemed relieved by the arrival of the mysterious visitor.

I turned my head ever so slightly to see the man walk into the room with us, long blonde hair lay elegantly on top of a smart black evening outfit. He seemed to be studying us as he walked round the room to were Venable was standing in front of the fire, immediately I could tell he intended to ensure that he held the highest rank amongst us all just by how the split second interaction between both him and Venable went.

“My name is Langdon, and I represent The Cooperative...I won't sugarcoat the situation, Humanity is on the brink of failure, my arrival here was crucial to the survival of civilized life on Earth. The three other compounds In Syracuse, New York, Beckley, West Virginia, and San Angelo, Texas have been overrun and destroyed, we've had no contact from the six international outposts, but we are assuming that they, too, have been eliminated.” Langdon began to explain to us, I felt guilty for all those who were dead outside of these walls, I felt guilty for the fact I didn’t deserve a place here in the outpost that in fact there were so many brilliantly minded people who had deserved to live more than I did.

“What happened to the people inside?”

“Massacred....The same fate that will befall almost all of you.” Langdon answered bluntly before being cut off by Mallory’s bravery to speak up, “Almost all?”.

“In the knowledge that this very moment might occur, we built a failsafe The Sanctuary.” He went to to explain before also being cut off by Coco,

“The Sanctuary?”

“The Sanctuary is unique.It has certain security measures that will prevent overrun.” He explained his eyes scanning the room, I tried to keep an open mind, since everything about him either scared me or made me want to run to his side and never leave it.

“Excuse me, sir. What measures? Why weren't we given them?” Ms Mead injected into the lecture that we were being given.

“That's classified.All that matters is that The Sanctuary will survive, so the people populating it will survive, so humanity will survive.”

“Who are the people who are populating it? “Also classified. However, I have been sent to determine if any of you are worthy and fit to join us.” He stated as the whole room came to life as we all began mumbling to one another. “The Cooperative has developed a particular and rigorous questioning technique we like to call "Cooperating.I will then use the information gained to determine if you belong.” He added to his dictations.

“What is this, The Hunger Games? This is bullshit.I paid my way in here, and that is the only cooperating I plan on doing.” Coco scoffed at the news of having to earn a place to safety.

“You don't have to sit for questioning.” Langdon replies to Coco’s remarks. “What happens if we choose not to?” Andre inquired curiously.

“Then you stay here and die.” Was the answer.

“I volunteer to go first.” Gallant finally spoke aloud, I glanced at him worriedly. “And so you shall.” Langdon patronised him before looking round at everyone. “The process should only take me a couple of days, so you won't be kept in suspense forever.For those of you who don't make the cut, all is not lost.If the worst should happen and feral cannibals come knocking, down one of these.One minute later, you fall asleep and never wake up.” He then went on filling everyone with dread and fear before taking his leave but not without saying, “I look forward to meeting each and every one of you.” As he disappeared into the shadows of outpost three.

“Well, smooth move, asking to go first.” Coco retorted sarcastically, “There's an old actor's adage.Either go first or go last.” Evie remarked taking a sip of her drink.

“You're not going anywhere.” Coco fires back at the older woman. “Are you suggesting that he is going to pass me up?” Evie demanded, “You're ancient.” Was the argument.

“He's looking for people to repopulate the Earth, - not fill a bingo hall.” Coco backed up her previous statement.

“You know, for someone with the mental capacity of a three-year-old, I suppose 52 might seem ancient.” Evie snarkily commented waiting for Coco to fire back at her, “You were 52 when Elvis took his last shit.” I sighed shaking my head at their childish act, “That's enough!” Gallant demanded voicing a similar opinion to my own. EVIE: Oh, no.Let her spout.I remember a wonderful lunch that I had at Dan Tana's with Natalie Wood.Natalie turned to me and she said, "Evie, you are a survivor.You're gonna outlive us all” And dear Natalie She turned out to be right.Hmm.” Evie sighed dramatically, I quickly get up tired of their bickering and boring stories I swiftly left them room in search of something to do.

I allowed for my feet to carry me where ever they wanted, the idea being perhaps they may know somewhere better in this place than I already did, however I only ever found myself returning to the kitchens were I found Mallory giving me a questioning look as to why I was there.

“I’m bored”

#michael langdon x fem!reader #michael langdon x reader #ahs coven #ahs8 #ahs #ahs apocalypse #american horror story #michael langdon #black magic #magic #cody fern #antichrist