#shitecassidy

“You uh, want to maybe put some pants on or something before we have this conversation, pal?”

The wind dances ; it plays ; it carries scent. It follows suit, where the Wild comes to wander. Silent are his footsteps, soft against the earth. He’s traveled far, and yet --- there is no struggle there, no exhaustion on his face ( a wolf walks ; it wanders, after all ). Merely a curiousness exists, with a head that lifts. A pause, he stops and looks toward the door and sniffs.

Something amiss; the spill of blood familiar --- old --- too old to be just human and the spirit within him wakes. ( The proverbial paw at the door, claws sharp that dig light against the barrier made. ). The thought to stay comes to mind ; perhaps a small insult to the Wild within. He needs to keep his calm, breathe and maintain his stead as he walks inside.

Send ✿ for my muse to climb into bed with yours late at night.

The first time she’d dreamed of the shadows leaning over her, the first time she’d wet the bed, her mama had slapped her across the face. The next few times her mama never knew ‘cos she hid the sheets quickly enough while she was off whoring. Jesse’d made fun of it, but never turned her down when she crawled into bed, bunched up to his side. She’d outgrown the bedwetting by the time they’d gotten back together, but the nightmares remained. Shadowy figures with cigarettes, grabbing her, constricting her, singing her skin. 

She’d had them after Jesse left, but never as bad as this one. The shadow’s voice, a low, masculine hum, was distorted from the sounds of a screaming baby in the background. He burned, he bruised, he abused, all while Tulip struggled to catch sight of the baby, calling for it, screaming for it. 

She woke with a jolt, alone, trembling in a cold sweat. 

She didn’t think about anything as she tossed the covers from her body and shifted out of bed, quickly padding into his makeshift room, where she knew he’d probably sit awake in bed. Wordlessly, Tulip crawled in with him the moment she saw him, pressing her trembling body to his side, fingers curling around his shirt in a childlike fashion. Her breaths came out in stunted, heavy huffs, heart pounding a mile a minute. 

He ain’t gonna laugh. He ain’t. 

Fuck knows she was tired too. Driving all night into a new tow, looking for God, not finding God, finding a bar, finding some dickwads in a bar, finding a reason to bash their heads in...that shit was heavy. Custer was off brooding at another failed town and she was left to lounge on the hotel bed, cigarette clenched between her fingers. 

{text: coffee bean}: not for u it wasnt bitch

Come Say Weird Shit to Jesse Meme:

“You know a lot of dead people?”

It hadn’t crossed his mind, not until right now. The idea that something or someone had to make Cass what he was. Maybe there was a lot of vampires out there.