I am still upset about the passing of Donald Sutherland. Here is an article from GQ that I like in which he talks about why he begged Gary Ross to give him the role of President Snow.
Nobody asked me to do it [play Snow]. I wasn’t offered it [the role]. I like to read scripts, and it captured my passion. I wrote them a letter. The role of the president had maybe a line in the script. Maybe two. Didn’t make any difference. I thought it was an incredibly important film, and I wanted to be a part of it. I thought it could wake up an electorate that had been dormant since the ’70s. I hadn’t read the books. To be truthful, I was unaware of them. But they showed my letter to the director, Gary Ross, and he thought it’d be a good idea if I did it. He wrote those wonderfully poetic scenes in the rose garden, and they formed the mind and wit of Coriolanus Snow.
in 2017, government documents revealed that Sutherland had been on a NSA watchlist due to his anti-war [Vietnam War] activities. Here's an article where his son, Keifer Sutherland, talks about how the FBI raided their house when he was a kid.
When a group of hunters murdered your pack, you thought you lost everything. Somehow, the murder capitol of the world becomes your salvation.
Poly!LostBoys x gender neutral werewolf!Reader
Part 2
AN: This is my first time posting a fic on here, so I wasn't sure how long to make part 1! I have more planned out, so please let me know if you want to be added to a taglist! Thanks so much for reading <3.
One of the reasons werewolves are so difficult to kill is that in human form, they go completely undetected; their nature to hunt in packs also means suicide for individual hunters. That's why, on the night of the New Moon when werewolves are at their weakest, no one expected a group of hunters to attack.
When I returned home from picking up a last-minute shift, I saw the aftermath. I smelt the aftermath. I could taste the disgusting tang of silver and gore on the air where without mercy to any of them they shot and shot and shot and—a branch snapped nearby.
I fled without looking back.
-
For once in their un-lives, the cave was silent. Not the silence of mischief, nor the silence of tension before David lost his cool. This was the silence of four boys who thought they had been around long enough to forget the bone-ache of grief. Four boys who had dragged their broken bodies home, unable to even lick their wounded pride. Max was dead. The man who saved them and doomed them was dead and they no longer felt that pulling control to obey. They no longer felt the permeant caress in the back of their minds that meant there was always someone there for them. Silently, each unclaimed vampire slinked back into the shadows, feeling more alone than they have ever been.
The next morning did not come gently.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!," Marko's screech bounced from the cave entrance. As the newest fledgling, he still struggled sometimes with staying asleep all day. Thus, he was the first to stumble upon the fresh body of a man facedown just outside, the remaining boys appearing immediately behind after the first sign of distress.
With a nudge of his food against the limp shoulder, Paul shrugged, "I bet a few too many beers close to the cliff's edge." He moved in to take a bite. Dwayne, who had crouched down to investigate shook his head, "No, look," he gestured to the sliver of neck visible from above, "claws to the throat."
“A BEAR!?”
“Yeah, one clean slice across the throat, definitely a bear, Marko ” Paul snarked, smacking said man of the back of the head.
As Paul roasted the pouting Marko, David and Dwayne gave each other the same suspicion look: if it wasn’t an animal, what—or more importantly, who—left a murdered body on their doorstep.
But was it a threat? Or something else entirely?
-
I knew something had gone terribly wrong the second I was greeted for my morning shift, not by the sight of an empty video-store, but by a despondent Thorn lain across the doormat. With daylight rising above, I knew Max was currently unprotected, which meant either Thorn decided to take a vacation... or there was no one left to protect. Judging by the tone of despair in his whine, it had to be the latter. I quietly unlocked the door and curled up on the floor, Thorn’s head on my lap.
The last time you were in this position, the roles were reversed: You remember the ache in your limbs and stomach from running for days without stopping for food, afraid of the hunters not far behind. All you knew was that once you were able to blend into a crowd, the men would lose the trail. Stealing a car would draw too much attention and shifting to hunt would be too risky. Your only option was to run. But, there was only so long you could make it on your own: lost, tired, and grieving. So it was a miracle that when you collapsed in a state park outside of Santa Carla, instead of being shot in your sleep by a silver bullet, you woke to the concerned licks of a hell hound.
Soon after, Santa Carla's video store gained a new daytime manager, quickly trusted with a key to the store. Although you only worked together for a few hours in the evening, you learned a lot about the area (from the best restaurants to the best locations to find victims whose absences won't be noticed) and, more importantly, about Max's four "sons". Every story of the boys left you either agape at the stupid shit they got up to or having to lean against the counter to stop from falling over from laughter. However, no matter how many times he asked, you couldn't bring yourself to say more than a few words about your pack your old pack, aside from the frantic ravings the night Max found you. Yet, even though you gave him so little information about yourself, he never seemed hesitant to extend trust your way. A few months into working, you decided to brave asking him why. His usually goofy smile turned serious.
"Because," he paused. "You remind me of my boys before I saved them: lost…alone. They'll like you, if you stick around long enough one of these nights for me to properly introduce you. Paul won't shut up about letting seeing 'the bitchin' new store girl' that keeps running out before he can 'pick her up'," he rolled his eyes. "Back to my point, us…uh--those of us who are different need to stick together." His smile then turned sharp, a reminder that despite his facade, his power was not to be forgotten. "And, since you aren't an Alpha, you pose no threat to our territory. Right, pup?" You shivered under his gaze, which suddenly snapped to something over your shoulder, "Speak of the little devils…"
You both watched as the aforementioned rowdy boys made their way in, taking this as your cue to go. David smirked as you accidentally met his eyes, Paul pouted as you turned from him, Dwayne silently watched, and Marko unsubtly checked out your ass as you passed by on your way out the door. Max turned to greet the crying young boy and anxious looking woman entering the store, "This boy seems to be lost…"
Seeing the chemistry between Lucy and Max evolve over the next few weeks was sweet. So sweet you pushed for them both to take the night off. It didn't take much insisting—Max trusted you and was honestly grateful to be able to spend time with her outside of work. That, and you could handle yourself. That is, until a group of dickhead surfers decided Max's absence meant the video store was unprotected.
