Wolf in Wolf's Clothing

Trace Harper Marshall Human | 33 Years | ISTP Owned by: Aleksandr Kornilov Likes: -- Junk Food -- Teagan Morrigan -- Motorcycles -- Cats Dislikes: -- Demons -- People Who Talk Too Much -- Raw Vegetables -- Church

[aleks-kornilov]

No Excuses (prologue) [Trace x Alek]

[tracemarshall-blog]

It made sense – but he wasn’t crazy about doing it. Nonetheless, he gave a quick nod of his head before he turned to head back upstairs, grunting in his effort but managing to position the man at doorway as if trying to open it. Dragging the woman to do the same. Best he could think of. Double checking the surroundings, he made sure they hadn’t forgotten anything more before he headed back down stairs. Last but not the least, he turned on the stove. Wouldn’t take long for the gas to start a flame. Following the Russian now, he turned to take the kid from his arms. “I’ll wait close by. Make sure the house goes up.” he finished, his gaze moving from the other to all around his surroundings. No matter what though – never letting them rest on the kid. Sure, he’d save the kid from meeting the same end as his parents, but it didn’t mean the hunter felt any better about the whole thing. He’d still killed his parents. No matter what the boy would grow up without them. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than not having a family. Maybe he hadn’t done right by him after all…

[aleks-kornilov]

It was a struggle to try and quiet the child, especially when it appeared he was starting to understand what was happening. With his limited words Alek was listening to him have concern about his ‘Mam’ and ‘Da,’ about his ‘orsey’ too. Why the hell he was concerned about a horse confused the Russian, but never the less he tried to shush and quiet him with soft words and hums. The last thing they needed was the boy breaking into tears to wake the neighbors…

Looking up as Trace returned to take the boy a small frown tugged at his lips, crossing his arms instead at the missing weight. This was not sitting right with him, not at all. This broke every rule…. okay, not quite every rule, but close.. Reaching out, he tightened his fingers around the man’s arm, a firm look to his eyes. “Understand this is a rare exception, Trace. This is not something that can be done with every child we come across. He is being spared because he is too young to be a threat.” A soft squeeze and a furrowing of brows emphasized his next words. “Next time, there can be no excuses. You must understand that too. Too many houses catching fire and too many children turning up orphaned will raise suspicions, no matter how scattered.”

Drawing back his hand he gave another look to the boy before offering a small sigh, shaking his head as he again crossed his arms. “Which hospital are you taking him to?”

[tracemarshall-blog]

It was hard to keep the demon’s gaze during that little lecture. He didn’t really agree with it. If that was the problem then maybe the stupid fuck should double check that a man doesn’t have a family before he decides to make a deal. Simple as that. Trace didn’t bother to give the man a nod of understanding when he was finished either, fixing up the blanket on the boy instead, “Does it matter? Closest I can find.” he grunted back, pulling the boy close and rocking him more against his shoulder as the cold wind already began to bite again now that they were out in the open. “I’ll come find you tomorrow, alright?” he continued after another moment pause, not in the mood to discuss this situation any further than they had to. When Alek did finally leave, it wasn’t much longer before he started to see the windows begin to fog black and the wood boards finally begin to creak as the flames finally began to start flickering inside. As the neighbors finally began to appear, the man made his escape with the young kid, managing to find the nearest hospital without too much effort. The town was small enough as it was. He wasn’t much of an actor, but he did enough running to give himself a ragged appearance once he had arrived, quickly managing to exchange the kid into another’s arms. Just as usual, he managed to slip himself into the background after the nurse managed to turn her back on him for a moment. He wouldn’t head to Alek’s -- not tonight. He’d had more than enough of his fair share of the demon tonight. Free of the responsibility, the idea of musing over it further made him feel sick. No -- what he needed was a smoke and then to sleep for twelve hours. Actually...skip the cigarette. Smelled too much like fire...

[aleks-kornilov]

No Excuses (prologue) [Trace x Alek]

[tracemarshall-blog]

That was an easy one. Trace nodded his head in the direction of the doorway, “Fireplace downstairs. Bet there’s still some ashes in the old thing.” he grunted back before finally moving to pick up his guns, holstering both of them – one in an actual holster, the other in his pants. “Take him down there, cover him up the stuff and I’ll go start the gas in the kitchen.” he added on as he finally moved towards the door, relaxed a bit now that he wouldn’t have to look at the parents anymore and feeling confident that Alek wouldn’t hurt the poor little guy.

Moving downstairs, he did just that, moving to turn on the gas oven downstairs, setting up the scene just right and dusting off any fingerprints before finally returning to the demon, “Just get him out of here first. We won’t want to be anywhere near when the fire really starts. Won’t take long for the neighbors to see the smoke.”

[aleks-kornilov]

Of course the human had seen that, and it brought a grin to his lips. He really was learning quickly. Climbing up to his feet he easily cradled the child in one arm as he followed the hunter down the stairs, only making a stop at the child’s room when he began to fuss. Thankfully, it was only to grab a blanket to accompany his teddy already. Wasn’t that cliche, Alek thought. To play the ‘I found this kid with his blanket and teddy’ for Trace.

Asking the boy to close his eyes he gently brushed the soot onto his body and clothes, even mussing some into his hair. As Trace returned, Alek looked up, perking a brow. “Move the bodies to positions that make sense. While they will find the bullet wounds, at least if they’re in positions such that it appears they were trying to help one another it may delay.” Gently scooping the boy up he moved to the door, glancing around the living room to see if there was anything the boy may want. When there was no reaction from the child, other than quiet whining, he slipped outside to wait.

[tracemarshall-blog]

It made sense -- but he wasn’t crazy about doing it. Nonetheless, he gave a quick nod of his head before he turned to head back upstairs, grunting in his effort but managing to position the man at doorway as if trying to open it. Dragging the woman to do the same. Best he could think of. Double checking the surroundings, he made sure they hadn’t forgotten anything more before he headed back down stairs. Last but not the least, he turned on the stove. Wouldn’t take long for the gas to start a flame. Following the Russian now, he turned to take the kid from his arms. “I’ll wait close by. Make sure the house goes up.” he finished, his gaze moving from the other to all around his surroundings. No matter what though -- never letting them rest on the kid. Sure, he’d save the kid from meeting the same end as his parents, but it didn’t mean the hunter felt any better about the whole thing. He’d still killed his parents. No matter what the boy would grow up without them. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than not having a family. Maybe he hadn’t done right by him after all...

[aleks-kornilov]

No Excuses (prologue) [Trace x Alek]

[tracemarshall-blog]

Excellent. Just what he needed – to be forced to talk more when he was struggling as it was. He glared at the demon for a moment, shifting out of his way when he moved to pick up the boy, but never letting the other take him too far. For all he knew, Alek could still just decide to slit his throat if he was tired of listening. Trace took in a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he himself tried to work out the details on just what exactly he could do. No matter which way he looked at it, it wouldn’t be easy. He didn’t know if the family had any relatives. He wasn’t sure who the closest kin could be and he surely couldn’t just drop him off at a shelter without raising a few brows. After a long pause Marshall finally spoke up again, his eyes now downcast a bit in his anxiety, “We could take the kid to the hospital. Set the home ablaze to get rid of the evidence. I’ll say I saw the house on fire and found the kid – couldn’t find the parents. Slip out before they ask too many more questions.” He offered, picking at his lip now as he spoke, only meeting the demon’s gaze again instead of looking at the kid when he finished.

It wasn’t a perfect plan – but surely it would adhere to Alek’s wishes. To leave no evidence. Any further thing the kid said could be left to just trauma over anything else. Was it a fool proof plan? No…but it was something. Something that wasn’t killing. Anything was better than that.

[aleks-kornilov]

As Trace thought, Alek continued to gently brush the boy’s hair, beginning to hum to him quietly when he began to fuss. The demon knew to give the human time, knew to not try and rush his thought process. Alek was an asshole, it was true, but in situations where he honestly wanted a way out… Yeah, he’d stop and listen. So when Trace began to speak, he looked up at him, a scarred hand slowly coming to rest on the boy’s hair once again. It actually sounded like a good plan. It covered up the evidence, and while it would not eliminate the gunshots in their skulls, it would at least slow things down enough until they were gone.. And if the human were the one to take the boy to the hospital, if anyone ever saw him again it would probably eliminate him from the suspect list..

“Sounds good..” Speaking slowly, the water that had been twisting around his wrist finally, slowly, crept back to the flask at his side, blues watching as the toddler twisted in his lap to look up at him. He could see the tears that were threatening the edges of his vision.. Hopefully he would remember nothing. “How will you explain why he isn’t covered in soot?” The muttered words slipped from him as sighed, shaking his head. A fine mess this was.. How had he not known that the man had a freaking kid?

[tracemarshall-blog]

That was an easy one. Trace nodded his head in the direction of the doorway, “Fireplace downstairs. Bet there’s still some ashes in the old thing.” he grunted back before finally moving to pick up his guns, holstering both of them -- one in an actual holster, the other in his pants. “Take him down there, cover him up the stuff and I’ll go start the gas in the kitchen.” he added on as he finally moved towards the door, relaxed a bit now that he wouldn’t have to look at the parents anymore and feeling confident that Alek wouldn’t hurt the poor little guy.

Moving downstairs, he did just that, moving to turn on the gas oven downstairs, setting up the scene just right and dusting off any fingerprints before finally returning to the demon, “Just get him out of here first. We won’t want to be anywhere near when the fire really starts. Won’t take long for the neighbors to see the smoke.”

[aleks-kornilov]

No Excuses (prologue) [Trace x Alek]

[tracemarshall-blog]

“And what’s he gonna say? Two men? We ain’t in the databases. He won’t know how to describe us. Just…hell…what do you want, man?” Trace finally growled as he struggled with his words. He was never good about them – higher tension moments no exception. His shoulders sagged but he kept his grip on the other, his own grays still planted squarely in the demon’s to show he meant the question. It wasn’t rhetorical. Hell – he already made the most consequential deal, he couldn’t do any worse than that. It was worth the risk anyways; anything to keep a kid’s blood off his hands and conscience. “I’ll take him far away from here if I have to. Can’t you like…wipe his memory or somethin?” 

[aleks-kornilov]

That much was definitely true, Alek had made sure of it nearly every other day. They were not in the databases, never had Trace been.. Alek once, but he’d cleaned that up almost immediately. The water twined and twisted about his wrist slightly faster as he lifted his hand to again brush at the boy’s hair, thinking quietly to himself as he murmured gentle reassurances to the boy’s questions.

Blues that had drifted away from his hunter looked back up at him at hearing the offer to take him far away. How had that not even occurred to him? “I’m a demon, not a warlock.” He muttered softly under his breath as he sighed, shaking his head as his expression broke ever so slightly, just enough to reveal the fatigue that plagued him at the prospect at killing the child. It lasted merely a fraction of a second before his shields were up once more, sitting down on the ground as he pulled the boy into his lap. “You have my attention at the thought of taking him away.” The demon finally spoke after another few seconds of brushing the boy’s hair. “Explain your plan. I need to hear all of it.”

[tracemarshall-blog]

Excellent. Just what he needed -- to be forced to talk more when he was struggling as it was. He glared at the demon for a moment, shifting out of his way when he moved to pick up the boy, but never letting the other take him too far. For all he knew, Alek could still just decide to slit his throat if he was tired of listening. Trace took in a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he himself tried to work out the details on just what exactly he could do. No matter which way he looked at it, it wouldn’t be easy. He didn’t know if the family had any relatives. He wasn’t sure who the closest kin could be and he surely couldn’t just drop him off at a shelter without raising a few brows. After a long pause Marshall finally spoke up again, his eyes now downcast a bit in his anxiety, “We could take the kid to the hospital. Set the home ablaze to get rid of the evidence. I’ll say I saw the house on fire and found the kid -- couldn’t find the parents. Slip out before they ask too many more questions.” He offered, picking at his lip now as he spoke, only meeting the demon’s gaze again instead of looking at the kid when he finished.

It wasn’t a perfect plan -- but surely it would adhere to Alek’s wishes. To leave no evidence. Any further thing the kid said could be left to just trauma over anything else. Was it a fool proof plan? No...but it was something. Something that wasn’t killing. Anything was better than that.

[aleks-kornilov]

No Excuses (prologue) [Trace x Alek]

[tracemarshall-blog]

Now he knew exactly what the woman had been trying to say. That she had a son.  She had a fucking kid. Christ…this changed everything. Killing adults was one thing but having to kill parents?…fuck. The hunter was still so shocked by the sudden intruder that it took him a moment to realize what Alek was doing.

“Hold up.” Oh hell no. Quickly dropping his guns he took the few steps forward, a grip forming around the demon’s wrist as he held him back,

“Don’t –” He started, shifting to get between the Russian and the innocent boy. “It ain’t right – he’s just a kid. H-He won’t remember anything, let alone what we looked like. What you think he’d say to the police huh?” He grunted out, his tone raising as it became more of a plead on the boy’s behalf than anything else.  He was trying to think as fast as he possibly could to nullify the situation. Alek was a hard ass like…always – but surely even he could see the futility in killing a kid. A toddler really.

[aleks-kornilov]

Was Trace really going to argue with him over this? Narrowing his gaze his eyes slowly moved up to the human’s face, watching him curiously even as that same cold expression remained. As he tried to separate the demon from the boy he loosened his hold very slightly, but only enough to be gently rubbing the boy’s arm as a way to keep him calm. When children cried was when Alek really did feel like his race… Never would he admit it, but it also was the only time he loathed his race. It wasn’t like Alek enjoyed being the race others spat on, especially when he was a demon of lust. Come on, that was the demon that even other demons spat on for not being a ‘real’ demon.

“He’d old enough to speak is the point.” While the Russian’s voice was soft and gentle, the expression he wore was heartless. Cold. Calculating. The needle had ceased forming however, and that was the only indication that the human would be able to see that the man was hesitating. Rather, the water carefully wound around his wrist, slow but anxious, awaiting the decision to end the small child’s life. To keep him quiet, he reached behind him to retrieve the teddy, giving it to the boy to hold.

[tracemarshall-blog]

“And what’s he gonna say? Two men? We ain’t in the databases. He won’t know how to describe us. Just...hell...what do you want, man?” Trace finally growled as he struggled with his words. He was never good about them -- higher tension moments no exception. His shoulders sagged but he kept his grip on the other, his own grays still planted squarely in the demon’s to show he meant the question. It wasn’t rhetorical. Hell -- he already made the most consequential deal, he couldn’t do any worse than that. It was worth the risk anyways; anything to keep a kid’s blood off his hands and conscience. “I’ll take him far away from here if I have to. Can’t you like...wipe his memory or somethin?” 

[aleks-kornilov]

No Excuses (prologue) [Trace x Alek]

[aleks-kornilov]

Watching with a faint lingering of a smirk to his lips as the human did as he had been trained the faint ‘pop’ the guns gave were well accustomed to him. How many years had he been hearing that same sound, whether from him or one of his chained? It was an honest question actually… probably since whenever silencers had become a major thing.. Just as he had been letting the ice fade from his grip and back into his flask did he hear the sound of something hitting the floor. Spinning on the balls of his feet to see what it was a glower formed at seeing a child. It was truthfully the last thing he had wanted to see.

There was the briefest moment of indecision to the demon’s expression as he allowed the water to flow back to his flask. Alek disliked killing children, he always had. They were innocent, even for a demon such as himself. They knew no better, had done no wrong. Often times, they were the ones he could trust not to speak of his face to anyone. Often, they would simply forget.

But this one… He looked.. young. Yet… The demon strode forward as that smirk slid away, being replaced by a frozen, icy expression. It was pure neutral, and yet that fact alone screamed just how much the demon disliked this situation. That alone spoke legions. It was rare the Russian disliked anything enough to let it show. Crouching as he wrapped a gentle but firm arm around the boy his hand gently brushed his hair from his face as he turned him to face away from his parents, not wanting the child to have to face the carnage any longer than need be, even if he would mask that by saying he did not want the boy to start screaming. His intent became clear though, even as he murmured quiet reassurances to the child, as the water trickled back down his arm to begin forming a small needle.

[tracemarshall-blog]

Now he knew exactly what the woman had been trying to say. That she had a son.  She had a fucking kid. Christ...this changed everything. Killing adults was one thing but having to kill parents?...fuck. The hunter was still so shocked by the sudden intruder that it took him a moment to realize what Alek was doing.

“Hold up.” Oh hell no. Quickly dropping his guns he took the few steps forward, a grip forming around the demon’s wrist as he held him back,

“Don’t --” He started, shifting to get between the Russian and the innocent boy. “It ain’t right -- he’s just a kid. H-He won’t remember anything, let alone what we looked like. What you think he’d say to the police huh?” He grunted out, his tone raising as it became more of a plead on the boy’s behalf than anything else.  He was trying to think as fast as he possibly could to nullify the situation. Alek was a hard ass like...always -- but surely even he could see the futility in killing a kid. A toddler really.

[aleks-kornilov]

No Excuses (prologue) [Trace x Alek]

[aleks-kornilov]

Ah, so the human had been learning over these past months. Alek saw how he moved, how he held his posture and his grays flickered about. Perfect. That was good. Turned out Trace learned fast, which was exactly what the Russian had wanted. Damn he really had gotten a good deal out of this one. As he positioned himself beside the bed next to the woman, a dagger of ice formed in his hand as he perked a brow. Trace was in charge here, for now, it was all on his call. Aleksandr was here to listen and observe, stepping in if need be.

Nudging the woman with his weapon as Trace spoke a sick grin slipped to his lips as he saw the fear in her eyes, barely keeping himself silent as he merely nodded to his partner, signalling that she needed to listen. Thankfully, she seemed to listen better once her husband was forced to the floor on his knees, and he followed her movements, pressing the blade up and beneath her chin. “Hands behind your head.” He muttered as she began speaking, narrowing his eyes until Trace spoke once more.

Good. Very good. He was learning quickly and well. Giving one last nudge to the woman’s throat he nodded to her, signalling the human to keep an eye on them as he stepped back over to the nightstand. Tugging open the drawer, he dug for a few moments before standing back up straight with a tiny smirk. There was a notepad in his hand that appeared innocent enough; the first few pages were a journal in actuality. But after that, there were notes in another language, one that they had probably hoped the demon had not known. Which, come on, really?

Stepping back to in front of the husband he waved the small notepad, a brow hiking north. “I’d though I had made myself perfectly clear. You don’t search for a way out of the deal. When the time comes to collect, it will happen no matter what.” Anger had been kept out of his voice until the very end, when suddenly, it entered his tone as he tapped the notepad to the man’s temple. “I don’t take kindly to deal breakers.” Glancing at the hunter there was that same, sick grin that twisted his features at the same time as he drew back to slap the man with the notepad, which would have been harmless enough had the demon not coated the spirals in ice. As such, a soft chuckle slid from his lips at the sight of blood.

“You actually had another three months, you know that right? Technically 64 days, but who’s counting?” Kornilov chuckled quietly as he stepped back in front of the wife, waving the notepad slowly back and forth in his grip. “All joking aside. You broke your end of the deal, and as such, you have to pay up. Both of you. I leave no witnesses.” Grinning when the woman sputtered all the demon could do was tap her lips gently with the note pad. “Sorry, sweetie. Company policy. Couldn’t have our faces known, now could we?” A flick of his blues to Trace had a smirk sliding back to his lips before back to the people kneeling in front of them. He dropped the notepad he had been holding to reform his ice, bringing his hand up and behind the woman’s neck to lightly press it against her skin; the spot that would kill her instantly. “If you have any Gods you want to pray to, do it now. You have a minute.”

[tracemarshall-blog]

If there was one thing that made Trace’s skin crawl more than anything else is every time that damned demon smiled. He truly did enjoy this. This whole...cat and mouse thing that he did. Drawing people in, making them feel comfortable or helping them before pulling the rug right out from under them. Even for Trace he found it hard just to sleep at night knowing that with just a snap of Alek’s fingers he could be kibble for those hounds of his. Seeing him smile just put everything into perspective. The perspective that he had really fucked his life up. Nonetheless he kept his face stone cold -- not allowing for the demon to see any of his discomfort. He just stared back when the other did the same, keeping himself still. The woman had begun to cry. Nothing too loud; he was more concerned that she was still trying to speak. The tremble of her lips still made it hard to tell what she was saying. Something about sundown or sunrise or...who the hell knew. He just wished she’d shut up. Already he could feel his palms sweating against the metal in his hands. He’d hardly started this new “job” but he already felt he had done more than enough killing. All he had wanted was to spill some blood in revenge, not amass a body count larger than his own age. Despite his desire, the Russian was still talking -- terrorizing the two in his own way as if sneaking into their homes in the dead of night and forcing them to kneel wasn’t bad enough. Finally the Russian stepped back and gave him the nod, and as much as he had just got done complaining about putting off the actual murdering part -- he still dreaded the actual doing part. His entire body once again tensed up, his fingers tightening and struggling to maintain the proper grip on the guns. He pressed the two barrels against knob on the back of each of their heads to sever as much as possible at once. They tried to speak once again but now wasn’t the time. Trace’s lip curled and his eyes shut as he finally blew holes into the brains. It was only then that he heard the sound of feet and a thud as a little boy’s teddy bear dropped from his hands. Oh fuck.

[aleks-kornilov]

No Excuses (prologue) [Trace x Alek]

The demon had made them wait until the earliest hours of morning, when nothing innocent stirred if it had a mind not to. The chill of the coming autumn seeped into his coat as he silently pulled the brown cloth up further to his neck, blues staying trained on the house’s door. There were no pets inside, no security system either. Unfortunate, really. For the family at least. Fortunate for his hunter and himself. It made it all that easier to slip in and slip out unnoticed. No hacking required, no hisses or drowning of the family pet to ensure silence. All they had to rely on was themselves. This home belonged to someone he had made a deal with years ago, and it was time to collect. Especially after he had seen the person attempting to find ways to possibly get out of the deal, or even kill Alek. It was what had tipped Alek off in the first place that it was time to collect, the fact that this man was trying to find a way to break the deal. Something that had been agreed upon that he would not do.

With a soundless flick of his fingers and wrist as a signal to his human he began forward across the lawn, crouching down to easily pick the lock of the door before looking up to the man following him. He was still being taught, at least in Alek’s opinion. Kornilov knew he was capable, quite capable in fact. But that did not override the fact that the Russian still did not know exactly all that he was capable of. Now was the time for that to change. The couple he had them hunting were capable of fighting back, and the demon knew that all too well. A smirk worked its way to his lips as he remembered when he had originally made the deal with the husband… It had actually started as a bar brawl. A bar brawl that had wound up with the human selling his soul to a demon. There were reasons why Alek frequented bars. Stupid, easy decisions made in drunk stupor were always the best deals for him. Speaking of which, that was exactly how he had gotten Trace into his possession… The wife, on the other hand, he only knew could put up a fight because the husband had said so during the previously mentioned brawl. Something about her taking taek won do back in high school…

Allowing a faint smile to slip to his lips as he heard the small ‘click’ of the lock’s tumbler giving way as he unlocked the door as he looked up at his partner he tilted his head. “Lead on.” His voice was a deathly whisper as he nodded to the door, standing silently as he partially unscrewed the flask held at his side. Just in case things turned south. For now, he would take up the rear, cover their backs. It was time that Trace could show what he was capable of, so the demon could judge whether or not he could begin hunting on his own. Probably not, but it was always good to see.

[tracemarshall-blog]

In most cases, the time for an apprentice to show their master everything they learned is a joyous occasion. One that had many days if not years of training that led them to this point. This wasn’t one of those days. Truly any day like this felt more like a burden and heightened his stress than anything else. Instead of reflecting on months of hard work, Trace could only think of the regret that landed him here in the first place.  None of those feelings could be read on his face in the thick of the night. He stayed as emotionless as he could muster -- the grip on his weapon only tightening with each click of the pick that would eventually put the pieces into place to allow for the coming murder.  He couldn’t think about it like that. More like -- For the coming execution. These people weren’t blameless. Everyone has done something in their pasts to merit their death. Finally the door was open and Trace’s gun rose to a lethal position as he checked that the coast was clear. He waved his hand as his signal when he moved to peak around the next corner before his eyes turned upstairs. ‘Just get it over with. That’s all you have to do. Two quick silenced shots and you can leave.’ That same thought continued to mull itself over in his brain with his new step he took to the second floor of the house. The hunter quickly assessed the layout of the home and the many doors. One room’s light was on and the door cracked -- the bathroom. The other to the side was shut, but he usually found that master bedrooms tended to be at the end of hallways -- to allow for more space. Walking with his toes first, he minimized the sound of his steps as he stalk to the end door. Just maintaining his silence, Trace didn’t even bother to check that his back up would be there. The demon would be; he always was.

Turned out his intuition wasn’t wrong. The form of two adults under the blankets were only but feet away. It was only then that the Marshall boy realized he hadn’t breathed on God knew how long. Even with the realization he held it in as he at last placed the gun to the male target’s temple, his eyes only now turning to make sure Alek was guarding the woman on the other side. Finally words began to form, his voice like gravel from the lack of use, “On your feet.”  The sleeper’s eyes flashed open at that but his body was still and pale in his fear, “On your feet.” The hunter said once more. When the other moved, it was still too slow and too calculated like he was looking for escape. Trace couldn’t have that. Steeling his courage, he grabbed the man by the neck, pulling him up and forcing him to his knees in front of the bed, pulling out his second gun as he now pointed it to the woman, cocking the first one as it rested on the back of the man’s head for emphasis.  The woman moved to speak, to say something about someone but it came out as too much of a jumbled mess to be audible. “Don’t -- ain’t gonna change anything.” Trace snapped. Whatever it was he didn’t want to here it. The last thing he needed was any form of pleading; he couldn’t handle that shit. Now with both victims targets at his feet, Trace once again locked his blues onto the demon’s form, waiting for the go ahead -- biting the inside of his cheek to the point of pain to keep his resolve in check.

[tracemarshall-blog]

Breath Mint || Holly & Trace

Was it so much to ask to have junk food in stock at all times? It was a gas station for christ’s sake. How do you run out of shit at places like that? Nonetheless it had happened and Trace found himself having to travel an extra five blocks down the road to just a single bag of pork rinds. Really the truly batshit crazy thing to come out of this was that the store had run out of those. He didn’t know a lot of city folk who readily looked at a bag of pig skins and jumped at the chance. Especially up here in the Northeast. The man couldn’t help now but to picture a big buff trucker rolling into town and buying up the entire rack to freshen up his own stock. The thought had the Marshall boy tempted to do the same.  Finally making his way into the store, he trekked right to the snacks, scanning the horizontal shelves until finally his grays fell upon what he’d come for. “Finally…” he grunted under his breath as he leaned for, picking out one for himself before the idea of that trucker guy deciding to take one more pit stop at this station as well had him grabbing him four more. Awkwardly, he shuffled with arms full to the counter, standing third in line now only now realizing how poorly he had chosen to grapple his chosen goods. One right on top was giving him the most trouble, sliding back and forth. After much effort, finally it fell with one last effort going out on his part which only caused the bag to fall even further away next to the lady in front. “Sorry.” He grunted, shuffling as he tried to readjust his grip in order to lean down to grab it before the gray-haired woman had the chance. Who knew, she might be in cahoots with the fictional pork-loving trucker.

[holly-davidson]

But he wasn’t fast enough. Holly scooped up the bag near her feet, turning to hand it back to its buyer. The customer behind her shook his head, so she leaned out of line to look further. She could barely see the man behind the cluster clutched  in his hands. “Here ya go. Er… Do you wanna go on ahead of me?” Realizing his predicament, and that he was liable to keep dropping more the longer he wrestled with his rinds, she nudged her few sundries aside and placed the bag on the counter. If this had been a supermarket she might have offered the man a cart or basket. Who bought that much food at a gas station anyway? She had only come in for some milk, though a few little impulses had found their way onto the counter. And was that really ALL pork rinds? She was glad she had grabbed a bag before this glutton cleared the shelf. Maybe he was the one responsible for the recent shortage. She didn’t expect them to be so popular in these parts, but then again Coldgrove seemed full of surprises. The man between them rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. Holly offered him an apologetic shrug. He was probably just here to buy gas. The older gentleman manning the register had that sort of bored-to-death expression conveying he could not care less who went next or if anyone went at all; this was his life either way.

Just in time, another bored-looking gas station attendant emerged from somewhere in the back in a cloud of cigarette smoke to take her place behind the counter before the line grew any longer. “Next.”

[tracemarshall-blog]

The last he wanted was to draw more attention to himself after that small debacle but it seemed that was unavoidable, just as much as it was that he’d drop another. Trace didn’t like the idea of cutting in line either no matter the reason, but the idea of dropping his entire cache had his anxiety already as high as it was going to go anyways -- so he went for it. “Thanks...” He muttered, taking the final steps forward to place all the items on the counter. With his gaze less hindered, he turned to look at the woman out of his peripheral -- an instant regret. He knew this woman. She was that lady at the church garage sale. In sync with the realization, his eyes twitched back forward hoping she hadn’t seen enough him to be able to do the same. The last time they had met had been awkward enough. His entire body posture spoke of this -- even in the way he scrambled for his wallet. The part of him that shifted was his forearm, his torso facing completely forward and the rest of him stayed close together as if he focused hard enough he would turn pencil-thin. Finally, finally, the cashier finished his transaction and placed it in a bag and his cigarettes on the counter. There was a shuffle of feet as he shifted his weight to leave, but his manners had him stuck. She’d done him a service after all and saved him further embarrassment. Digging back into his wallet, he pulled out a twenty and placed it on the table, “For her. Give her the change too.” he grunted, jabbing his thumb backwards just in case the employee didn’t catch his drift. When he was sure the message was clear, fingers clasped around the bag while his head ducked against his chest, using his hair to cover himself as best as he could as he moved to turn towards the door.

Even in all his efforts, his eyes still betrayed him in his curiosity. They snuck a glance up and down the woman -- only then noticing the pork rinds in her hands. Guess he had found in mystery truck driver in the form of Garage Sale Lady. With her peppy clothes it was a little hard to picture her eating anything but communion crackers and grape juice. Pulling his stare away from her, he quickly moved to walk away for sure this time before the woman had time to protest his generosity.

[tracemarshall-blog]

Breath Mint || Holly & Trace

Was it so much to ask to have junk food in stock at all times? It was a gas station for christ’s sake. How do you run out of shit at places like that? Nonetheless it had happened and Trace found himself having to travel an extra five blocks down the road to just a single bag of pork rinds. Really the truly batshit crazy thing to come out of this was that the store had run out of those. He didn’t know a lot of city folk who readily looked at a bag of pig skins and jumped at the chance. Especially up here in the Northeast. The man couldn’t help now but to picture a big buff trucker rolling into town and buying up the entire rack to freshen up his own stock. The thought had the Marshall boy tempted to do the same.  Finally making his way into the store, he trekked right to the snacks, scanning the horizontal shelves until finally his grays fell upon what he’d come for. “Finally...” he grunted under his breath as he leaned for, picking out one for himself before the idea of that trucker guy deciding to take one more pit stop at this station as well had him grabbing him four more. Awkwardly, he shuffled with arms full to the counter, standing third in line now only now realizing how poorly he had chosen to grapple his chosen goods. One right on top was giving him the most trouble, sliding back and forth. After much effort, finally it fell with one last effort going out on his part which only caused the bag to fall even further away next to the lady in front. “Sorry.” He grunted, shuffling as he tried to readjust his grip in order to lean down to grab it before the gray-haired woman had the chance. Who knew, she might be in cahoots with the fictional pork-loving trucker.

[iheartnorman]

Norman Reedus for So It Goes Magazine.

[tracemarshall-blog]

Wake Up [ Teace ]

[tea-morrigan]

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[tea-morrigan]

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[tracemarshall-blog]

In situations like this, it was hard to focus on what exactly you looked like or really control what you were doing. Normally, Trace didn’t have that kind of problem where he wasn’t focused at all times, but as she touched him his thoughts became foggy like he’d had one too many drinks. He was at least well aware of the heavy breaths that fell from his lips against her skin and the hum that every now and then surfaced. He knew he should be returning the favor better or something, but at the moment his mind was on overload from stimulation. He just hoped he wasn’t blatantly obvious about his lack of experience. Despite his age he felt like he must have looked like a pubescent teen which didn’t help the red from tinging his cheeks. His hips naturally leaned further into her as well as he neck crane from her kisses, hands meanwhile continued to rub along her chest. Should he do something more? The thought resurfaced when she found a particularly good spot near the tip right after he finally got himself to calm down again enough. Biting on his lip, he let his hand slide down to brush along her thighs, dipping between them every once and awhile to test the waters. 

[zuzzolek-deactivated20150812]

[tracemarshall-blog]

Are you Daryl Dixon af?

Requested by anon.

[tracemarshall-blog]

Wake Up [ Teace ]

[tea-morrigan]

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[tracemarshall-blog]

Teagan’s lips leaving his own, definitely had Trace letting out a small sigh of disappointment, but it was very short lived when she found ways to make it up to him; ways that had another quiet hum falling from his lips and his muscles flex. His eyes remained shut until he began to notice her wayward hands. Opening them again, he tilted his head down from where it had lolled, doing everything in him to stop his bashfulness from stopping them. He wanted this -- whether his mind had caught up or not. He took in a deep breath, gripping her own hips more tightly, especially when her hands had finally rested against him. His second breath didn’t even make it in or out properly as it hitched itself in his throat, coming out instead as a groan. When was the last time he had been touched like that? Five? Ten years? The reminder of it all made him feel like he’d just been taken through a riptide; pulling him further and further out into a sea he’d hardly ever been. He found himself gulping to keep quiet, arching his neck when her lips found purchase elsewhere. His hands did not remain idle as his nails dragged from his side back up to her breasts, moving his own hands the way he knew she’d liked it from before -- though adding in a little something new. He rolled her nipples in between his fingertips as well as teased the underside of them with his claws. Somehow this kiss was even better. With the passion easily reignited, he opened his mouth to her again, kissing her deeply and enjoying the feeling of how soft they were were with the addition of the water. Why he’d never done this before he didn’t know. While his lips and hands busied on her upper body, he meanwhile allowed his own lower half to indulge the attention. Naturally his hips arched towards her, letting her know he was more than okay with it.

[tracemarshall-blog]

Wake Up [ Teace ]

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[tea-morrigan]

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[tracemarshall-blog]

“Okay.” He mumbled back at her words, his own eyes catching hers and causing a shy smirk again. He, however, did nothing to turn around to get it, his own arms having shifting to hold to her hips and sides -- his hands gliding up and down them. It wasn’t like he truly had any desire to really clean up. No he had just eager to find any kind of excuse to get himself out of wanting to knock a hole in the wall with his own head. Trace especially had no desire when they were standing like this. His body beginning to go through withdrawal again, he shifted his lips to kiss her temple down to her nose before finally nudging her head up enough to catch her lips, holding her more tightly, managing to flush him against him more or less accidentally. The sudden heat that spread from his groin at that brief moment had his entire body squirming on the inside, not sure how he was supposed to feel about that or what to do even about it. Not to mention the anxiety that was coursing through his body. If he touched her would he ever be able to stop himself enough to not take it too far?... All of those pent up fears seemed to come out in his kiss as he strengthened it as if relying on her for the support. His shoulders hunched as he raised a hand to her neck, doing everything he could to keep her close. It was the only thing he knew to do, and more importantly it was something he needed. He needed to make it up to her. He needed the confidence and the courage. He needed her to need him just as badly and admitting that was terrifying. So he kissed her, putting his entire heart into it as the water weaved its way between their curved bodies.

[thebaldsunshine]

Favorite Reedus Collection [34/?]

[thedemonbabyaubrey-blog]

“I don’t take orders from the likes of you, even if we are one in the same. Though you’re more a bag of bones than anything.” She glanced over at the other man, he was human that was for sure, the smirk on her lips grew as she looked Trace up and down.

“This truly is sad, you need a human to do your dirty work? That’s hilarious, I wonder what our kind thinks of this?” She hummed pursing her lips for a moment before speaking again. “Well this kid pissed me off so I killed him, simple as that.”

[aleks-kornilov]

A bag of bones? Really? It took everything the demon had not to snort at her words as he saw the sign Trace gave him. Good, so it looked like they were alone. At least that meant if things turned south it wouldn’t be too difficult to get away. The insult to Trace actually had a flare of annoyance surfacing, but he kept it well managed and hidden as he simply perked a brow to her. “What ‘our kind’ thinks of this is that it actually is fairly common. Easiest way to infiltrate the unsuspecting is with the sheep whom we hunt.” Sure, he was fairly certain Trace would not appreciate being indirectly called a ‘sheep,’ but by now he expected the man to understand that comments like that were usually not directed at him.

Usually.

The girl’s reasoning brought a half smirk to life, that brow hiking even further north. Either she was young, ignorant, arrogant, or a combination of all of them. Because indiscriminate killing like that was exactly how one got hunters on their tails. “Simple as that indeed.” Alek echoed, partially wanting to shake his head. Those that did not plan truly baffled him.. “Shall I assume you will take care of the body?” Because if not, at least that would affirm which of the combination she was.

[tracemarshall-blog]

“A human who can put this arrow between your eyes ‘fore you can blink.” he growled out at her comment, taking a small step towards the little girl as he brandished his weapon. No -- definitely not a little girl. She wasn’t sweet or innocent; the blood definitely helped to sweep that phrasing quickly away. Trace stayed quiet at Alek’s comment -- but he would have preferred better phrasing. Last he checked sheep didn’t carry weapons or were able to save a demon’s ass from a bar fight on more than one occasion. It wasn’t his place to say anything though so he kept his cool, his finger still itching on the trigger. Okay...maybe that did make him a little sheep-y.  Goddammit.