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writtenfan · 4 years

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Welcome to the Party! (Part 2)

DisneyHades x Reader Imagine

Warning: Some small cusses, some force-fullness don’t worry. He can be respectful enough...

Continuing off Part 1! (wowza now...its time for some shut eye..ha!)

You sigh and lean into the comfort of the red armchair while massaging your head. Aphrodite’s golden hair illuminating this dull backstage prep room.With the entertainment pushed out of it, it’s much more personal and quieter.

A room you rather not be in after Aphrodite asked about what you were feeling for a particular god of death that has your mind bouncing off the walls. Aphrodite is studying you as you do this, and you try not to notice but it’s making this whole, “what is going on with me”, process a little bit harder to handle.

Having the actual Goddess of love hinting to your blooming crush on a god that doesn’t have quite the positive record, let’s just say, no letters of recommendation are being written for him anytime soon, made you melt. After a few minutes of this quiet brooding and her silent but loud observation she leans forward and gently brushes you hand away from your forehead and runs her thumb over the spot with a smile, before taking both her hands and placing them on the sides of your cheeks using her thumbs to massage the corner of your eyes.

“Come on, stand up with me.” You stand slowly and play with your hair a bit, trying to hide your noticeable blushing.

“You do. It’s obvious.”

Your face grows warm, and it’s not just her words. Woah, her whole aura had this soothing jittery feeling about it. You absolutely see why she is the goddess of love. Because you were loving how soft her hands fel-

“Hey” she snaps, “stay with me, head above the waves little pearl” she says with a snicker. Aphrodite locks eyes with you and you nod sheepishly, and her eyes light up.

“Yes…yes you do!”

She bops your nose with the tip of her finger and takes her hands away begins to pace around in front of you hand covering her mouth, her eyes furrowed in thought.

“You see. The thing is I don’t understand it!” She stops pacing the sudden stop of clicking from her golden heels drew your attention back to her eyes as she faced you. Her golden hair swinging lazily at her feet, pink and gold illuminating brightly from around her.

“I mean yeah, I often saw you two, talking. At the reunions and the parties.” She taps her foot and looks into your eyes. “I mean, back then yeah. I sensed something but, it was so” she pinches her fingers together “teensy weensy I thought it was just basic appreciation but now. Woah, you’re coming off loud and clear sister.”

“Yeah it seems I have developed a crush.” You say as you pull at the sides of your dress in tenseness.

She takes in a sharp breath, “For Hades. The Lord of the Underworld I will add.”

“I mean. I don’t want to say this honey, but ha… what am I saying? I actually do!” She presses her hands together and shakes them for emphasis.

“HADES. ISN’T. A. GOOD. GUY!” she plots her hands on her waist.

“He prays on the weak and disadvantage. He literally captured all the gods using Titans. TITANS and then proclaimed himself king of Mount Olympus before getting his ass handed to him by Hercules!” she looks down at you with astonished eyes. “Its surprising to me we even allowed him to stay here once we realized he snuck into the party! I mean, Zeus was just about ready to ask him to step out when -” She eyes you up and down with an upset look on her face but it softened as she looked at you longer.

“He saw you and him enjoying each other’s company and that, that surprised him” I mean, he already punished Hades…the whole, trapped in the Styx and then the confinement for a few hundred years in that pocket dimension. It made him rethink is action to intervene but your father woah!”

“Yes, he. He actually told me all about the, imprisonment.” you softly say as you begin to remember the time you spent together a few weeks ago.

“Oh really, and how did that go?”

_____________________________________________________________________

A few weeks ago…

You set your offering bowl onto the barren ground just as the torn books from the library had told you and you hold out your hands. “Hades, Lord of the Dead. I call upon you…” you open your eyes and wait for a few moments, looking around you waiting for a poof, a flame something. As you stood upon the top this hill, without a sound but the wind and a few birds. You lower you hands and frown at the offering and intricate sigil you had drawn on the ground with silver ash. “Come on, its me. (y/n).”

The ground rumbles beneath you and you step back from the offering. But the shaking grew worse and you found yourself on your ass with dust tossing up in your face. You cover your eyes and start spitting out the dust that flew into your mouth and wave around your hands trying to see again. “HELLooo MOrtal…yOu CaAAlled?” echoed a sing-songed disembodied voice.

“Oh GODS whats with ground breaking introduction?!” you burst with a laugh. After the dust settles your greeted with the curling smoke and black robe right of in front of you. You watch as one of the smoke wisps reach out towards you and curls itself beneath your chin, surprisingly angling your head up to the broad bodied, sharp cheek boned, extra chinned, smug looking face of Hades himself.

“Went a little overboard on the entrance huh?” he chuckled as he leaned over and hovered an outstretched hand in front of you. “Need a lift?” You look down at his sharpened fingers and then back up at his pleased face. “Yeah to both questions.” You answer as you place your hand in his, automatically feeling a wave of cold wash through you. “Up and at ‘em” with one tug you lift to your feet, the movement made you stagger once you stood up and he placed an unexpected arm under yours holding you up.

“Aay, looks like you just left Happy Hour at Dion-and Wine!” he laughs at his own joke as you get over the wooziness that suddenly washed over you. “Staggering, falling over, does little (y/n) need a designated driver back home to her little pond?”

You give him an ugly look and move away his hands that had settled themselves onto you for quite long enough “I don’t live in a pond.” Hades shrugs and dusts off his hands.

“Stream, Lake, Sea. Whatever literally floats your boat alright? You still live with your pops, right? I mean in this economy it’s understandable…” You brush yourself off and watch as Hades glides, arms behind his back, past you to look at the valley below.

“Every so often, I make visits…” your voice trails off as he glances back to you with a sharp toothed grin.

“Nice set up may I add, a bit eh, extra. But I love the whole, sigil fruit basic scenario…old school I like it.” He looks back towards the valley stretching out his arms with a loud exhale verbal exhale. “Ahh, change in elevation. Makes me feel weird, especially after being down under, for so long.” He rolls his shoulders and cracks a few knuckles with a shocking pop and turns around sliding back in front of you, towering over you with a smile and the weak smell of death that hung in the air when the winds didn’t blow as hard. He made you both intimidated but eased. It was terribly frustrating. “So, let’s get down to business huh? Or did your pretty little face just wanna chat with little ol’ me?” he takes his finger and brushes it against your cheek but you don’t move away and his touch lingers there for a second longer then slides down and away from you, his grin growing wider and his eyebrows more furrowed and you noticed a few drops of sweat trailing down the side of his face.

“Yeah. I’m ready to talk.” He claps at your response.

“Alriiiight, good. So, what’s on your mind Bambi, what kinda thing did you want my assistance with?” He stretches out his fingers and moves them in the air as if he was about to cast a few spells. “I mean, it’s been a bit. But I feel like I still got it.” He chuckles as he makes a cloud of smoke manifest from his hands. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” He gives you a sheepish grin holding up a finger “W-wait just a moment” he scowls as he shakes his hands, the sound of a match hitting a tinderbox complements it and a sudden burst of flames causes you to move back as you shielded your eyes. “WOAH, THERE WE GO!” the flames die down and he gives you a wink as he blows out a flicker on his fingertip.

Your raise an eyebrow and place your hands on your hips. “I’m not here to make a deal Hades I just- wait what do you mean by that? Weren’t you released from the Underworld like 6 months ago? Haven’t you been in action for a while even before your release and doesn’t a few years seem like seconds in a gods eyes?” his grin slowly turns into a grimace as his focus turns to the ground at your feet.

“Haha- yeah…NOT like 6 months ago babe.” You watch him close his eyes as his blue flames start flickering widely on his head turning redder by the second and traveling down his neck as if someone poured oil on the back of his head. But he stopped that, and he shook himself off letting out a “Yeash” and popping his collar while returning your eye contact with a strained smile, the vein on his neck straining. “See. That isn’t even half of it I did more time than you may think sweetie. Yeah- I’ve had my few months out, but that doesn’t compare to the- “FeW YeARS” (he mocks) - I spent. IN.” He leans forward with the last word and gestures his hands hard in the air, his flames flaring up before simmering down.

“I don’t understand-“

He hold up a hand and rolls his eyes “-Let me just, clue you in, for a moment.” He snaps and two dark blue rattan armchairs appear behind you both. “Take a seat.” He gives you a closed mouth smile and you lower yourself in your chair as he does the same. “Drink, something to nosh?” a martini glass and an… eyeball… on a toothpick appear in his hands.

“No thanks.” You shudder as you watched him pop the eyeball in his mouth.

“More for me, anyways-“ he smiles and waves his now free hand in the air.

“Yes. Let me start from the beginning, you know what happened right?”

You lean on the arm of the chair and sigh. “Yes, you decided hey fuck the underworld why not take over Olympus, and imprison all who oppose me, killing millions by letting the Titans wreak havoc across the earth!”

He chokes on the sip from his drink and coughs a bit while laughing and you look at him puzzled as he slaps his knee with a grin “HA! Wow, such snarkiness love the vivid yet right to the point explanation. But see, I would change a few words like “imprison” to more like, “confine” sounds a lot nicer. A forced vacation even.” He nods and you glare at his calm expression.

“Yeah right” you mutter.

“Glad you agree!” He muffles as he drinks the last drop from his glass. He looks into his glass as if expecting something else and then poofs it away, focusing his blackened eyes right back on you. “But you don’t see the big picture. I bet your daddy dearest gave you the rendition one night as a spooky bedtime story. Ooooh, big bad Hades…”

“But you see, all of them up their own their little cloud, have always thought I was bad news. Labeled me, based on my looks alone!” He gestures to the sky and scrunches up his face. “Even earlier than the moment I was first assigned this position in the Underworld, unwillingly I may add, I’ve been treated with little to no respect.” His fire started to grow, and you clutched the arm of your chair.

“Treated me just as Zeus’s baby brother, who was always the top-dog, saving the universe, being the golden god and the twinkle in all humanities eyes. But no one even talks or acknowledges my part in the whole striking down daddy part of history or the hard work I do everyday JUST TO PREVENT THE EARTH. From being infested by the residents of the afterlife, no sirree!” he grumbles. The smoke at his feet curling up eerily around his chair.

“Ive been handed a job, no one wanted to handle and practically confined to it like a jail cell, which ha catch this, actually turn out to be one for me. FOR MORE THAN A FEW YEARS SWEETHEART!” His voice was sharp and full of bubbling anger and his hands did the same as yours except it was now smothered in smoke.

“After I finally was pulled out of the Styx by none other than Zeus, talk about that encounter, after they let me stew in that soul pit for a good while. I was exiled to this special little jail dimension just for Hades! And left there, to sit for at least, I don’t know… 2,000 -6,000 years?!!”

You sit up in your seat, “Wait what? That makes no sense, you were down for less than that.”

“Yeah, that’s only because they knew that without me, literally all hell would break loose, so they trapped me in some kind of alternate time zone that felt like a perpetual 3:00am at a mall parking lot. Just so I wouldn’t be out of the job for too long. How very kind of them.” He snarls his eye contact not breaking away from yours, his stare was increasingly becoming harder to bare. “But I had absolutely NOTHING to do expect boil and ruminate new ways of getting my well-deserved payback yet after a while even that grew stale. I grew more and more distant from this reality. They say time flies when you’re a god? Well even THAT was even too long for me. So I just slept. Yes. Slept. Until they popped the lock and sprung me out with their sullen faces and worthless words of forgiveness and broken promises of respect.” He hissed through his teeth. His flames now danced around his elbows and he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, while a wisp of smoke started traveling to you. You scoot back a bit, but the smoke follows and followed by another they wrap themselves around the legs of your chair and begin slowly scooting you close to him. Your heartbeat was racing, fight or flight instincts kicking in. The mood going on here felt like it was about to take a sour turn.

“So, YEAH. I wanted a heap load of revenge, so?” he continued rubbing his eyes and he rested on the armchair. “I deserve MORE, I deserve RESPECT, I deserve HAPPINESS! They had it coming to them. Let me be the villain alright, but again, they deserved it and still do.”

The air was now humid. You felt both concerned for him and astonished by his words. But then his tone took a sudden shift.

“But ever since I met you my little lady…” his voice grew huskier and he peaked through his fingers at you with a mischievous smile. His breathing heavy and loud as his chest moved up and down. You pulled your feet up on the chair as you were pulled closer to him. The dragging of the earth beneath the legs of the chair bumping you here and there.

“I’ve found some…pleasure amidst all that unpleasantness…” Your chair pulled right up in front of him, within arms distance and a steam of smoke rose from his lips as he breathed out.

“Now, I thought I was just going to, go on with my plan…” His smoke rises up your chair and playfully dances around your body, wrapping around you, poking your sides.

“H-Hey, woah there…” you stutter in a tense chuckle but he gives this no attention.

“Starting with you , which was to slowly slaughter all the little demi-mortal children of those complete idiots, just slow enough for none of the suspicion to be aimed towards me, just happy little accidents.” He scrunches his nose with a smile while one of his smoke tendrils brush against your face and hook your chin pulling you forward.

You pull back and it dissipates, and he grunts. “Holding a few for security.” He sings and you feel even more nervous and you stand up and try backing away but his smoke tangles you up and pulls you off your feet and…onto his…lap. Your face grows frightenly warm, and it wasn’t coming from him!

Your feet dangle over the armchair and his finger begin to walk their way down your leg on top of your dress. His other hand securing you down in place by the waist. “That was going to be my start, but-” He watches eagerly as he reaches the end of your dress near the bare calf of your leg and his grip tightens on your waist.

“-I thought one night, you know the third time we met, that…I should just, chill out for a bit…enjoy the-” His eyes trail back to your eyes and he bites his lip, sharp fangs poking through, his eyebrows raised and relaxed. “-sweet things. And oh, I was blessed with the sweetest most fascinating thing right before me baby cakes.” You place your hands on his chest and push off him, and right onto your feet. “I didn’t come for this Hades.” you scowl, and he smirks as he rises from his chair, following every step back you made. But your blushing. Why were you blushing. Why had you felt sorry for him? Why did you feel sorry but still angry at him?!

“Come on, you should be glad! You changed something in me, redirected my whole plan and don’t think I can’t see it in your eyes~” he sings as he holds out and hand, but you refuse and continue backing up “You see nothing.” You jeer and he only swoons and holds out his arms to you theatrically. “Come to the Underworld with me doll, we meet only briefly, but every time its like paradise!” You stop only for a second and he pulls you into him by the lower back, he looks down at you with such lust you could barely stand it. “I don’t. I cant-”

“Then why beseech me In the first place?” his voice grew cold and the air around you grew thick.

“I wanted to tell you..” his eyes squint as he awaits your words “That despite whatever we may have shared previous to today. That I wasn’t interested in any type of “adventure” with you, despite how much you’ve asked me!”

His face scowls for only a second but then bounces back to a small grin and he lets you go.

“Fine. Understood. Then I have no business here then hmm?” He walks past you towards the offerings you left to summon him. “Pomegranate? Ah, so cliché…but appreciate the offer.”

“Wait, your…you’re not going to do anything to me? Especially after spilling all your plans?” you say this and then automatically feel regretful.

He stops and turns his head to you still smiling, rather eerily. “No. Matter of fact. Because first of all. Not my plans anymore and second.” He turns around, his hands behind his back, “I trust you won’t go telling everyone.” Your breathing slows “I have a feeling, that…you wouldn’t want me getting into any trouble with the other gods, especially your father…” he chuckles as he runs a hand through his blue flames. “I have a feeling that, you’ve started to acknowledge the feeling of that figurative heart-shaped arrow in your spine sweetheart.”

He breathes in deeply and closes his eyes before opening them lazily “and I’m willing to wait even longer until you admit itm and when that time comes. Then you will come with me and we will…explore something beautiful…” his voice is so deep and seductive and you feel angry at yourself for thinking so, “ See ya later toots.” The blank smoke surrounded him and he was gone.

_______________________________________________________________________

(back to the present)

“It was a lot to handle all at once”.

You say softly to Aphrodite with a weak smile. “But I kept on seeing him after that and tonight, I’ve found that I really can’t deny these feelings any longer.”

You let out an angry exhale and look at the ceiling.

“I know that he isn’t…the best…I just can’t ignore him for some reason, he keeps pulling me in!” you say, smiling nervously as you did.

“Aww dear…I understand. Mortals and Gods alike all tend to fall for the “bad boys” she air quotes. “But this isn’t no boy.” She snaps her finger. “He’s not just bad. He’s lousy, abominable, beastly!” She points to you with a smirk “and not in that way sister, I sensed that little emotion of yours…” You blush and look at the door for a moment, hearing occasional shouts and something crashing. She clicks her tongue, “Honey eyes back here. Forget whatever’s going on out there…” She saunters up to you gesturing to one chair and it moves behind her and she sits down so that she can easily talk to you. Listen to me.” She leans over and holds your hands in hers. “I’m just…” she lets out a deep breath before gazing into your eyes in silence for a few moments. “Tell me…why you like him.”

You looked into the mirror across from you, studying your own reflection.

“I know, he isn’t a hundred percent a good guy, I’ve heard.” You look her in the eyes with a playful grin. “Especially from Hercules and practically every other god I’ve ever came across.” You close your eyes and mock a swoon, and this makes Aphrodite roll her eyes in a quivering grin.

“But I can’t stop these feelings! Its maddening! Whenever we talk, I find myself blushing inside. It’s annoying, there’s obviously some part of him I like!” “I- I know he isn’t an image of an angelic being, but I don’t feel as if he’s all bad either, I feel that he’s misunderstood and could change in some way, and that doesn’t make up for his bad actions.” You look back into Aphrodite’s eyes in a pleading way. “But when we talk...I find myself noticing parts of him that are…attractive.”

“Like what sweetheart? I need to know, what.” She says with sass in her voice.

You lean your head back and laugh restlessly looking up at the ceiling.

“Like yes, by the Gods, he’s narcissistic and just woah, so much to handle. I mean, he isn’t the god of death thanks to his love of mortal life…but there are times when he’s bearable! He does things that don’t have some kind of ulterior motive! Just pure raw self. I see that he isn’t completely what this world has labeled him to be.” You look back at Aphrodite and she looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes. He’s constantly suggesting I let him carry me off into the Underworld to what I presume to be his bedroom-” Aphrodite’s gaze grew fiery and she glinted at the door biting her lip angrily before shaking her head calming herself down.

“-but Gods he is just so charismatic and hilarious! and not 100% vile. I feel that there is a part of him that keeps escaping that’s likable and caring, I can’t stop myself from thinking about him.”

She lets out a soft sigh and leans back in her chair.

“Ok. I see there is no convincing you and I understand the whole charismatic thing. However, that’s his talent. You don’t know half of the trouble he caused with that sharp tongue and quick wit young lady. You need to be careful; I don’t want him to be using you for something, playing around with your little heart.” You felt her hands squeeze your hands before they let go and you open your eyes to look at her.

“He’s not a project you should be trying to fix, so let’s make that clear first of all.” She lets out a soft sigh “But I don’t think I can stop you from pursuing what I’m picking up on. So, just be careful and if he does anything to hurt you emotionally or physically. Let me know and I’ll come down and kick his ass with Artemis.” She stands and pulls you up with her.

“Let’s go back to the Masculine Murder Show and stop your daddy and your dark knight from shredding apart this party.”

You both head to the door when she stops abruptly and turns to you.

“Just before we go, what exactly do you like about Hades…physically. If you don’t mind me asking.” You stare at the door with wide eyes refusing to look at her while laughing timidly.

“Um. I- uh…I…a few things…”

“Ok. Never mind, I’m picking up on something, you don’t have to say it. I’m just- woah, Still absolutely concerned with your wellbeing but kust don’t be afraid to say no, yada-yada, let’s hit it.” she clasps the doorknob, and you both head out the door.

The party surprisingly has calmed down. You spot Artemis near the stage and you walk up to her Aphrodite at your side. “Where is my father?” you say with a nervous titter in your voice.

She snickers and points to the open patio near the doorway. The squirrels supported up on her shoulders running back and forth across her arm and snuggling themselves around her neck. “Be careful doll, they had a mighty loud tussle and just moved it outside, not sure what to expect for a little mortal girl like youse.”

“Thanks Artemis” Aphrodite says before she guides you towards the patio decorated with purple silk flowing in the wind. You hear the noises of Zeus loud voice accompanied by Poseidon bellowing and Hades’s shout.

You walk out onto the balcony and see the three brothers. You watch the figure of Hades as his black robe tosses in the winds that were now steadily increasing the more Zeus had a chance to shout. Your father had Hades pressed against the balcony railing, pointing his Trident on his neck. As Hades grabbed the Trident and was forcing it away from him in a flaming fury.

You clear throat and they all become silent; Aphrodite is no longer by your side but awaits just pass the balcony door nodding at you before walking away in order to give you privacy. Your father releases Hades and bounced towards you with a wide smile tossing his arm around you holding you so close to him you can hear his heavy breathing.

“Sweetheart I think it's about time we should go.”

You gently pry your father's grip that smelled of sea water and walk between the three gods. Hades eyes you with an inquisitively silent interest. You lock eyes with him, and his eyes don't break away from yours instead he grins and waves a few fingers at you in a titillating way and shrugs mouthing “what?” to Zeus when he stares him down. Who then stops glaring at Hades and comes up to you with an uneasy grin.

“Now come on inside, you two don't have to leave. I'll keep our younger brother in check he won't pester young (y/n) anymore Poseidon, will you Hades?”

“Again. Not pestering~.” Hades moves closer to you but stops abruptly and sucks air through his teeth as he changes his direction towards your father.

“Anyway, like I keep saying if you guys can actually get off your high seahorses and listen to me.” He looks around the room, noticing its completely silent he nods his head with a wide sharp tooth grin “Good thank you. Appreciate it.” His fingers press together occasionally lifting and pressing back together in a rhythmic way.

“I think, I had enough of this party anyway so I’m gonna to head out…no need to dip and dive the little princess back home...to her little pond” you flinch as he starts heading towards the balcony entrance.

“I think that would be wise Hades.” Zeus mumbles as he and Poseidon watch him head towards the entrance. You turn to the doorway and watch as he pauses just before entering the room to turn his head to you with a sly smile on his face raising a hand to his chin in a mock of a phone.

“Call me babe if you ever feel like talking. I’ll make room for you.” Poseidon’s face grows furrowed and he aims his triton towards Hades but before it could zap him, Hades left the place he stood In magnificent blue flames, disappearing completely, leaving scorched marks on the stone floor and lighting one of the silk drapes on fire that was quickly extinguished by your father.

Yet the party still continued as planned, your father was instantly more protective of you and refused you to leave his side except when he and Zeus asked you to depart as they talked on the balcony for a few minutes, joined by Aphrodite. During this time, you went back inside, shrinking at the stares intended for you before surprised by a worried Hercules who was asking about the situation.

You explained to him Hades started chatting you up and your father didn’t agree so it resulted with a fight that caused Hades to leave. Hercules scowled back and looked out towards the balcony, “Good riddance, he shouldn’t have even showed his face after what he did to me and the Gods involving the Titans”.

You hear your fathers voice call to you almost telepathically and you finish up your conversation with Hercules and make your way outside on the balcony. Zeus has a soft smile on his face and Aphrodite looks exhausted. Your father steps forward and looks at you with loving glistening blue eyes and gills that shined in the moonlight.

“I think it’s time for us to go dear. I should send you back home to your mortal parent(s) before it gets too late.”

_______________________________________________________________________

And so, your taken back home to a nice house in a small little town with a stream running behind it. Along with the thick forest just outside your backyard. Littered with steep hills.

You sat watching the river peak past the trees of the forest edge. You stand up from ground and head towards this familiar stream, the first form of communication you ever had with your father, and before that, a calming river that you loved to play near and in. You walk barefoot in the warm tickling grass, your swaying silk pants imported from Agrabah, flittering in the wind.

The closer you get to the water, the louder the sound of it running down the small steep is. Your feet occasionally touch dusty dirt that covers the bottom of your toes. Near the river is some muddy soft ground and when you reach this dirt you stand overlooking the dark blue waters only illuminated by moonlight. You find a large bolder to your right and sit down brushing off the bottoms of your feet against the stone and look up at the starlit sky before taking a deep breath.

“Hey…Hades?”

You wait and listen to the warm winds hitting your face. You look into the trees which lose the light from the sky and become darker and more foreboding. You can’t tear your eyes from it, however. The darkness was calling you, but you dare not move into it. You were afraid, yet it still called. Two eyes, bright yellow move from behind a tree. Your heartbeat jolts. You clutch the rock and begin to stand up to appear larger. You watched the eyes come closer, the dark black pupils coming into view, losing their yellow illumination as they reached the light.

The smoke curling first into the light, its shadow dancing against the trees behind it. His fingers pressed together, his smile closed and broad. His eyes so carefree and entertained by what he saw, which was you.

He hovered to the water’s edge on the other side of the small river but didn’t stop. He kept moving, across the water, just above it. This movement was eerie, but he made it seem so natural. “You called?” His voice sang, making you shiver.

“I mean, dang. Your reception was loud and clear even down under.” He points to the ground “That sweet little voice of yours calling out to me Ooo!~ Such a treat after such terrible treatment at that little party earlier.” his voice, smooth and as snarky as ever.

When he reached your rock, even though you stood over him, he simply used his smoke to rise gently off the ground to meet you eye to eye. He raises an eyebrow and holds out his clawed hand opening his mouth in a smile flashing the row of sharp teeth just behind his lips.

His eyes lose their friskiness and look into your eyes with a surprisingly soft gaze. How he could make you so calm despite his appearance astonished you. But you place your hand in his, hesitating just before placing it down. However, he moves his hand up and closes his fingers around yours before you could have even thought to move your hand away. He pulls you off the rock and onto the smoke which now curled beneath your feet hovering you off the ground.

You watched the ground beneath the translucent dark grey smog, and he pulls you into his chest and let’s go of your hand causing you to fall into him. You use your hands to stop from completely slamming into him but catch yourself staring at the fabric of his robe, and the menacing silver skull pin on his chest. His hands find their way to the middle of your back and you push off him now noticing that you two were floating back to the middle of the river. He begins to chuckle and takes one of his hands off your back and props your chin up to his face with a calm expression.

“Woah talk about whisking me off my feet…” you say with a nervous laugh.

His eyebrows raise with an amused look on his face. He takes his hand and slides its down your arm back to your hand raising it up and mocking a little dance number as you two slowly spin in the middle of the river as he hums and guides you around in the air.

“Heh- I tend to do that sweetheart. You should see the monster gals down out west, they practically “claw” for my attention. I mean come on. Look at me.” He bats his eyes and raises a hand to his face gesturing his jaw line while giving you an attempt at a dashing grin.

You find a laugh escaping your mouth. “Yeah, handsome. I see…” you say as you watch him look at your smile with lazy love-stricken eyes. You then take your finger and place it under his chin so that he looks back into your eyes, and he practically swoons.

Abruptly his smile grows, and he spins you around quite fast causing your hair to whip. The smoke on the bottom of your feet expanding beneath you two. The ends of the smoke flickering up towards the sky like tentacles moving up and around you both in a circle, rising steadily higher. Which you find this a little bit unsettling. You focus your observation back at him and he pulls your hand in close to his chest lowering his hand on your back a bit more, making you jittery.

“They do have a beasty appetite in all aspects…” you say with a grin and tighten your hand over his, this surprises him, and he starts stuttering softly but you hush him, and he just becomes quiet. “I’m sure they would just love to get a taste of you if they could. Even I have a “deadly” appetite myself.” He lets out a low purring sound and spins you around again and leans in close to your face

“Rawwwwrrrrr… but they won’t have a single taste of this hunk right here babe don’t worry about it. This bachelor is off the menu~!-”

“-Are you sure?” you give him a pouty grin and lean in close to his ear.

“Because I sure wouldn’t mind having a taste of death...but I need the flavor to be…hot enough to enjoy.”

BOOM his flames bursts from his head traveling down in a flash of red down his back before snapping off and flickering back to a dancing blue. You close your eyes and stagger back as his fingers let go of yours. You fall back, and the smoke rises around you covering your sight before a hand grasps onto yours and stops you from tipping over into the water. “Your always falling for me huh sweetheart…quite literally actually.”

The smoke moves away from your eyes and he slips his hand against your back and pulls you in close to his face. The smell of smoke coming from a campfire filling the air, a steady small stream of smoke coming from his nostrils with tiny wispy hearts made of smoke

following it. A crazy enamored look on his face. Your eyes are locked on each other and your clutching onto his chest tightly. “Kiss me doll.” He says in a deep whisper, but before you had the chance to reply, he picks you up and dips you on his other side before tilting his head and pressing his lips against yours fitting them, oh so perfectly, and hungrily as he held you against him so tight it was getting difficult to breathe. The smoke of his nose coming out of his face His fire burning brightly from the top of his head. The smoke around his feet that started traveling up around you both in a circle, raising towards the moon before shutting tight and unexpectantly blotting out the moonlight. The smoke twisted around you both until a wave of energy traveled through you and all you saw was absolute darkness.

The smoke bursts away and you take a deep gasp in as you pull away from his following lips. Your eyes squinting at the damp light that now surrounded you, the stale and hot air flowing into your nostrils as you blink rapidly as your eyes tear up. Your held by the waist and your arm. His laughter starting to grow louder as it rumbled from his throat. Your eyes begin to clear, and you see weird glowing water illuminating off the cliff you were standing on.

“Wh-what?”

“Welcome to the Underworld baby, 500,000,000,000 annnnd counting!” he croons as he swings you around in a circle just over the cliff, you turn your head and look down and watch weird translucent figures floating on top of each other, in a never-ending circle towards the ending at the bottom of the pool. Which was as bright as the sun but softer on the eyes.

Your raised once more and turn your head to the smiling, sharp cheek boned face of a God who brings a sense of adrenaline and uneasiness that can’t seem to make up their mind.

His eyebrows wiggle as he wraps a finger around a strand of your hair.

“And my humble eheh. Abode…I brought you down here to witness my glorious domain…But in order to keep you comfortable little queen of mine, I’ve got your room already made for you. Which is, heh. Mine.”

“Queen?!”

He pinches cheek “Bingo! Then he leans forward, his lips just against your earlobe.

“That kiss we shared, signifies that you’re ready to be with me baby and if you’re with me. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable in this little world of mine…” he pulls away and gives you a little air kiss as he gestures to the rocky ceiling full of stalactites (mites?) You raise an eyebrow, but it falls as his surprisingly cold breath trails down your neck and he snickers and plants a series of lingering Gomez kisses from your earlobe down your neck.

You squirm and he only follows with you, before you place a hand on his neck, just below the roaring fire on his head. And he purrs as you push him on your skin “Aye che mama.” He leaves a kiss below your jawline, “You.”

He unexpectedly presses something wet and dripping against your collarbone sliding it behind your ear and you flinch away from him to see him sliding his tongue back into mouth while snickering, his shoulders bouncing as he let you go and you staggered back as you watched him wipe something from his forehead and smooth back his flames so that they stayed slicked for only a moment before flickering back to normal.

“Taste good. Might I say. I mean, wow your lips are divine. Your flesh, oh how I never thought id say this. But, isn’t something id prefer to be cold.” he finishes as he puffs up his chest and slides behind you, letting his fingers rest on your shoulders.

“D-did you just?”

He shrugs and looks at the ceiling as if he was innocent, but you take your mind off what just happened and turn around to look down at the pool of … “Souls. Sweetheart.” He’s suddenly at your side. He puts an arm around your body, dancing his fingers on your sides. “All dead, all gone. All controlled by me, this is the River Styx babe. You like rivers right well…don’t go dipping any toes in this one. Might lose it.” He turns towards you biting his lip in a fretful way “And much more hon, zaps your life away, plus the souls in there are…rather clingily as you know.” His fretful face turns annoyed as he looks into the water kicking a stone into it, you both watch and hear the souls wail as the water ripples and the stone crumbles into nothing. “And I would know, ha for sure. Those wailing idiots dragged me towards the bottom of this damn lake. Keeping me there for a while after Hercules knocked my light out.” he squirmed and pulled you in close “By the way. Hercules? EHH.” He mocks a buzzer noise. “No more hanging around him, get it?” He squints his eyes with a thin grin. “Bad crowd.” He takes his hand and smooshes your cheeks together shaking your head entirely. “I don’t want him to influence my snooky-wookums.”

“Ok. Alright. This is moving too fast.” You say as he releases your cheeks.

“Fast, fast?” he whimpers as he turns you around to face him.

“Baby, Sweetheart~” You hold up a finger and look him in the eyes and he surprisingly shut’s up.

“Um. First of all, queen of the underworld no. I’m not becoming your Queen Hades…”

“mmm…not yet.” He mutters before you shush him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Yes, I’ve fallen for you…” He chuckles and walks two sharp fingers gently against your arm up to your shoulder.

“The perfect decision love. I’ll make sure to treat you right babe. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger-“

“Hades.”

“Yes listening, listening…don’t worry. I’ll get better at it. Promise. Continue~”

“Second, I have the feeling that you want me to…move in.”

“Yes.”

“Like, now.”

“and forever~” he grins.

“No.”

“Comeeeeeonnnn Babe. This place is perfect for you. Anyway-“

He turns around and you do as well as his hand is still lovely on your shoulder.

He leans his face to yours and blows a smoke heart in your face while keeping his face close to yours as he speaks, occasionally pinching your clothing, brushing off your shoulders and playing with your hair.

“-I can’t have you being all, up top frolicking around on the grass, sniffing flowers feeling that sweet sweet sun Aries pulls through that blue beautiful sky…and oh what is this?”

He takes his hand from around your shoulder and slams his fist into his open palm. “BAM! KAPOWEE!!... Or even worse” he moves in front of you making you stop creating some smoke that surrounded his mouth looking like your fathers’ beard. “You are coming with me and I’m refusing you to see Hades again, and Bam. “He flicks his hand and a small cage manifests in the air before he waves it away. “You see. I…heh…I have a lot of enemies…” He rests both his hands on your shoulders and leans forward. “Gods ,Demi-Gods, Mortals, you name it. Now, not that I can’t handle them…if anyone would dare threaten you well. I’m not the god of death for nothing but- I can’t risk you-you getting all caught up in that capiche. I like having you around get it?” he grits his teeth t the last part. “So, literally. I’m Going To Keep You Around.” He looks about and points to the ground “Got it?” you open your mouth to protest but he interrupts, “ALLLRIGHHHHTTTT!!” he finger guns you before taking your hand and pulling you into him, except when you got close once again you were covered in smoke which dispersed In a nanosecond. You both were standing in this darkly lit dining room with a long dining table a sharp looking fireplace and a chandelier carved out from the ceiling above with eerie green flames.

#disney hades x reader #disney hades imagine #hades disney

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salamandermemes · 4 years

Text

Ricky Montgomery Sentence Starters.

This December:

“Only in my darkest moments can I see the light.” “I think I'm prone to getting blinded when it's bright.” “I'm alright if you're alright.” “Well, this December, I'll remember.” “It's just a little bit lonely in this home.” “Its always colder on your own.” “I let the seasons change my mind.” “I wanna see you with your head wide open.” “It's this state, in this state I'm living in.” “Maybe this December I'll remember.”

Mr. Loverman:

“I'm headed straight for the floor.” “The alcohol served its tour.” “And it's headed straight for my skin, leaving me daft and dim.” “I've got this shake in my legs.” “I'm Mr. Loverman, and I miss my lover, man.” “The ways in which you talk to me, have me wishin' I were gone.” “The ways that you say my name, have me runnin' on and on.” “I'm cramping up.” “You're cracking up.” “I've shattered now I'm spilling out.” “I'm reeling in my brain again, before it can get back to you.” “Oh what am I supposed to do without you?”

Line Without a Hook:

“I don't really give a damn about the way you touch me when we're alone.” “You can hold my hand if no one's home.” “Do you like it when I'm away?” “If I went and hurt my body, baby, would you love me the same?” “I can feel all my bones coming back and I'm craving motion.” “It's a curse and it's growing.” “You're a pond and I'm an ocean.” “All my emotions feel like explosions when you are around.” “I am a wreck when I'm without you.” “I need you here to stay.” “Was it something I said to make you feel like you're a burden?” “Listen close, it's a no.” “Oh at last, it is past.” “Now I've got it, and you can't have it.” “Is it worth it? Is it worth it? Tell me, is it worth it?” “She's a, she's a lady, and I am just a boy.”

My Heart Is Buried in Venice:

“Come rest your bones next to me.” “So we can get lost, you and me.” “My heart is buried in Venice, hidden beneath all my worries and doubts.” “My heart is buried in Venice, waiting for someone to take it home.” “Even when you try to hide it, a smile creeps out from your teeth.” “I never thought that I would have to say I'm sorry.” “Say, say what you mean.” “Tell me the truth or tell me you're through.” “Don't leave me to breathe.” “Don't leave me to bleed.”

Snow:

“I’m ready, and down to forget.” “Those drapes on the walls can't shut out the silence.” “Does it suck that I'm not so predictable?” “Sometimes things aren't as plain as they seem.” “Darling, when I go bury me six feet in snow.” “Here we are, wasting our chances for the last time.” “Oh, and when we go I'll try not to be so slow.” “Skeletons, skeletons, what do we have here -- hiding from the mirror.” “Say it once, say it twice, try to be nice.” “Well, let's not lose ourselves.” “Love had left her screaming at the screen.” “And it's understood, that the both of us are no good.” “And I'll always be that short little gloat always clearing his throat, like he ever had something to say.” “Take my mind, take my body.” “Take my father's conscience from me.” “Sister, will you lend me all your strength.” “I’m bringing everyone home.”

Don’t Know How:

“I wanna be your little mister now.” “I wanna be the one that puts you out.” “I wanna do it but I don't know how.” “I wanna be the one that tells you no.” “I wanna be a place that you can't go.” “Lovemaker, but no one knows if you're a heartbreaker.” “But you can't say if you're a life taker, 'cause you can't tell if you're not.” “I wanna be the one that makes you stay.” “I wanna be a name that you can't say.” “I wanna be a word you say at night.” “I wanna be a feeling you can't fight.”

Cabo:

“White hair and white shoes.” “Neoprene beached around a faded blue.” “Do what you can with me and do it quietly.” “Ashes, ashes, dust to dust.” “I think I found a place for us.” “It's down by Garden after dark.” “It's in my arms, it's in my arms.” “And I cannot say a word to you like this.” “Wanna see you, but I gotta resist.” “Valley under me can you tell me it's all wrong 'til it gets to me?”

Get Used to It:

“Used to live down by the beach.” “And I used to be good on my feet.” “And my fingers used to dance on every key.” “Now they’re just pieces of meat.” “Used to wear a suit and tie.” “And I used to grab a birdie every night.” “Drive down to the hotel parking lot, make monkey love in the street.” “Used to go to university, used to be the head of varsity.” “Used to live inside this box with everyone noticin' me.” “I used to leave the evenin' feelin' right.” “I'll be with you each and every night.” “Chasing that horizon in our eyes.” “You want a garden but you got a balcony.” “And you're always lookin' for some company.” “You want a say, well, what you got to say?” “Give in to me, give in to me and see.” “Left not but this envy in my heart and soul.” “Apropos, you're beautiful. You're beautiful.” “Watcha gotta say?” “Give in to me.” “Get used to it, get used to it.”

#ricky montgomery rp meme #song rp meme #song lyrics rp meme #rp meme #meme #song lyric meme #ricky montgomery meme

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cozykhaos · 4 years

Text

A New Sun Part 8

Waking up the next morning with a pile of puppies cuddled up around me was the best feeling in the world. All of them perked up when I got out of bed and when the food bowl hit the floor, all of them did too. I would go into town today and post a bulletin about the other pups. After changing and breakfast we all went outside. I checked the soil of my crops, the ground still wet from yesterdays rain, I skipped out on watering. I would check it again in the afternoon. I used my scythe to clear the weeds to the forest, for a more defined path. I started a pile of stones and branches near the house. I would need both for any upgrades I would want to make.

I was the afternoon when I heard the engine from the truck. I started back to the house, the pups standing on the porch, all at attention. Robin and Sebastian got out of the pickup. “Puppies!” Robin’s face lit up. The pups came running down the steps and bounced around her feet. Robin crouched down and let them lick her face. Sebastian stepped around the truck, looking grumpy, hair disheveled.

“Sorry we are coming over so late, I didn’t want to wake up Sebby. He was up late last night working,” Robin said standing.

“It’s no problem. I actually forgot you were coming by today,” I let out a little laugh and scratched the back of my head. Noticing Sebastian, the puppies bounced over to him, Asher’s gray twin reached up to Sebastian, who picked her up. Robin looked between the puppy and Sebastian, who was now holding the dog like a baby and scratching her stomach. She smiled.

“Well, should we get this fence put up?” Robin clapped her hands together. Between the three of us it didn’t take long to get the fence assembled and put up. Robin had given me plenty of room to expand my crops as well. Once we were finished, we sat on the front porch, drinking lemonade and eating sandwiches that I had made.

“Sorry it isn’t much,” I refilled my glass. “It’s a small kitchen and it’s a pain in the ass to cook in.”

“House upgrade,” Robin sang.

“Mom,” Sebastian groaned.

“I’m just saying, the place is very small. And what are you going to do when you get married?” Robin asked. Sebastian started choking. “Sebby, what’s the matter?” Robin started patting his back.

“Nothing I’m fine!” He snapped and waved her hand away. Robin frowned and then looked at me.

“I’ve actually been thinking about it. But I also need a chicken coop and a barn. Thankfully most of this season’s crops are being sold. The only vegetables I really like that I’m growing are potatoes and green beans. And it’s just me so I don’t need a whole lot.” I shrugged. I had brought out a notebook and pen with me and I started my bulletin. I looked at the puppies when I was done. Ash was playing with two of his siblings, wrestling in the dust. The all black puppy slept by the door. The gray pup slept next to Sebastian, her head on his leg. I frowned, it had only been a day, but I was attached to the little guys. But they would at least still be in the Valley with me.

“I need to go put this on the bulletin board, I’ll be right back,” I stood, Ash got to his feet and watched me. “Are you coming?” I asked him.

“I am,” Robin stood and stretched. “I need to get a few things from Pierre’s. Do you need anything?” She looked at Sebastian.

“I’m good, but thanks,” Sebastian waved us off. Asher followed us into town. Feeding all 5 dogs I would need another bag of food from Pierre’s as well. I posted up my notice, letting everyone know to come see me if they were interested in a puppy and describing each of them and the genders. I made a note that if you adopted a puppy to cross it off that way others would know it was taken.

Robin stared at the page and took up the pen that was attached to the board and crossed off the gray puppy. She beamed at me and pushed into Pierre’s. I showed her the dog food that I was feeding them and grabbed another bag for myself. After purchasing toys, collar, treats and a leash we went to check out.

“More stuff?” Pierre asked.

“More puppies,” I corrected.

“Oh my!” Pierre’s eyebrows shot up into his hair line. Robin put her elbows on the counter and leaned in. “I’m getting one for Sebastian,” she smiled.

“Oh,” Pierre’s face fell and then quickly caught himself. “Oh! I’m sure he will love that!” He cleared his throat.

“I think so,” I nodded. “One of them has been really attached to him.”

“I think it’ll be good for him,” Robin agreed. We payed for our stuff and left. I helped Robin carry her stuff back to the farm. Sebastian was still sitting on the porch, now the puppy was in one of his arms, chin on his shoulder, while he scrolled through his phone. He looked up when the other dogs came running. His brows scrunched together when he noticed his mom.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Stuff for pup dog,” Robin replied with a shrug.

“Wh…what?” Sebastian stood still holding the dog. “Really?”

“Yeah!” She tossed the dog food into the back of the truck.

“What about Demetrius?” Sebastian’s tone went sour.

“What about him?” Robin didn’t look at him. “She’s your dog, not his.”

Sebastian stared at his mom in shock, mouth slightly open. Puppy licked his chin and he closed it.

“She will be your responsibility, feeding, playing, walking, cleaning up after her,” Robin ticked off the list on her fingers.

“Yeah, of course!” Sebastian nodded.

“Alright, well let’s get her home!”

Sebastian smiled at me over his shoulder before getting into the truck.

The rest of the week went by in a blur. Lewis, Eveyln and Haylee came by on Monday and gave me packets of tulips and blue jazz that they wanted me to plant for the flower festival. I still had time to plant them, so I kept them to the side for now. Lewis ended up leaving with the all black puppy that day, declaring her Pepper.

Tuesday, Sam and his little brother Vincent came by, their mother had agreed on letting them get a dog. They took the black dog with the one white spot over his eye. Later, I find out that Sam named Gnarles Barkley. Barkley for short.

Late Thursday Morning Shane came over, I was just finishing up with the days harvest, when he stood awkwardly at the edge of the property.

“Morning!” I waved to him. He gave a short wave back. There were dark circles under his blue eyes. “Can I help you with something?”

“I was wondering about the last dog you have,” he said. I looked over my shoulder where the black and gray bearded pup lay on his back, sun bathing in the dirt. “Jas, that’s my niece, she was furious with Marnie when she found out she gave a puppy away,” he scratched the back of his neck. “She’s usually a quite little thing. But she was spitting fire.”

“I can imagine,” I nodded.

“And now Vincent has one..” his voice trailed off as he moved next to me. The pup rolled over and popped up on to his feet. Ash bounded over to us, I picked him up. He had already grown in the last week. Shane, pushed his finger to the dog’s upper lip exposing the baby teeth. The pup stuck out his tongue, licking Shane’s finger, a small smile broke through.

“I’m going to call him Gandalf, because of the gray beard. Do you think Jas will be able to say that?” He looked at me. His eyes were kind.

“How old is she?”

“Six.”

“She should be,” I nodded.

“Yeah,” Shane played with Gandalf’s soft floppy ears before clearing his throat. “I should get going. Marnie was getting supplies from Pierre’s she should be done by now.”

“If you need anything let me know. He should be potty trained by now.”

“Yeah, okay thanks,” with a small wave Shane disappeared back into town.

I looked down at Ash who was watching Shane retreat. He whimpered. “It’s okay bud, we can have everyone over for a play date,” I said to him. His tail wagged.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from the Egg Festival, but my heart leapt for joy at the sight of the many buffet tables. My eating habits had not been the best since moving to Pelican Town and the soft layer around my tummy was slowly disappearing. I generally only ate once a day now, eating breakfast after tending the farm. The rest of my day was spent running errands, fishing or scavenging for wild crops. By the time I got home I would be exhausted and collapse into bed with Asher.

I bee lined it to the first table, there were platters of egg dishes. Deviled eggs, scrambled, fried, hard boiled, poached, egg benedict, egg salad. Little breaded cups that looked to be filled with egg, spinach and ham. Plates of steaming sliced ham that smelled of cinnamon and honey were my first stop. I filled my plate before finding a bench. I would have to remember to ask Gus for a piece of leftover ham for Ash, who I left at home. I looked around, everyone was mingling. Eating with their friends and family. Haylee was taking pictures of everyone and everything. I smiled, I hadn’t interacted with her much, since I had returned, but I admired her passion for photography.

“Kit!” Robin called me from a few tables over and waved. She was sitting with her family, as well as Sam, his mom and little brother. “Come over here!”

I swallowed my mouthful of food before moving over to their table, taking the end seat across from Sam.

“What were you doing over there by yourself?” Robin asked.

“I didn’t want to be a bother,” I shrugged and then shoveled in a mouthful of potato salad. It was sweet and had a hint of vinegar in it.

“Oh please,” Jodi said with a smile.

“You’ll always be a bother,” Sam said with a smirk.

“Sam!” Jodi snapped, reached over her youngest son and slapped Sam on the back of the head.

“Ow!” Sam rubbed his head.

“Don’t be rude!” Jodi said through gritted teeth. I smiled and shook my head. “I would like to say I am used to it, but I don’t think that would help.”

“It wouldn’t!” Sam shook his head.

“So, Kit, how is the farm doing?” Demetrius asked.

“Honey, we aren’t here to talk about work,” Robin said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Across from her Sebastian had his chin resting on his fist, leg tapping furiously. Next to him was Maru who was looking at me expectantly, I hadn’t spoken to her much either.

I cleared my throat. “Oh, it’s fine, I don’t have much to talk about any ways. My world revolves around farming and Ash.”

Sebastian looked over at me. “You didn’t bring him either?”

I noticed for the first time no one had brought their dog besides Marnie, Gandalf was chasing Jas around the yard behind Sam’s house.

“Asher gets really excited about food. Like he can’t contain himself, so I thought it best to have him stay home. Or else he would probably be slip and sliding through the egg salad right now,” I sighed. Sebastian snorted.

“I know it’s late and the seeds are hard to find, but do you think you will be getting in Strawberry seeds?” Maru asked.

“Strawberries are our favorite,” Demetrius beamed.

“Yeah, if I can find the seeds!” I nodded. “The farm is actually doing well. You can walk around now, and I finally got around to cleaning the inside. It’s hard work but I enjoy it.”

“Hmm,” Demetrius glanced at Sebastian and drummed his fingers on the table. “Some people will never know what that is like.”

“Oooookay,” Sebastian said standing. “I’m going to go check on Asha.”

My mouth dropped open, shocked at the name he had picked. I didn’t have time to speak, Sebastian was already leaving.

Robin frowned at his retreating form, she quickly hid it with a smile. “Well, I’m glad you are enjoying it.”

“I know I could never do that work,” Jodi said, she was now running her fingers through Vincent’s unruly ginger hair.

“I wasn’t so sure at first. I’m positive if it wasn’t for visiting grandpa during the summer, I would have ended up going back to the city,” I said.

“I don’t think I would mind it too much,” Sam shrugged. “I could see myself taking care of some chickens. Planting crops.”

“I know I couldn’t do it,” Maru shook her head. “I will stick to my lab thank you.”

“Lab?” I looked at her.

“Yes, I’m a scientist and inventor!” Maru smiled. “I also work with Harvey at the clinic.”

“Wow, that’s pretty cool. Weird question, but I’m going to ask. I found some blue prints for sprinklers. I know that is probably nothing to you. But will yo-“

“Yes, I would love to help!” Maru grabbed my hands. I noticed behind her Demetrius’s eyes narrowed, while Robin’s face broke open into a smile. “That sounds like fun. I haven’t made sprinklers before, but I’m sure it’ll be cake!”

“Thanks, that would be a huge help!” I squeezed her hands.

“Mom, is there cake?” Vincent finally spoke, he had been pushing around the food on his plate the entire time. He had only eaten a couple of grapes.

“It looks like it, but you will need to eat more lunch first,” Jodi kissed the top of his head.

“I don’t want to be slow for the hunt,” Vincent said.

“Yeah, this year we are going to beat Abbie, isn’t that right kiddo!” Sam playfully shoved his little brother who looked up at him and smiled.

“Yeah!” Vincent nodded vigorously.

“Hunt?” I looked at everyone’s faces.

“There is an egg hunt every year,” Robin said.

“And every year Abbie wins!” Vincent bagged his fist on the table and huffed. I looked around for my purple haired friend. She was at a table with her parents, head on her palm, looking at an empty plate of food.

“They really shouldn’t let her search. She is a grown woman now,” Jodi sighed.

“It’s open to all ages,” Robin shrugged.

“Or make age events,” I said.

“That’s a good idea,” Demetrius nodded.

“Maybe mention that to Lewis,” Robin said to Jodi.

“Trust me, I am!” Jodi said. I noticed Gus bringing out new plates and unveiling chocolate frosted cupcakes. I excused myself and made it over to the table. I was stuffing one in my mouth when Pam made her way over and started to empty a flask into the punch. She held up a finger to her lips. I looked away, a smile spreading. Gus gave me permission to take some ham home to Ash then handed me a plate that was stacked up in food and wrapped in tin foil. “Do you know Linus?” He asked.

“The guy who lives behind Robin’s house?” I questioned taking the plate.

“That’s him,” Gus nodded then stroked his mustache. “He rarely comes to any of these events. He is always welcome, but I know he feels out of place. Do you mind taking him this plate for me?”

“Not at all!” I exclaimed and headed towards the mountains.

Linus was sitting at his campfire, a basket of wild plants next to him. He sat up straighter when he saw me, his eyes narrowing into a squint.

“Hey, I’m Kit,” I said with a small wave. “I took over my grandpa’s farm.” I shoved a thumb over my shoulder, in the direction of the farm. Linus didn’t say anything. I cleared my throat. “Any ways, Gus asked me to bring you this.” I sat the plate down on the stump he had pulled up to the other side of the fire. He glanced at the plate before looking back at me. I frowned, looking at him, to the tent, then the plate. His gray eyes never left my face.

“I guess I’ll be going, enjoy your day!” My customer service voice tuned in and I wanted to kick myself. I started away when I heard a small. “Thank you.”

I smiled to myself and started back to the square. Sebastian was locking the front door when I was in front of the house. His eye brows furrowed together when he saw me. “Checking up on me?”

“No, I brought plate to Linus,” I said. Sebastian turned his head up towards the mountains. “I don’t know about that guy,” he said.

“He seems harmless,” I shrugged.

“So did Ted Bundy,” he pointed out.

“Do you think Linus has a trail of bodies leading to the valley?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Everyone has something to hide,” Sebastian smirked. I rolled my eyes.

Everyone was waiting for us when we strolled into town. Lewis had a big cup of punch in his hand, Pam glanced at me, her grin widening. I wiggled my eyebrows at her before helping myself to my own cup.

“Everyone knows the rules!” Lewis began, there wasn’t any hint of the alcohol taking effect yet. “You have 3 minutes to search for the hidden eggs. Whoever finds the most wins!”

Abbie was jumping up and down in place. She waved me over, I shook my head, pointing to my cup, I made a big deal out of taking a drink from it.

“Ready, set, go!” Lewis shouted and the hunters ran in different directions. Jodi started to cheer on Vincent while Shane and Marnie cheered on Jas. Gandalf chased after the girl. Sam had entered the hunt as well and I noticed him slipping eggs into Vincent’s basket. Abbie darted from one location to the next, I could tell that her basket was filing up quickly. Emily had also entered who skipped along as she went. Lewis blew a whistle, and everyone came in and placed down their baskets. Both Sam and Emily’s were mysteriously empty, while Jas and Vincent’s looked just a little fuller. Abigail still won, but I snuck extra cupcakes to the kids and they quickly cheered up.

The sun was starting to set when the square began to empty. Conveniently it was when clean up also started. Gus and Emily lingered, packing food into containers. Sam and Alex helped with stacking tables and chairs. I was on garbage duty when Mayor Lewis staggered past me a deep set frown on his face. I watched after him, he stumbled one step at a time towards the north. I looked over my shoulder at Gus, who had paused in his own task to watch after the Mayor.

“Should I go after him?” I asked.

“If you would,” Gus nodded. I set down my garbage bag and headed after Lewis. It didn’t take me long to find him, he stood in front of the old Community Center. The old building had seen better days. Ivy grew up the side of the walls, there was a hole in the ceiling and years of rain had caused a moldy film on the windows.

I stood next to the Mayor looking up at the old building. Something inside it stirred, I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it.

“Eye sore, ain’t it?” Lewis said, his voice was filled with sadness.

“It’s charming,” I said softly. “Like the farm.”

Lewis chuckled. “This is what is left of the Pelican Town Community Center. It used to be the pride and joy of the town… always bustling with activity. Now look at it. It’s shameful.”

I could hear the pain in the old man’s voice.

“These days, the young folk would rather sit in front of the TV than engage with the community.” He sighed heavily. “But listen to me, I sound like an old fool.”

“No.. no you don’t. You sound like a Mayor concerned for his town,” I spoke, touching his arm softly.

Lewis sniffed. “Joja Corporation has been hounding me to sell them the land so they can turn it into a warehouse. Pelican Town could use the money, but there’s something stopping me from selling it. I guess old timers like me get attached to relics of the past.. Ah well.”

He finally turned and looked at me. “If anyone else buys a Joja Corporation Membership I’m just gonna go ahead and sell it.” Lewis dragged his feet towards the door and unlocked it. I followed him inside, the old floorboards groaned under our feet. The ivy had found its way inside, we left a trail of footprints in the dust that coated every surface.

Lewis paused looking at a hut that was erected in the corner of the room.

“Hmm? What’s this?”

“Do you think Vincent and Jas were playing in here?” I asked.

“Must’ve,” he shrugged. “This place is even more dilapidated than I remember.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say something a familiar chirp came from behind Lewis. The apple sized creature jumped up and down waving. I gasped and stumbled backwards.

“Kit!” Lewis steadied me. “What’s the matter are you ill?”

I moved to the side of Lewis and looked around, the creature was now gone. “I thought I saw something, there!” I pointed to the spot.

“Hmm… I wouldn’t be surprised if this place was full of rats.” Lewis said.

Again, the creature appeared behind Lewis, waving its little arms. My eyes widen and a scream came out before I could stop it. Lewis swung around, but the creature was gone. Hands clasped over my I stared at the spot. Lewis turned back to me. “You’re worrying me Kit!” He was frowning.

I looked around the room. Everything was quite now, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Counting to ten before releasing it and opening my eyes. “I’m sorry Lewis,” I smiled. “I must be more tired than I thought.”

Lewis gave me a tight smile. “I’m going to head home and get some sleep, I suggest you do the same. I’m going to keep this place unlocked from now on. Maybe you can help catch that rat if you have some extra time.” He gave my hand a small squeeze before walking outside.

I stood still and suddenly my senses open up, and the magic poured in. My spine prickled at the energy. I wondered down the hall a strange force leading me. Inside a small room I found a note on the floor, I shoved it into my bag not even bothering to read it, I knew I wouldn’t know the language that was written upon it. I left the room, finger tips trailing along the wooden paneled walls that lined the hallway. The old floorboards sang their ballad as I walked upon them, the dust flaring up around my shoes as I walked towards the door. The door shut behind me and I woke up, snapping out of the strange trance.

I stumbled away from the building gasping, I clutched at my chest as I retreated. I suddenly couldn’t get home fast enough and I ran towards the farm. I didn’t stop until I was inside, the door firmly shut behind me. Ash wiggled his way up to me, a big smile on his face.

“Hey buddy,” I gasped leaning down to pet him. I skipped my other nightly chores and only fed Asher. I fell into bed. That night I dreamed of the small creatures. They chirped and danced through the Valley, life returning to the land.

#Stardew Valley #Stardew Valley Farmer #Stardew Valley Fanfiction #Sebastian Stardew Valley #stardew valley sebastian #sebastian x farmer #farmer x sebastian #A New Sun

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michiamotippete · 5 years

Text

DARKEST MINDS AU

I watched the film and I had an idea. It started with “I’m going to write some headcanons”, but then I changed my mind and tried something different.

FOR THE FIRST TIME I’M WRITING A FIC. This is my first attempt ever, so enjoy and let me know what you think! Love ya!

oh yeah and thanks to @lovelyluce for being so soft and kind (she corrected my work)

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She was running. Her legs were burning, her breath caught in her throat. Nonetheless, the only thing she was feeling was fear.

After ten long and painful years, she managed to escape from the camp. She was the only one out of 2000 kids. Eleven years ago, started the great epidemic, that hadn't been a disease. The children started to die out of nowhere: parents cried, doctors hopeless, friends afraid, lovers heartbroken.

Her blonde hair floated behind her, she hoped it won’t get stuck in the branches. She couldn’t slow down, she needed to put distance between the monsters and herself. Today was the day they discovered she wasn’t a green: she was smart and clever, but she wasn’t as clever as the green people. She was an orange. She was rare and dangerous.

She tripped; brown eyes closing during the fall. She stopped at the end of a valley where a river flowed lazily. The moon reflected on the surface, making the eyes of the blonde search for the night sky. She loved the stars; it was something she had had in common with her mother. The last time they studied the night sky was the day before she was sent to the camp.

The disease was announced a year before. Today was her birthday and she was celebrating with her family. She was alive. She was surviving. Even though she was breathing and laughing, her parents couldn’t shake that feeling of losing her. Their friends, their neighbours, all of them had lost their babies. No one knew what meant to be a survivor, but they knew that the government was taking away the kids who hadn’t died. Lucy was in her bed between her parents: Layla, a loving and caring woman, and Jude, a strict but considerate man. Layla was telling her daughter about the stars and the constellations. Lucy had been hanging onto Layla’s words, her eyes sparkling.

-Lucy, it’s time for you to open your present!- Jude had told her with a tender smile on his lips. He handed out to her a small silver box, which Lucy took with excitement.

-Oh, thank you Papa and Mama!- the voice of the little girl was full of emotion. Her parents gifted her with something precious: her mother’s engagement ring. It was a simple ring with a star on the top and her parents had used a chain to make a perfect necklace.

-You are our star, our brightest gift. If something ever happens and you are apart from us, hold that ring and remember that we’ll love till the end of the world!- said Layla caressing the girl’s hair.

Later that night she went into her parents’ room and, after pressing a gentle kiss on her mother’s hand, she said they wouldn't need to worry about her anymore. Her eyes became orange and, in that moment, she saw her parents’ memories of her disappear.

The next morning Lucy wore her new necklace, ready to have breakfast. She'd had an awful nightmare and she was ready to forget it, but little did she know that it hadn't been a dream.

-Papa, can you make me some pancakes?-

The man looked around and when he directed his glance on the little blonde girl, his face became serious.

-What are you doing in my house? Don’t you have any parents?- he said, voice harsh.

Lucy didn’t understand what was going on. She started crying, saying that he was her father, but it was useless. That was the last day in which she saw her dad.

The blonde was now watching the moon in the sky. Silent tears sliding down her cheeks. She rubbed her eyes; it wasn’t the time to think about the past. Now was the time to go home.

After varying miles of running, she was exhausted, but she found a small store. She entered it carefully. The bell of the door rang, and she swore under her breath. “Well, if someone heard that I’m screwed!” she said to herself. The girl found a jumper and some jeans, they were a little tight on her voluptuous body, but they were better that the camp uniform. The jumper was pink and fluffy, perfect for the spring evenings. Her next stop was the bathroom, where she washed her face and watched her reflection in the mirror. She had livid bags under her big brown orbs, her cheeks were a little bit hallowed and her pink lips were sporting a split lip. She breathed out, closing her eyes and relaxing for a minute. She needed to rest; her body was burning from the effort.

She opened the door to search for something to eat, when her gaze encountered a small girl with long blue hair and rubber gloves. At her feet a white tabby cat. The little girl gasped with surprise; eyes wide.

-Hi!- blurted out Lucy. She couldn’t believe it! A kid out of a camp! She wasn’t the only one!

The blue haired girl gasped again and with a quick move, she removed one of the gloves. Near her, there was small coffee machine. Her hand flung over the display; brown eyes now tinted pale blue. Electric shocks were now directed to Lucy, who closed the door of the restroom before the electricity could catch her. She waited a few moments and flung open the door. The girl was missing. She searched around and caught a glimpse of blue in the distance. She sprinted towards the kid before she could run away. The girl opened the door of a van and entered it with her cat.

Lucy started to knock on the van desperate. -Hey! Please! Let me in! I won’t hurt you; I swear! People are searching for me, please, help me! I can help you too! Please!- she didn’t think she was this desperate until her eyes had laid down upon the tiny figure of a little blue haired girl.

The back door of the van flung open and she beckoned Lucy to climb up. The blonde slung on the floor of the van and mimed the words “Thank you” with her lips, breathless. They heard voices and the little girl used a blanket to hide the blonde. The doors flung open and three people climbed up into the van.

-Hi! Did you find anything interesting in the store, Wendy?- said an authoritative feminine voice.

-Uhm…not really…- told Wendy. Lucy felt something brush on her thighs and she heard some sniffing. The engine came alive and the van started moving.

-Where to, Ice Prick?- said a man’s voice. Not too loud, not too low. Just right.

-Head north Flame brain, when we need to turn, I’m gonna tell you!- said another voice.

-Are you sure? I don’t think you know how to read a map, you’re too dumb!- said the first man.

-Oi! I’m a green, I’m the intelligent one here. You’re the dumb one, Ash for Brains!- said the other one with a grunt.

-Guys!- echoed the voice of the woman -Don’t get started!-

-Yes ma’am!- the men said in unison. Lucy had to bite the inner part of her cheek to stop herself, she didn’t want to get caught because she laughed.

Meow. The thing, now she knew was a cat, started to mewl and touch her face with its paws. Meow. Another set of paws started to touch her back. “Crap!” thought Lucy.

-What’s there buddy?- said the man with the perfect voice.

“Now or never” said the blonde to herself. She sat up and the blanket slipped down on her figure, revealing her face.

-Lucy- everyone, except the little girl, gasped and the van stopped brutally.

-Who are you and what are you doing here?- a knife was now placed near her throat. Harsh brown eyes fixed in her own. Bright red hair was the only thing Lucy could see.

-I’m Lucy. I’ve escaped from a camp and I needed a ride home- said the blonde with breathless words.

-Erza, wait, it’s my fault! She saw me, I ran but she found me! She was desperate, I just wanted to help!- the eyes of the scarlet haired woman searched Wendy. She breathed out and pulled the knife away.

-I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt. One wrong move and you will regret it!- Lucy nodded. Fear was flowing through her veins. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

-I’m Natsu- said a pink haired boy with hazel eyes. He was handsome and Lucy could feel her cheeks heating up a bit. “Oh, come on Lucy, you don’t know him!” thought the blonde, slapping herself mentally. Near Natsu sat a raven-haired boy. He had a scowl on his face, much different from the heart-warming grin that was spreading across Natsu’s lips.

-This is Gray- said the pink haired boy pointing a finger to the other guy. Gray nodded, but the scowl remained glued to his expression.

-I’m Erza- the woman took the hand of Lucy and shook it a little -and the little one is Wendy-. When she said the girl’s name, her voice’s tone became a little sweeter. Wendy beamed at the blonde and waved her covered hand at her.

-It’s nice to meet you all!- Lucy smiled at everyone and waved kindly. Her eyes went to Natsu’s face and she swear she saw his cheeks dusted of a fair pink.

-Let’s go then!- he said turning to face the street. -Oh, I almost forgot! The blue one is Happy and the white one is Charle!- said the boy. Lucy was confused, but when she felt something curled on her lap she understood. There was a blue Chartreux sitting comfortably on her thighs. She started petting his head and the little guy started purring.

-I think he likes me!- said Lucy. It was the first time after ten years she was petting an animal. Natsu watched the scene in the rear-view mirror, hypnotized by the small smile on the blonde’s lips. His heart raced in his chest and his cheeks became hotter. He shook his head and resumed focusing on the street. A small smile grazing his lips too.

#one shot #nalu #nalu is my thing #fairy tail nalu #fairy tail #fairy tail natsu #fairy tail lucy #nalu fandom #nalu fanfic

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sherala007 · 4 years

Text

Short Story

The Cabin in the Cove

The perfume of the decaying leaves of the valley embraced me, holding me like a frightened old lady, while farther up the mountain, a fresher scent promised relief. Gnarled tree roots and drooping branches encroached on the trail, clutching at my head and feet as I trudged along, forcing me to dodge them. The weight of my gear shifted with my gracelessness, making me stumble into the rough bark of the closest mountain ash, scraping the heel of my hand.

My lower back twinged as I leaned forward, working my way up and out of the valley while trying to support the weight of my devious pack as it attempted to send me back down the hill. Complaining back and hand? What made me think I could go from weekend hikes to taking a full ten-day camping trip? I was a short, chubby, middle-aged office worker. I was not in shape for this at all. The next time I let a man piss me off this much, I'm just going to Florida!

Wheezing, I paused to appreciate where I stood. Boulders were scattered haphazardly as if tossed by playing giants. Colorful fall leaves waved on the trees, rustling in the breeze, some fluttering down, and sprinkled on the forest floor. The morning autumn sun scattered pale rays through the canopy, dappling the ground with shifting shadows. Clouds gathered, diluting the warmth of the sun. Wind whipped around trees, nipping at my skin like piranhas, sending fallen leaves into whirling dervishes.

The radio I carried warned of an approaching winter blast, but shouldn't arrive for a few days, but the air carried the ominous scent of burning wood and snow. There was no way that winter storm was going to hold off for a few more hours let alone a few more days. It was coming in and coming in fast. My three-season sleeping bag would be no protection against snow and my tent wouldn't bear the weight of snowfall. I had to find something more substantial – and soon.

Shrugging off my pack, I pulled out the map, GPS, and compass and tried to find the best place to go. About two miles up the trail, there was a cut off into Cades Cove National Park where there were cabins. At this point, I didn't care the park was closed for the season. I was aiming for the nearest cabin, fines be damned! Better yet, let one of the rangers find me on the grounds. Then I could get a lift back to civilization and go home to my nice warm bed, a hot shower, and delivery pizza. I tied my flashlight to the cord around my neck; tucked everything else back in the outer pouch; wriggled back into my pack and with a deep, determined breath, got moving.

An hour later I hit the plateau. I was making good time; tired and breathing hard, working up a healthy sweat, but moving well, all things considered. Almost numb from sore muscles from the neck down, I was not stopping. "Keep going, Moira. You can do this!" kept echoing in my head. Too soon, the snow started in small flakes, blowing fast on the unrelenting wind. I stopped again to check the map, making sure I was still on course; took a drink from my water bottle, geared up and shoved off again. Despite the aches and pains, I knew I couldn't slack my pace at all. The world around me had a drab cast to it. What was once colorful was now diluted and dingy. Everything seemed shadowy and somber on this stretch of trail. Trees loomed darker, more sinister like someone hid behind them at every turn. I was getting scared, beginning to feel as if I was being followed, or stalked. One foot in front of the other, I had to keep moving.

The snow morphed from jitterbugging flakes to thick, wet, clingy drops pelting me in the face. My hoodie was wet and my fingers were numb. I was so damn cold it made me angry. I begrudgingly admitted this was no small winter bluster but a full-blown blizzard. The trees thinned and I could just see what looked like a cabin at the edge of the tree line.

I sobbed out loud. "Please GOD, please let it be unlocked." I ran to the door facing the trees, joyful relief in my very grateful smile. I yanked it open only to feel it jerked out of my hand and slammed shut in my face.

"Oh no you fuckin' don't," I growled under my breath. My teeth chattered and hands violently shook with cold. I grabbed the handle with both hands, turned and yanked it again, pushing against the wind with what strength I had left, and forced my way inside. My pack hooked on the door jamb, spinning me around causing me to fall into the room. Finding myself disoriented on the floor, I tried to get up but the weight of my pack held me down. For a moment I couldn't move.

Shaking my head, I realized the wind and snow were no longer tormenting me. Looking around the room I saw the door was shut. The only light was from a small, grimy window in the front of the one, empty room. There was nothing of use. It was shelter and I was glad for it. In the dim of the interior, I tried to rise only to feel the pack jerk and shift, pulling me over, landing me painfully on my left side. I reached to unhook the waist belt of the pack, taking five tries to get my fingers wrapped around the end and feed it through the buckle, finally sliding it from my shoulders.

Knowing I had to quickly get out of my wet clothes, I propped the pack against the wall, pulling out my sleeping bag and a change of clothes. Relieved to find my packed clothes all dry, I attempted to change. Shaking, it took a bit to get my shoes off. The laces were covered in snow and matted together. Rid of them, I stood barefoot on the dirty floor and threw my wet clothes in a pile off to the side. Naked, I bent to start putting on my socks when I felt something on my bottom. Swatting, I felt nothing there. There was no welt from a bug bite. It almost felt like a pinch, but that was impossible. I was alone in here. I glanced over my shoulder just to be sure and felt the hairs on my arms start to rise.

I dressed quickly and laid my wet items out to dry as best I could, praying they wouldn't freeze. I picked up my flashlight and looked around the room. There was nothing in there but me, the dust, and whatever bugs were hiding in the crannies. I peeked out the window only to see quite a bit of snow piling up. I went back to my sleeping bag, propped it against the wall, stepped in, zipping it up the side and sat down. I pulled it over my head with a small opening for me to peek out and cocooned myself. Five minutes later, I was sound asleep.

Suddenly, I felt myself jerked to my left. My right shoulder felt as if it'd been hit. Shrugging out of the sleeping bag, I was on my feet bracing for anyone to come at me. My eyes adjusted to the dark and I saw nothing there. I grabbed the flashlight from around my neck and shone it around. Everything was where I'd left it. The front and back doors were still shut. Nothing was there.

Snuggling back into my bag, I kept the flashlight on. I was shaking from cold and fright and wide awake. I reached for the radio, thinking it might be a good idea to find out how long the storm would last, but there was nothing but static. Figuring the dial must have moved I tried to fine-tune it but still got nothing. I sat listening to static as it numbed my heart and hopes. How the hell was I going to get out of this mess? Static like white noise still playing from the radio I heard a guttural, masculine breath, "nnnooooo...."

"What the hell was that?" I dropped the radio on the floor, knocking the batteries loose. Silence filled the cabin. The pressure seemed to increase, my skin prickling up my arms and into my ears like stinging fire ants. I squirmed and slapped all over, feeling along my arms for bugs but found none. I scrambled out of my sleeping bag and began to pace. Surely, I'm hearing things. Ghosts don't exist. People just have overactive imaginations! I've had too much time alone and the current stress is getting to me. I need to get some sleep and get home ASAP. I couldn't let this get to me. I fixed the radio, made sure I was snug against the wall, hunkered down in my bag, and closed my eyes. Focused on deep breathing, I drifted back off to sleep.

The pressure returned with a vengeance, weighing me down as if I were under ten blankets. The air felt heavy like a Florida summer, but the cold, winter air shimmied with swirls of ice fog inside the cabin. It didn't feel like bugs this time. It felt as if someone were standing over me, painfully invading my personal space. There was no sound, just a weighty, dense atmosphere. The floorboards slightly vibrated as if someone was trying to creep around. Quietly I pulled the flashlight out, made sure it was facing away from me and clicked it on, shining it around the room. There was no one there. I could still feel the steps. Was there an animal on the roof causing it? I listened again but didn't hear the skittering of a critter.

STOMP STOMP STOMP

I jumped up and out of the blankets at lightning speed. The flashlight beam bounced erratically. I looked around again; nothing. This was crazy! There had to be a reasonable explanation. I peered out the window but there was nothing. I was in socks so there should have been no sound, but I heard footsteps come up behind me. There was no reflection in the window but my own. I clicked off the light, let my eyes adjust, and looked again. Nothing.

Someone grabbed my shoulders, fingers dimpling my skin. Spinning around, I faced nothing, but the smell of cherry tobacco wisped against my cheek. It felt so close I should be able to see someone but all I saw was my own breath on the air. This was crazy. I hadn't been alone on the trail long enough to lose my mind. The hands-on my shoulders moved to my hips, digging into my flesh so hard I knew I'd have bruises. I was yanked into what felt like the thick leg of a tall man slamming against my pelvis. I trembled at the suddenness of it all. One second someone was there, then gone, the pressure in the air left and all was still.

I stumbled back to my sleeping bag, legs giving way, and bundled up. I didn't try to think. I was just numb, shivering in fear. I didn't do up the sleeping bag, instead, I tucked my knees to my chest, arms wrapped tightly around me. I felt the bag move up over my arm and tuck itself under my chin, wrapping me so tightly I couldn't move. My eyes closed and I felt a hand touch my head, fingers squeezing the top of my skull, pinning me still. After that? Nothing.

I woke up a few hours later to pitch blackness silence. Hitting the button on my watch, it flashed two forty-five at me. I crawled out of my sleeping bag and walked to the window again. The snow had slowed to flurries, looking like cotton rain, my breath fogging up the window. I started to turn away when I saw finger swipes go through the fog, and heard nails dragging along the glass. I heard shuffling along the floor and turned around. Clicking on the flashlight I saw my clothes being moved violently to the edge of the room next to my pack, leaving smears in the grime on the floor.

"Who are you and why are you doing this," I demanded. "Who the hell do you think you are?" My shout echoed through the small space. My mind was beyond doubting anymore. The breath, the stomping, something touching me, I couldn't deny it. Someone, something, was here with me. I got no response. "Why are you trying to scare me?" I waited, fists balled, shoulders squared. Nothing. I walked around the cabin looking for a nameplate or anything inside. Still nothing. I knew they'd have one out near the road with the particulars of who used to live here but I wasn't about to go in the storm. Despite the cold inside, it was worse out there.

I sat back down and tried to think. There was a legend of sorts about a man who lived in the area when it was declared a national park by the feds. They evicted everyone and he refused to leave, putting up quite a fight. Was this cabin his? I strained, unable to remember details. There were snatches of memory; old landmarks, but none of it clicked Physical and mental exhaustion took their toll. I wasn't frightened anymore. I was angry!

I remembered a map of the Cove from my last trip to the park, putting the pieces together; the weathered barn, the old mill, the rustic visitor's center. The last cabin on the trail, there was something about it. Yes, the last cabin was small, one room only. This one fit that description. It was almost as old as the Primitive Baptist Church at the center of the park and built pre-Civil War. The gateways flew open. The Civil War! That had something to do with this cabin and the guy who built it. My mind began to race. I got up and began to pace back and forth, my fingers snapping.

His name had something to do with a president; or was it two presidents. Names, why would no names come to my mind? I paced quickly, "Dammit!" I stomped once. "Fine, I'll start from the beginning. George Wash…" Violence and fury rushed up at me, pushing me backward. I felt him standing an inch away, trying to invade every sense I had, from the scent of cherry tobacco to an ice-cold chill. The vibrating energy of his presence raised the hair on my arms. He was here. His presence was a powerful electrical charge in the air after a storm. Yes!

"GEORGE WASHINGTON CARTER SHIELDS!" I shouted to the darkness. There was nothing visible, but I knew he was there. "That's who you are," I defiantly declared standing in the room. I would not back down. "Why are you doing this to me? I had nothing to do with your troubles." I stepped to the left to walk around him and felt him shift, blocking my path. There was no physical body there, but every fiber of me said he was. I moved to the right with the same result. He would not let me back to my bag. I took a step back and felt his arms wrap around me, pinning me tight.

His invisible form pressed against me. He was a large man with thick muscles from the hard work, living off the land. His legs pressed against mine, thick from tramping these same woods. One giant hand held my back, fingers reaching from one shoulder blade to the other, his other hand had a vulgar grip on my bottom, covering the entire left cheek; fingers curving down indecently. His barrel chest pressed me. He felt to be every bit of six feet tall and just as wide compared to my short frame. He was now face to face with me, his nose brushing mine; not warm and living, but frigid with death.

"Are you trying to intimidate me," I questioned. "I'll only be here for the night. Can't you see the weather outside," I asked. "Why would that bother you?" I tried to raise my arms but couldn't. I couldn't turn my head. His energy vibrated through me like a wolf growl. I could feel his frustration by the way he held me; wrapped in solid iron bars, cold and frozen. Fear returned.

"Let me go, please," I whispered. "All I want to do is rest and stay warm until morning. It's freezing outside." In my heart I was scared but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing it. I looked where I thought his eyes would be and tried to keep my voice calm. "I promise. I will leave tomorrow and I won't come back. Please, let me go." I felt his arms loosen a little allowing me to shift in his grip. I shouldn't have moved.

I twisted a little to step away, but he didn't release me. Movement ground me against him, awakening a new desire. His arms tighten again, not to pin me, but to prevent me from walking away. His erection began to grow against me. Both hands were now cupping my backside, forcing me to lean back and grind my hips against him even more. He lifted me higher on his thigh, standing me on my tip-toes. I teetered bringing my numbed hands up to brace against his icy-hot chest.

His cheek brushed mine, our noses bumping, his lips grazing mine, but not to kiss me. The tip of his nose gently traced my cheek, moved along my forehead, and over to my ear. He followed my hairline, smelling me like a dog scents his prey. His exploration moved along my jaw, my ear, and onto my neck and I heard him whisper, "Mine now…" his breath causing my hair to float. His grip tightened and he bit into the curve of my neck making me scream in surprise and pain.

Blood dribbled down over my collarbone. His right hand came up, slamming my left cheek followed by a backhand to my right. Shielding my face with my arms did no good. He passed through them as he hit me repeatedly across the face. I tasted blood as my lips split and several teeth were knocked loose. My legs gave out beneath me. He grabbed me, lifting me and hurling me through the air, slamming me into the wall. Fireworks flashed behind my eyes as I hit and slid to the floor.

I tried to get up before he came at me again but wasn't fast enough. He kicked me in my stomach, again and again, lifting me with the force of the blows. I curled up into a fetal position trying to shield myself from him, visibly shaking in terror and pain, trying to make myself as small as I could but it was no use.

I felt his hand dig into my hair, grabbing a fist full, pulling me up. He pinned me to the wall with his body as his hands groped and pinched my breasts through my clothes. "STOP! Please no!" I tried in vain to push him away from me. It did no good as my hands just passed through the cold of him. I couldn't escape.

"How cowardly to rape a woman!" His anger boiled over to blind rage. I was thrown to the other side of the room, falling to the floor like a rag doll. His fury pursued me like a hurricane. He picked me up again, slamming me into the wall, bruising every part of me, and with each impact, new stars popped behind my eyes. I gave up all efforts of trying to defend myself. There was no escape.

Thrown back to the other side of the room, I fell in a heap face down on the floor. A booted foot stomped onto my back and hips sending fire burning through my spine. The cabin shook with his fury. I couldn't raise my arms. I couldn't move my head. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or closed. I only felt agony. I couldn't breathe. Then I felt … nothing.

All movement stopped, but I could still feel his energy crackle around me. There was a gurgling sound coming from the floor next to me so I opened my eyes to look. Everything was grey, down to the grain of the wood. Seeing the reflection in the window, I wasn't alone.

There in the glass, stood the specter of George Washington Carter Shields. How was he visible? How could I move after all he did? He began to laugh. Oh my God! I realized I no longer felt hot or cold. I looked at him directly. "What is going on," I hissed. He raised his finger to point at the floor.

Crumpled like a pile of rags was my body; battered and broken. Blood ran from my mouth, nose, and the back of my head, pooling on the floor. My lower back was concaved, hips cocked at a strange angle. My right wrist was bent sideways. There were bruises over all my exposed skin. I was dead. The ghost had killed me.

~~~

A braided rope hung across the top step of the porch, preventing anyone from entering the one-room cabin and there was a historical plaque out front by the parking lot by the road. The doors were removed, replaced with Plexiglas so people could see inside. Once few were brave enough to visit; now many came to gawk. Unexplained murder will do that.

Everyone took pictures. Now and then an image would show in a rare photo; copies of which were sent to the visitor's center. Pictures would show a woman standing in the window, one hand on the glass. She always looked as if she were crying. Even rarer still would be a man behind her in the pictures, glaring at her. None of them were displayed. The Rangers were ordered not talk about what was found in that cabin one late autumn after a freak blizzard. They answered no questions of a supernatural nature. There was no such thing as ghosts.

But in town, you could hear stories of a woman found murdered in the little cabin at the end of the ring road in Cades Cove. It happened on the night of a blizzard, about four years ago. Her name was Moira Fuller and she was forty-four years old. She had only been in Tennessee for a few years after moving from Connecticut. Rumor had it she decided to take a camping trip after breaking up with her boyfriend. The storm came upon her quickly causing her to seek shelter but the only place she could find was in the Carter Shields' cabin. He was a Civil war veteran who hated Yankees. They took his land and he vowed to take it back. He never did. He wasn't even buried near the cabin where he was happiest. After he died, there were rumors of his ghost roaming. Any time a Yankee went in, something bad always happened to them. Moira didn't know that. She was found beaten to death in the cabin a week after the storm. The police thought her boyfriend might have followed her and killed her but he had an airtight alibi. They assumed that some random psycho hiker followed her and killed her. There was no trace of anyone else with her.

To this day her death is still unexplained.

#short story #horror #ghost story #original fiction #Cades Cove fiction #Tennessee mountains

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harunoheart · 5 years

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Oneirophrenia C7

———————

Sasuke Uchiha

———————

The next morning we woke up at sunrise. The fire pit was still smoldering from the night before, a few coals glowing in the pile of ashes.

I threw some dirt on the coals to suffocate the flame and did a final check on our rations for the day. Our goal was to travel for a few hours at most, just a quick here and back trip to test Sakura’s distance theory...but we packed enough for two days, just in case.

“Are you ready to go?” She asked, looking up as she laced her boots. Her backpack sat next to her, full of medical supplies she preemptively summoned last night.

I gave her a quick affirmation and pulled out a few barrier tags from my cloak. Placing three in a triangulated position around our campsite, I activated the seal with my chakra and watched the campsite shimmer into the background of the forest. That should protect us from unexpected visitors, at least the human ones.

Squirrels always seemed to find their way through these things.

Sakura walked up beside me and slung her bag over her shoulder with a determined smile on her face. “You’re up first, Sasuke-kun.”

Concentrating my chakra into my eyes I felt the Rinne-sharingan whirring to life. My vision shifted into hyper awareness and as a breeze passed through the forest I was suddenly aware of every leaf falling off the trees as the first signs of autumn made itself clear.

Out of my peripheral, I could see Sakura tightening the Velcro on her gloves, anticipating anything. Her forearms flexed and I could see her pulse racing in her wrist. I turned my head so she wasn’t in my line of sight while I opened the portal.

Focusing all my chakra I picked a fixed point in space. Visualizing a pinprick sized hole tearing wider and wider still. The trees began to distort and the portal came into view, black and ominous and wildly unstable.

I could only keep it open for a moment or two. Widening the portal until we could safely jump through we were finally ready to begin our mission.

“Let’s go.”

————

Stepping through the portal felt like jumping into a magnetic field. You can feel the shifting of the atmospheric pressure as we entered the mountain range.

The sky glowed with an ominous green, but the sun rose in the east, just like home. You could see the hazy outline of the moon where Kaguya and Zetsu are imprisoned, fading into the sky as the sunlight filtered through the atmosphere.

Sakura looked around, scanning our surroundings for threats. “So far so quiet,” she said, kneeling down to the earth. Grabbing a handful of dirt from the ground she examined the soil. “It’s damp, and cool, it probably rained a few days ago. There’s potential for sustaining plant life but...” she looked around again straining her eyes into the distance, “not a tree in sight.”

“Grab a sample, everything helps.” I allowed my eyes to rest from the strain, a headache beginning to form. Sakura took a vial from her bag, packing the dirt inside and capping it with a cork before labeling it with the Kanji for mountain again.

A wave of exhaustion washed over me as the flow of chakra to my eyes suddenly halted. I pinched the bridge of my nose and waited for the headache to pass. On my left I heard the sound of water sloshing in a bottle.

“Here, take a break. It’s my turn,” she smiled, handing me the drink. I gratefully took it while she rummaged through her bag for supplies.

Sakura pulled out a Kunai and a stack of what appeared to be exploding tags. I watched as she wrapped the handle of the knife with the parchment and pricked her finger on the blade, placing a drop of blood on the handle before embedding it in the dirt on the top of the peak we stood on.

“How good is your eyesight?” She asked, putting the extra tags back in the bag.

“Do you have to ask?” I said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes, “If we run into trouble, this beaconing tag is coded to my chakra. Wherever we end up, I can activate it to send up a flare so we can find this location again.” Sakura ran her other hand over the pinprick to heal. Her hand glowed green as she continued, “if we need to, can you use Amenotejikara to switch places with the kunai, or do you need something bigger?”

As to be expected, Sakura continues to surprise and impress me. Her analytical skill is almost at the level of Shikamaru.

“Theoretically, a kunai should work, but I’ve never brought anyone else with me with my Amenotejikara.”

“Then we will have to test your range with it while we explore.” She said smiling. Getting up off the ground and dusting off her knees she maintained the sparkling sense of optimism she had as a kid. I’ll never admit it out loud but it made the work feel less heavy. I appreciated it.

“Your theory about relative dimensional space seems to be holding up so far. The sun seems to be rising in the same direction as back in our world. We should travel A few miles south. If you’re right, we should be able to open up another portal closer to the main road we traveled on.”

Sakura nodded in affirmation and we began to walk, the kunai glinting in the sunrise behind us.

——

“Sasuke?”

“Hn...”

“You see it too...right?”

“....yeah.”

The valley in front of them shimmered like a prism, reflecting light in a soft wave that seemed to breathe with the landscape. It looked like a barrier of some kind, stretching out across the mountains for miles beyond where we could see.

Sakura picked up a rock from the floor and tossed it at the apparition from where we stood, a good 30 feet away. It appeared to fall right through, not disturbing or awakening anything, so we cautiously got closer.

Looking up towards the sky the shimmer stretched into the cloudless blue, its iridescent reflection glittering in the sun.

“Sasuke, look...” Sakura pointed straight ahead. Our outlines began to reflect themselves in the prism, like a cloudy haze. The figures mirrored ours as Sakura lifted her right arm, the reflection moved it’s left. “Do you think it’s some sort of genjutsu?”

“It’s definitely a trap. Until we know what it does, we should be cautious,” I said. Sakura nodded in agreement, grabbing a kunai from her pouch and preparing for a fight. Out of my periphery I see her try to take a step forward, and instinctively blocked her movement with my arm.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Naruto isn’t here, so one of us has to,” her hand reached up to grab mine, “And you’re out of chakra,” she said, shoving past me without hesitation and approached the shimmer in front of her. Her hazy reflection did the same, gaining clarity with each step. Soon she was face to face with a mirror image with an iridescent sheen.

Sakura moved her head side to side and watched as the copy did the same. She side stepped, and the copy moved in sync with her, but with a slight lag. I readied my grip on my sword and stepped closer, poising to interfere.

Slowly, Sakura reaches out towards her shimmery self and smiles. The reflection smiles back. My heart suddenly raced with anxiety as they got closer...I had a bad feeling about this...

Their fingertips touched and it was like the world collapsed.

“Look out!!” I yelled, drawing my sword. But it was too late...

The shimmer collapsed and I heard Sakura scream. Running towards her as she collapsed on the ground I don’t see any sign of the shimmery Sakura or of the barrier that divided the valley. I scooped Sakura off the ground and propped her up against a nearby boulder.

Her face shimmered with an iridescent sheen before fading back into her skin.

“Sakura...Sakura wake up,” I shook her shoulder and pressed my hand against her cheek. She was still breathing, but was fully unconscious. Great. Im out of chakra and my teammate is passed out.

I couldn’t even tell if she was under a genjutsu or not. I drew my sword and decided to scan the surroundings again. The shimmer was gone, and the horizon looked the same as it did in every other direction. Full of fucking mountains. I grit my teeth and tried to strategize the next move when I heard a deep, guttural laugh from behind me.

A chill went down my spine as I turned around.

Another deep, sinister laugh erupted from Sakura’s chest. She straightened up and her eyes glosses over with a dark haze.

The smile on her face was not hers anymore, it was sadistic and dangerous.

Ice ran through my veins as I saw her body become possessed. My heart dropped in my chest and I took a step backwards, gripping the handle of my sword.

“Aaah...Finally!,” she laughed, her hands rising up in front of her face. She clenched her fists, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Some fresh fucking air.” She pulled the hitai-ate off her hair and shook it out, tousling it so it was more loose and messy than usual.

“Who are you?” I asked, ready to strike at any moment. Sakura looked at me confused.

“Who am I?” She asked, raising a finger to her chin to ponder she finally “What do you mean, Sasuke-Kun? It’s just me....” She drawled out and feigned an innocent look before a smirk found its way into her face. She bit her lip playfully and I tried not to think about why I felt a blood rush.

Shit. This was bad.

I pulled the sword from its sheath and pointed the blade at her neck. I didn’t want to hurt her though, so this was going to be difficult. I needed my sharingan so I could get inside her mind and figure out why she was acting like this.

“Leave her. Now.” She laughed again, stepping towards me.

“Oh please,” she said, her voice low and dripping with sarcasm, “I’ve been here the whole time, Sasuke-kun. Hiding in plain sight,” she touched her fingertip to the blade and sliced it. Without breaking eye contact with me she put the wounded finger into her mouth and moaned. “That shimmery thing probably just scrambled my consciousness around,” she pondered, healing her finger, “I have an awful headache...” she pouted.

I still didn’t have enough chakra to activate my sharingan, I needed to stall her. I pressed the blade against her throat instead. “What are you?” She smiled sweetly, her face looking so much like the girl I knew but those ghostly eyes left me feeling uneasy. I had to think fast, how do I free her from this without...

With a flick of her finger, the blade shattered. Disintegrated down to the hilt until I was left with nothing but the leather grip in my hand. In my surprise she caught me off guard and stepped in closer.

“Mmm...” she sighed, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. “Are you worried?” She sighed, melancholic and a little pouty. Her fingertips traced my collarbone through my shirt, I looked down to see her usual bright green eyes were now dark, like a forest. Her chakra felt the same, but it had a different flow to it now. Usually it ebbed as naturally as breathing, but now...now it was almost playful. It reminded me of the Ninneko, when their tails would sway back and forth before pouncing.

“Think of me like a Genjutsu. Sakura’s hidden will. She created me on accident, a long time ago. When she was just a little girl struggling to find herself. I’ve been here since before we even met you.”

Her hand reached up to grab my jawline and she held it firmly in her grasp as she leaned in, stopping just before kissing me.

“Do you want to know where she is?” She whispered.

I didn’t answer.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. We share the same heart after all. My attraction to you however, is a little more...primal than hers...that is if you feel the need to differentiate. Technically I’m just unrestrained.” She dragged her fingertip under my chin and stepped away with a flick of her wrist. “I’ll give you some of my chakra if you want, so you can find her in my memories.” She held out her hand, smirking. “Unless you wanna have a different kind of fun,” she winked.

Ignoring the uncomfortable forwardness of THAT...her offer felt like a trap. “What’s the catch.”

“No catch, Sasuke-kun. But I’m warning you, it’s not very pretty in here,” she pointed to her head. “And now that I’m the one awake, all of her demons have come out to play. All the hatred, sadness, and suffering we endured is being let out of all the little boxes she put us in to ‘compartmentalize’. You just need to find which one has dragged her under. Sakura manifested me out of her fear of being anything less than delicate,” She sneered at the word like it was poison. “There is an entire realm in her mind that belongs to me and the illusion she created to restrain herself in reality. This is where you need to start your search for her consciousness. I’m warning you though...it doesn’t take kindly to visitors, just ask Ino.”

“What does the Yamanaka have to do with this?”

“See for yourself,” She said, holding out her hand .

I weighed the options...and hesitantly reached out.

The rush of chakra filled my body like a glass of water and my sharingan spun to life.

———————

Sakura Haruno

———————

Am I ...dead?

I felt myself blink but the world around me was nothing but darkness.

What happened?

I lifted my hands and was pleasantly surprised I could see them. I looked down at my feet, bare and standing in...water?

Cautiously, I took a step forward. The sound of water splashing with my footsteps echoed in the darkness.

Where am I?

I looked around, but saw nothing but black. I took a few more steps forward but heard a sound coming from behind me. I turned around to find a younger version of myself, crouched down near the ground and crying softly.

Coming face to face with my younger self was...jarring. I was so small...

My hair was choppy and growing in uneven, it covered my tiny round face in a halfhearted attempt to hide. I kind of wanted to laugh, the little pout on my baby face was so cute and sad at the same time. I remember feeling like an outcast, being teased.

I know now that what I went through wasn’t anything compared to what Naruto had to deal with growing up but as a child that was my reality. My world was so small, and I stayed safe for a long time.

I walked towards her and crouched in front.

She looked up at me and wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. Putting on a brave face before looking up at me.

“I’m lost...” she said softly, wiping the tears from her face.

“Me too,” I smiled, holding out my hand, “Do you want to look with me?”

I wasn’t even sure what we were looking for, but it beat sitting in the darkness.

The little me nodded and took my hand, and without anything else to do - we started walking.

————

Sorry for the VERY late update everyone. I just had to pick up and move my entire life across the country so I’ve had a lot on my mind. But the new Sasuke Retsuden spoilers are giving me LIFE and I’m ready to jump into writing this story again.

I have a lot planned, and a lot of puzzle pieces to assemble so bare with me.

Hope you enjoy!

#fanfiction #oneiropherenia #chapter 7 #Sasuke Uchiha #Sakura Haruno #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku

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theasexualelfqueen · 5 years

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And I Saw An Angel

Jane was gone. Jane looked upon the window with large unforgettable doe eyes and simply disappeared. The years of intrusive thoughts had caught up to her and so she jumped out of the bridge into the pond late at night. The bridge that connected the city Waterlow to Yetnesum. That glow of her body still appears in the pond, but not ethereal or dreamy. It's profound sadness. But Jane isn't at anywhere except her own grave. She doesn't haunt anyone or the place she died. There's no body where she haunts, just pieces of ashes. She didn't want anyone keeping her ashes. And just where she stood, ghosts, young and old wait to cross on. But to them they have a task. They don't think of these tasks until those who have ascended come back down to haunt them about it. Angels haunting ghosts. That would make great idea someday don't you think ? So in rain she can't feel and neither the suns, she waits and sits against the headstone, small and lost with ancient architectural touches.

She did not care what they found her in but saw she was in a dark gown, like those from 1940s mimicking what fair ladies wore in the Civil War Confederate arms. She smiled and found the purpose of it all too real. Perhaps what she wanted in the life before she'd go to a point that we cannot look down and see the earth's pastures. She blocked out the sounds of confused children not knowing where they were as she did when she was on Earth. At 5 am the morning after a bright light with an angel not of of his biblical depiction showered her in dust of gold. She turned up her face and saw, staring dazed at the brown figure with the porcelain skin. "Jane" he intoned. My eyes were transfixed. "Jane, I come to you and ask of your ears to listen. At noon, when the sun is covered partially by the clouds, I'll allow you a physical form. Your family. They'll be coming to bask your grave in flowers. If you can find forgiveness for them who have wronged you, you may join the seat of heaven. Good luck." And with his dove wings, he rose and flew away. She tried to speak but all that was able to get out was a low frequency 'wha?'. Her skin, the sun scorching down on the headstone and the barely there wind. Feeling.

There were no other ghosts around. The children crying weren't perceptible. It seemed crazy but the talk seemed to have pushed time all the way forward. No way the sky could be so blue in the early morning of 5. She's somewhere hidden in the valley, not so close to the street, so she can look in the horizon and see the walking somberly bodies of her sister and her mother. In hands, they hold roses, pink and wrapped with paper. She can see the slow eyes and the missing reactions when they see her. She rises from sitting, now she's standing and she's looking over at them, beckoning them. They move foward. "Jane...w-what's this ?" Mother walks with an apprehensive stride. "Don't worry I haven't faked my death I-" "I wasn't worried at such a thing, only if...if you've come back to haunt us." My sister stops beside her, jaw slack and wide. "Jane!" "Rosemary."

Observing their summer dresses, pretty and white in the sun, She smiled.

"Stand. I'd like to talk." And so they stand their brown eyes peering at her with disbelief. "I've come to tell you that I forgive you." Inhale and exhale. "That I have not come to hate you for your ignorance and your chaos rained down upon me." Close my eyes. I have done this not to forget, but rather move on." Silence. She open my eyes and see them staring confused. "What have you to forgive us for ?" "Condemning me. My depression frightened you. But that fright did not help when it turned to anger did it ?" "What about the stress you've put on us ? The rage when it wasn't called for. The outpour of angry pickings ? Can we not blame you for that ?" Rosemary blurted out tightening her grip around the flowers.

"You can. But don't forget the help that was being neglected to be given. The understanding so graciously out of your hands." "So can you not share the blame too ?" "I've had my mistake and ruthlessly criminalized myself for them. But then you've got to make peace with yourself. Before you've got to cross the lonesome road Rose. You'll struggle for years and decades." "She's just as crazy dead as she was alive." She turned to mother. "Come on ! We're going." She took mother by the arm. Mother was crying into her shoulder where the roses were being carried. She threw them at the grave gently. Rosemary threw hers down on the ground. She thought she was going to step on them under her thick wedges but she walked away from the valley.

She had forgave them, but they have not forgiven her. Slowly the wonderings trapped me and put her in a vicious cycle of nervousness. Life was to be lived here, seeing more and more dumped here, never going anywhere. "Jane" She turned to look at the face of the angel. Still brown, still androgynous. "You have succeeded my wishes and the above's as well. My eyes brighten with shock. "But I have not have their forgiveness." "But you have forgiven them. And that is all I required of you." He stretched out his hand. She takes it. The trees, the cars, the sky all dissapear as they ascend. "And now, my dear Jane to beyond we go."

(This is an old work so if this does not have the proper grammar or spelling, please excuse me, I was seventeen or sixteen then)

#writing #writeblr #writeblogging #story #short story #black writer #teen writer #i wrote this when i was young #excuse me #grammar #writer

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chaosunit0010 · 5 years

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Campaign Prologue and Concept: Lord of Destruction

So I've been running a 5e campaign for the last eight weeks under the name of "Lord of Destruction" on Roll20. The campaign has been using a custom setting that I had been working on and off for a few months. The campaign setting is intended to blend sci-fi and fantasy, where a perfect world if being set upon by a seemingly unstoppable force. I wrote the prologue when I originally posted the campaign when I opened it up to the public when looking for a party to start the campaign. The game has been going well, apart from an early rocky start. I eventually plan on taking all the content I'm creating for the campaign, including homebrew monsters, classes, subclasses, deities, magic items, and weapons. But I've found myself taking a look at the prologue and was curious what other people thought about it, as well as some of the early campaign events that occur.

Prologue:

Long ago the world of Serune was consumed by chaos and turmoil. The war saw its civilizations and empires fall and rebuild as agents of evil and chaos brought death and destruction in their wake. Unleashing countless horrors upon the world. From horrible nightmares from the abyss. Unending hordes from the negative plan. Unknowable terrors from the farthest reaches of the stars. And cruel twisted and vile tyrants lording over the people of the world. There seemed to be no end to it.

Until one day a group of adventures rose to the challenge and fought against the tide of evil that was certain to bring complete destruction to the world. Twelve champions rose from the ashes and sorrow, ready to face the evil that had torn their world apart. They were known as the Guardians, The Wizard Korvu, The Cleric Sunarra, The Paladin Nicholas, The Bard Gold, The Barbarian Vendris, The Warlock Shadow Man, The Ranger Thorn, The Sorcerer Resona, The Druid Swan, The Rogue Dust, The Monk Jet, and The Horned Guardian. Though their goals did not always align and all them were not of pure heart, they put their differences aside to ensure their world would have a future.

They fought for many years tearing down foe after foe and surviving crisis after crisis. Gaining many trusted allies on the way and lost many friends during their adventures. Forming organizations and armies that they lead into battle in the pursuit of bringing peace, stability, and protection to the land. After many grueling battles and great loses at the hand of their enemies. They faced their final foe, a king that had once ruled over much of the world, now empowered by demonic energy after sacrificing the souls of his people.

The final war was long, with many champions falling during the fight as the two forces went to war. Then during the final battle, the twelve heroes faced the king alone. This would be the greatest challenge they ever face. As the champions began to fall victory seemed to flee from their grasp. But in one last desperate attempt to stop the King, The Horned Guardian channeled all of his life force into a single attack, shattering the king's soul, destroying him forever.

With the death of the king, the world had finally found peace. The Horned Guardian was honored by the City where he died, as it was rebuilt in his honor and a tomb was created for his final resting place. The people celebrated and exonerated the Guardians for their work in protecting and saving them. But the Guardians would soon disband.

With their final goodbyes the remaining heroes went their separate ways, never to see each other ever again. Resona would remain behind and help in rebuilding the city and standing vigil over The Horned Guardians Tomb. While the others went and began helping rebuild the other cities that had been destroyed during their long war. They would spend their final days helping bring up the people out of the ashes and bring forth a new age of prosperity.

The Eleven cities reborn from the efforts of the heroes would continue to grow long after their time. After the passing of 1000 years, the world had completely changed. As an age of industry was born with research in magic and technology saw rapid advancement, with the creation of firearms, mechanical servants and other wonderous inventions. The Cities continued to expand far beyond anyone could ever imagine. The cities had grown twenty-fold. Each now the greater in size then the kingdoms they were once a part of. These would be known as the Prime cities.

The cities became self-sustaining providing all the needs of the people. Transportation between the cities grew to allow easy passage for the people. As a result, fewer people ventured out into the wildlands outside the kingdoms. As even greater changes happened outside the walls of the great cities, as the former monstrous races began to grow and undergo their own rebirth.

Many of the races that had been for so long-chained and enslaved by their evil masters and gods grew free from their hold as the generations grew more and more distant from their dark origins. They had now created stability for their people, creating their own societies free of the evil that had dominated their lives. They were now following in the footsteps in the humanoid races that had come before them. Claiming the wildlands as their own domain to be built and transformed as they saw fit.

With all these changes the world has grown into a great age of peace and prosperity unlike anyone had seen before, but sadly it will not last forever. As a new threat has begun to emerge from the shadows. But not from the former foes faced so long ago or from any of the dark corners of the world that remained. But instead from beyond the stars themselves. As a new evil greater than any seen before approaches to bring down an iron fist, to conquer this world like so many before it. Greater than any champion, king or hero, a Lord.

A Lord of Destruction

This was the original hook for the campaign setting much of the background and ideas that the campaign would explore in the future. With this image of an evolving world with increasing technology, as both magic and science are being merged together.

Campaign Start:

Now the campaign starts, all the layer characters start as simple level 0 characters, to represent they they are just normal average people. The players are riding on a train, traveling between two of the major cities of the world. On the last night of the journey, the train is abducted by an alien ship, though the players are unaware of this. The players awaken on the ship with no weapons or equipment inside this forcefield holding cells. One by one the prisoners are taken from the cells and have these nodes implanted into the back of their spines. When the last prisoner is tagged they are placed back into their cells until the next operation can begin.

But before that can happen, they are rescued by a mysterious figure whos works for one of the campaign settings factions. After rescuing them he tells them they have been implanted with devices designed to mind control them and the only way for them to be removed without killing them was to meet with his leaders. The figure gives them all weapons and equipment to help them survive, as well as giving them strange gems. When these gems are broken in the hands of the players they grant incredible powers to the characters wiving them three levels in their chosen class. Though they are warned attempting to use multiple gems would have disastrous results. Then the figure helps the players escape the ship and sends them back down to the planets surface, unable to join them because the ship needs to be sabotaged.

When landing on the planet's surface, there is a total of six locations they could land. Including one of the major cities, a massive territory of swamps, a deserted island with ancient ruins, a valley with a massive canyon that is spewing out the undead, the middle of an enchanted forest and a frozen wasteland. This would determine the first arc of the campaign. Before the players are sent down to the surface, the stranger gives each group of prisoners a magic scroll that shows a map of where the players need to go to meet with him and his leaders.

This is the general overview of the campaign started. I plan on reworking some of these elements and ideas once I start creating the campaign book, but was curious what other people might think of it. Please feel free to ask any questions or if you're interested in any additional details about the setting, as well as your thoughts about the setting.

#DND #D&D #Dungeons and Dragons #dungeonsanddragons #5e #campaign #lord of destruction #writing

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canadiankazz · 5 years

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The Third Time - An L.A. by Night fanfic

Jasper is in serious trouble after being hit by a vehicle during a fight with another Kindred. He is going to need Annabelle's help (and blood) to heal.

SPOILERS for the end of Campaign 1, and a little bit for the one-shots. This has gone off canon, so consider this an AU. It's worth reading Part 1 (The First Time) and Part 2 (The Second Time) before you read this. It was written before the premiere of Season 2. (Believe it or not!) This fic is intended for a mature audience and does contain off-screen self-harm and slightly graphic details of someone having been run over by a vehicle.

When coming up with ideas for this fic, my muse @cravatfiend and I were amazed that we didn't consider hurt/comfort first. Writing this one was a challenge, but one I ultimately enjoyed. I wanted this part to focus more on Jasper's side of things. He's not the easiest character to write for due to his enigmatic nature, and yet I've been told I do it well.

I lay no claim to owning any of the characters involved. As always, special thanks to @cravatfiend for the support and encouragement during the draft writing process. Neck biting was what they requested, and so neck biting is what we've got!

I am shocked and amazed at how close we came to something very much like this fic happening at the end of Episode 2 of Season 2. I was not expecting that at all! Thank you to everyone who has sent me positive feedback on parts 1 and 2. I am happy to be contributing to this small, but hungry fandom.

Also posted to my Ao3.

First posted Jan. 25, 2019.

The Entire ‘Feeds From’ Master List Can be Found Here

The Third Time

Jasper lay on the road, face-down. His whole existence was nothing but pain. His chest and back were completely crushed. If he needed to breathe, he wouldn’t have been able to due to his lungs being shredded by broken ribs. He couldn't feel his feet or legs. That wasn't good. He tested his hands and arms. His left one worked fine. His right wouldn’t respond. He slowly turned his head. He didn't hear or feel anything wrong with his neck. His right arm was a total mess, twisted and broken. He could see exposed bone. Not good.

Jasper looked back to where he had last seen his foe. He caught the sight of the other Nosferatu's body, what was left of it. Where the truck had run over Jasper's torso, it had directly hit the other vampire in the head. The force had been enough to crush it flat, effectively wrenching it from his body. The oh-so tempting smell of Vitae was thick in the air. Jasper watched as the remains other Nosferatu crumbled into ash and a faint breeze began to blow it away. Jasper groaned. He could have used him.

He had other priorities now. Number one was to get off the road. Jasper tried to shift his body but couldn't. He gritted his teeth against a scream of pain that tried to force its way out of his throat. He glanced up and down the road. He couldn't see any other headlights. The red tail lights of the truck that had hit them were already gone.

“Asshole didn't even stop,” he thought in a delirium of pain. “Hit and run.” It was good that the driver hadn’t stopped though. It meant that Jasper didn't have to do anything to him.

Jasper closed his eyes and concentrated. He had precious little Vitae to spare, but he had to heal, and quickly. He wouldn’t survive being run over again. His head swam. He was dangerously close to falling into Torpor. If he did, and if Victor or Nelli didn't find him in time, he was surely doomed.

He'd never see Chloe again.

He'd never see Annabelle again.

His fangs gritted. A groan that turned into a growl escaped through them as he forced his broken body to heal. His spine crunched, shattered bones clicking back into place, torn muscles and nerves knitting themselves back together. With his good arm, he reached and gripped the tarmac and pulled himself forward. It was slow and agonising. He reached again and felt the dry, scraggly grass at the edge of the road. He pulled himself towards it. His feet and legs tingled as feeling returned to them. They hurt, like a thousand needles in his flesh. He reached and pulled again and with a scream of pain and a burst of desperate effort, rolled himself off the road and down into the grassy ditch on the edge of it.

He rolled once, twice, and settled on his back. His broken arm was flopped across his chest. He lay there, still for a moment, trying to collect himself mentally. He hoped he was out of sight of the road. He turned his head and saw the glint of his knife that he had lost in the fight. It had been thrown clear. He grabbed it with his good arm and painfully, awkwardly, slipped it back into its hiding spot on his person.

He re-took stock of his condition. His spine was mostly healed. His back ached, but he could move his feet again, and he hoped that when he tried to walk, he would be able to. His legs were okay, only some road rash. His chest had been caved in under the vehicle’s tires. Almost every rib was still broken. He only had one good arm. His clothes were ripped and covered in Vitae and road dirt.

“Ow…” he whispered to himself. This was bad, but he knew he was probably also the luckiest Nosferatu in L.A. right now. That very easily could have been him with his head under the tires, or another truck could have come right after that first one and hit him again like roadkill. If only that other bastard had let him Soaring Leap away, but no, Jasper had been held down in some stupid murder/suicide thing. Well, joke’s on that other Nos, whatever the hell his name was. He was dust and Jasper was still in one piece… kind of.

Jasper focused and tried to repair his right arm. At the very least, he wanted to close that compound fracture. He made some slow, agonising progress. His wounds began to close, at least on the outside. The sound of it was disgusting. The internal damage across his body was deep, and it would take more Vitae for him to heal it all than he had in him.

Jasper didn't know how long he lay there. He could hear crickets and other night creatures around him. He reached the limit of his healing and his Beast rumbled with hunger. His ribs were still broken, though the bloody dent in his chest wasn't as extreme as it had been. His eyes stared up at the night sky. Dawn was oncoming. He had to move.

Jasper rolled over again and used his left arm to push himself up to his feet. He still had no strength in his right. He could move his hand and fingers, that was good, but the muscles inside the arm itself were still ruined. He got to his feet and tried to take a step. He stumbled, but didn't fall. Step by agonising step, keeping as out of sight as he could without using Vitae to make himself invisible, he began his slow march home.

Victor called shortly before he reached the L.A. River. His phone, by a miracle, was scratched, but otherwise undamaged. Jasper leaned against the sloping concrete wall at the edge of the river and answered the call. Every effort now went into keeping himself upright and keeping his voice steady.

“Hello?”

“Jasper? Where are you, man, are you okay?” Victor sounded worried.

“I'm okay,” Jasper lied. “I got hit by a car, but I'm okay. I'm heading home.”

“You got hit by a car?! What? Jasper-”

“I'm fine, really,” Jasper cut off. He chuckled and instantly regretted it as his ribs and internal organs screamed. “You should see the other guy.”

“Yeah, you were fighting that other Nos... what happened?”

“He pushed me onto the road. We were fighting, and... a car hit us. His head got destroyed. He's dust.” That much was true, if down played. It hadn't been a car that hit them, it had been an eighteen wheeler. “It was a hit and run. Driver never stopped. I don’t think they even saw us.”

“Oh, well... you sure you're okay?” Victor asked.

“Yeah, I'm good. I've had worse,” Jasper lied again.

“Are you going back to the college? I can send a car for you.”

“No, I'm... I'm almost home.” He could see his front door from where he was. “I'm good. I... I'll live.”

Victor sounded doubtful. “Okay, man, if you're sure.”

“Yeah, I'm sure,” Jasper said with a false smile.

“Okay,” Victor relented.

“Are you and Nelli okay?”

“Yeah, we're both fine. She broke a nail, though.” Victor laughed over the line. Jasper chuckled again and coughed. He could taste his own Vitae in his mouth. Not good. “We're going to look into who sent them,” Victor continued. “It could be the last bits of Blaine's gang, but that seems unlikely. It might have been the Ivory Tower.”

Jasper almost didn't care. “Okay, well... do me a favour, Victor?”

“Sure, man.”

“My battery's dying... can you call Annabelle for me?”

Annabelle was currently in Santa Monica. Jasper could feel her there. Though it was only a short drive away, it felt like it was on the other side of the world.

“Yeah, okay. Why?” Victor sounded a little suspicious now.

“She'll want to know about the attack. She'll be pissed if she has to find out about it second hand.”

That was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. There was barely a power on this earth that would have made Jasper willingly tell Victor the entire truth.

“That's fair enough. No problem,” Victor promised.

“Okay. I'm going to go.”

“Good bye.”

“'Bye.”

Jasper ended the call and almost dropped his phone. He put it away and pushed himself off the wall with a grimace. Stopping to take that call had killed any momentum he had, but at least it would keep the Baron of the Valley from sniffing around for a while. Also, it meant Annabelle would be told, which meant that she would probably try to see him.

Probably. He didn't want to hope too hard that she would seek him out right away. Hope wasn't a thing he indulged himself in any more. He and Annabelle had gotten extremely close in recent weeks with a degree of intimacy that he also hadn't allowed himself in a long time. Hers was the first blood he had tasted who had ever willingly offered it to him, with no mind tricks or false pretences. That made her a different kind of special than what she already was.

The sky in the far east was starting to grey and the birds in Griffith Park were singing a loud morning chorus by the time Jasper got to his door. Every step had been painful, but the fear of the sun kept him going. He pulled the hatch open with his left arm and slipped inside. He threw all his weight into closing it again, which made him grit his fangs in agony. He turned and staggered down his dark passage ways, but his strength failed him before he got down to his proper living and working area. He staggered, tried to catch himself with his right arm and fell on his face. He lay there, moaning and growling softly for a few seconds, then passed out.

He could hear someone calling his name. He could hear someone pounding on a metal door. Everything hurt. His back ached, his chest felt like was in a vice and his right arm felt like it had been ripped apart, then sewn back together by a bear. A blind bear with no medical degree.

“Jasper? Jasper? Are you there?”

It took him a moment to remember where he was and what had happened to him. He opened his eyes and his Beast started to writhe and rage in hunger. Injuries or no injuries, it wanted to rip apart anything and everything with blood inside it and fuck the consequences. He turned his head to look behind him, back towards where the sounds were coming from.

“Jasper?” There was more loud pounding on his front door.

It was Annabelle. Jasper tried to push himself to his feet. He managed it with a snarl and a grimace as he heard the hatch open.

“Jasper?” Annabelle's worried voice echoed down the tunnel towards him. “I'm sorry, I don't mean to break in... are you here?”

He found himself not minding her intrusion as much as he felt that he should have.

“I'm here,” he called to her. He winced. He sounded like he was in pain. That kind of thing can sometimes only be hidden for so long.

He heard her close the hatch and hurry towards him. She was using the flashlight on her phone to guide her. “Jasper?”

“Be careful,” he warned her as she came close. “I'm... very hungry.” He smiled without humour, his fangs very much on show.

She paused when she saw him in the dim light and put a hand to her mouth in shock. His hoodie was torn up and ruined. She could smell his Vitae. He was scraped and cut. He was holding his right arm stiffly up to his chest.

“You look terrible!”

“Oh, well...” He looked away from her, pretending to be gravely insulted.

“No, no, I mean... what happened to you? Victor said you'd been hit by a car, but...” She sounded very upset, but she hadn't come closer to him yet. She had taken his warning seriously.

“I may not have told Victor the whole truth,” Jasper said, looking at her again. “It wasn't a car. It was a semi truck.”

Annabelle gasped. She took a step towards him. He wanted to stop her, but he didn't. Part of him, and he was surprised to admit it wasn't just the hungry part of him, had missed her terribly.

“Oh, my God... Jasper...” She could see more of his injuries as she came closer, including how his chest had a frightening dent to it.

“I'm... I'll be okay,” he tried to assure her. His voice was rough. “I just need to heal some more, and I'll be fine. It looked worse before...”

Annabelle shook her head. “Come on... let's get you inside.” She put an arm around him, trying to help support him as gently as she could. He didn't try to resist. He found himself leaning rather heavily on her, but she supported him without issue.

Inside the sanctum itself, Annabelle steered them towards the bedroom. Jasper was a little confused, but didn't stop her. He was starting to snarl to himself under his breath, as his Beast tried to claw its way forwards. His new favourite food source was right there. Her hair smelled like the ocean. She was full of the precious Vitae that his Beast tried to claim was rightfully his for the taking.

“Jasper?” Annabelle asked, very worried.

“I'm okay,” he lied. “Just trying to keep control.” He realised he was shaking just a little bit. It hurt.

Annabelle sat him on his bed. He found himself laying back onto it with a groan. She bit her lip.

“You know... X told me you were in trouble. Right before Victor called me, I was talking with X and he said that you needed my help.”

Jasper snickered, and his laughter had a growl in it. “Good old X.”

“Will you let me help you?” she asked.

He knew she was talking about feeding him again, and although it was all he wanted in the world at that point, he still felt the need to try to warn her away. He shook his head. “It's too dangerous. I am very badly hurt and almost starving. The chances of me killing you are very, very high.”

“But the chances of you hurting or killing someone else if I don't are also very high,” she retorted.

“That is true,” he admitted.

She sighed for a moment, thinking. A large part of her wanted him to feed from her again, not just because it would keep other people safe from his hunger and not just because it would help her friend. When he bit her, she felt a dizzying array of sensations that she was ashamed to admit no mortal had ever given her. It wasn't better than sex, but it was on a very similar level. It was probably the next best thing, really. It was something she wanted to explore further with Jasper, if he wanted to as well.

“Can you take the hoodie off?”

His eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“I want to see how bad it is.”

“No, you don't,” he shook his head. “You really, really don't.”

“Your hoodie is ruined anyways,” she tried to argue. “It's all bloody and torn.”

“I don't mind that.”

“Jasper...” she pleaded.

“No.” He couldn’t understand why she wanted to see him shirtless. This wasn't the first time she had asked.

She sighed. “Okay, fine. Um... from what I've seen from the others, healing wounds takes a lot of blood, right?”

“Right,” Jasper confirmed.

Annabelle sat on the bed by Jasper's side. He almost wished she wouldn't. His Beast was getting difficult to control.

“And so if you feed from me, you run the risk of still starving even if you heal everything, right?”

“Right.”

“Could I lock you up, maybe? Just until you're under control?”

He laughed at her hypocrisy. It hurt to laugh, but he couldn’t help it. “You want to lock me up? You were the one who hated that I put someone in a cage in the first place! Besides, it would be easy for me to break out of there.”

Annabelle nodded, feeling foolish for suggesting it. “You're right. I'm an idiot.'

“No, you're not. It's a good idea, it just wouldn’t work.”

She thought the issue over a little more, and got another idea. “Do you have your knife?”

He looked at her suspiciously. “Yes.”

“Can I borrow it? Just for like, a minute.”

“Why?”

“I have another idea. Biting me is too dangerous, but you still need Vitae. What if I gave it to you in another way?”

“You want to cut yourself?”

Admitting that out loud wasn't something she was entirely comfortable with, but those were the circumstances she found herself in. “Yeah.”

He had to admit that might work. It would give Annabelle more control, and a weapon in case his Beast did frenzy again. He nodded reluctantly and shifted painfully on the bed to pull his blade out from its hiding place. It was long and sharp. It had been used many times during his Kindred existence, but it had been well maintained. He offered it to her, handle first.

Annabelle took it and gave him a little smile. “Thanks. I'll be right back!” And she disappeared out his bedroom door before he could stop her.

Jasper half sat, half lay on the bed, blinking and frowning in confusion. He could hear her moving about in another room, shifting things around. He heard a rattle of many small metal objects being carefully poured out. He snarled. He didn't like anyone going through his things, not even Annabelle. He sat up further, growling at the pain in his chest and back.

“Annabelle!” he called.

“Coming, just a second!”

He determined that she was in his workshop/cage room. His senses were not as supernaturally keen as some Kindred's, but he could definitely smell Annabelle's Vitae when it hit the air. His eyes went wide. His Beast wanted him to leap off the bed and pounce on her. He found himself gripping the bed frame with both hands to stop himself from doing that. It made his bad arm feel like it was full of angry fire ants.

Annabelle returned to the bedroom shortly later. She was carefully carrying a small plastic container in her hands. The container was full of her blood. There was also a thin streak of blood along the blade. Annabelle had no visible wounds. He guessed that she had cut her palm, bled into the container, then healed herself. Jasper recognised the container as one he had kept loose screws and nails in. She had emptied it, re-filled it with blood, and was now carrying it to him like he was sick in bed and being offered chicken soup. He smiled wildly and sharply, still snarling to himself.

Annabelle carefully passed him the plastic container, wary not to spill any of it. “Here... careful,” she said maternally.

He imminently poured the contents down his throat. He could taste her in it, but it lacked the satisfying feeling of sinking his fangs into flesh. Still, it was nourishment, and though his Beast grumbled, it too had to admit that Vitae was Vitae no matter the shape of its container and it was temporarily locked back in its prison again.

Annabelle watched Jasper as he greedily drank from the container, like a man lost on a raft at sea who had managed to fill a bowl with fresh rain water. He was extremely careful not to spill any of it. She still held the knife. She was proud of herself for coming up with this idea, but it still felt a little like they were taking a step backwards. This would do for now, but it lacked the intimacy she thought she wanted.

When the majority of the contents were gone, Jasper started to clean out the interior of the plastic container with his tongue, licking up all the bloody residue left behind. It looked a little gross, but Annabelle found herself faintly impressed with how long and dexterous Jasper's tongue seemed to be. “This was a good idea,” he said between licks.

“Thanks. I'm glad it worked.” She waited for him to finish, then passed him his knife back. He licked Vitae off the blade, careful not to cut himself on it. Annabelle thought her heart would skip a beat, if it were beating.

Jasper polished the blade on a sheet and put it away. He handed her the clean container. “Thank you. Please... put this back where it was?”

“Yeah, no problem.” She didn't imminently leave the room though. She had another idea. Jasper would need more Vitae, and she wanted to spend time with him, but she needed to restock her internal supply too. “Would it be okay if I left for a few hours and came back later? I'll feed and then come back and... we can do this again, but properly.” If she could blush right now, she would be crimson.

Jasper was quiet and still for a moment. He felt conflicted. Yes, he wanted Annabelle to do this thing she was suggesting. He wanted it badly. It was a little more than just wanting her blood though. He liked her company and she seemed to enjoy his. Since Tara left, his sanctum had been very tranquil. Normally, he liked that. There was a peace down here that was hard to find in Los Angeles. He enjoyed the quiet, but he had also enjoyed every minute he had spent with Annabelle here with him. That kind of positive reinforcement was difficult to deny.

On the other hand, he knew that it would mean going further and further down the metaphorical rabbit hole of this much closer, more intimate relationship he had with her, and he was frankly a little scared. He cared about Annabelle a lot, definitely more so now than he ever used to before, now that her Vitae was a part of him again. That meant that their bond could have the potential to be used against him, and that wasn't good. He wanted more and more of her each time. They were going to have to be very careful.

He could see that his silence was making Annabelle worried. He habitually ran his tongue over his fangs and Annabelle fidgeted in an interesting way. “Alright,” he said at last. “You'll come back later tonight?”

She nodded, a little eagerly. “Yeah.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. I'll be here.” He opened his mouth to say more, hesitated, then continued. “You can... let yourself in. I trust you.”

She looked surprised at that. She knew that was a big deal. “Oh! Um, sure. Thanks.”

“Don't make me regret that,” he warned her. “I'm not happy that our coterie knows exactly where I live, and if you tell anyone else about it, or, God forbid, take them here, I will hurt them and probably you as well.”

She nodded, looking a little worried again. “Jasper, I won't. You can trust me.”

He knew he could. Her blood in his told him so. He relented. “Okay.”

“Okay. I'll be back soon,” Annabelle promised. She left and he heard her put the screws and nails back into the container in his workshop and she saw herself out of his sanctum.

Jasper did several things while he waited to Annabelle to return. He let himself heal a little more, and managed to do so without rousing his Beast too much. His chest and back felt a lot better now. He could walk and move with little discomfort. His right arm still didn't feel right. It was stiff and had minimal strength. If he tried to stretch it, or lift anything heavy with it, his muscles screamed in protest. He wasn't worried. It would be healed completely after Annabelle came back. He changed his clothes. He didn't throw out the ruined hoodie. It could be salvaged in various ways. He checked to make sure his container of screws was back where it should be. He didn't trust Annabelle to put it back just so. He also charged his phone, and discovered several missed messages and calls from Annabelle. She had desperately tried to contact him for a few hours before banging on his door. He must have been unconscious in that tunnel for a long while past sunset. That was a little unnerving. He was very grateful that she had found him.

Annabelle returned a few hours later. She had a laptop bag with her. She too had changed her clothes, and was now wearing a basic black tank top under her red leather jacket. It was far too cold outside now for a mortal to get away with wearing that comfortably, but for Kindred the cold was less of an issue. She let herself into Jasper's haven, as she had been given permission to do so. Jasper heard her coming down the passage between his rooms and the outside world and greeted her at the door.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she smiled and assessed him. “You're looking better.”

“I'm feeling better, thank you. What's in the bag?”

“My computer. I thought... I don't know... we could watch some stuff, later.” Once again, if she could blush without using Vitae to do so, she would have.

Jasper smirked. “I don't have great internet down here.”

“I have some things saved on the hard drive,” Annabelle mumbled.

“Okay. If we have time, we might watch some things.”

A small moment of awkwardness settled in. Annabelle had an idea now of how she wanted things to go this time. She had been doing a lot of thinking about this. She barrelled onwards, gaining more confidence as she spoke.

“I'd like to do it in the bedroom this time,” she said, “if that's alright with you.”

Jasper arched an eyebrow at her and tilted his head. “Sure, I guess.” He could tell she was planning something, and wondered where she was going with this. He was willing to follow her though.

“After you, then,” she gestured towards the bedroom. “It's your house, after all.”

“Yes, it is.” Amused and intrigued, Jasper slunk back into his bedroom. His right arm was still held stiffly by his side.

Annabelle followed him and closed the door behind them. She put her laptop bag on the floor by the wall. “I have something I want to show you,” Annabelle announced. She dug out a baggie with several small plastic things inside. She showed them to Jasper. They were small plastic battery operated tea light candles. She flicked the switch on the bottom of one and showed him the fake flame. She beamed at him, her face illuminated with the orange light from the 'candle.' “Check it out! Safe candles for us! We don't have to worry about fire with these.”

Jasper chuckled, which didn't hurt as much as it used to. He took the little plastic candle from Annabelle and turned it over, examining it. He poked the little fake flickering fire with his long, pale finger. He bore his fangs as he smiled, and a little coil of anticipation bloomed in Annabelle's core. “Very clever,” he said in admiration.

Jasper had no furniture in this room, save for his bed, so Annabelle set about turning on the tea lights and placing them evenly on the floor around the room. She was satisfied with the light and atmosphere they created. It was subtly romantic.

“Why the candles, though?” Jasper asked.

“I want to... set a mood.” She took off her red jacket and left it with her bag. Jasper watched her closely. He was working out what her plan was. She gestured to the bed and they sat on it together.

“Alright, so...” Annabelle took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “I'm ready for you to feed again, if you'd like to. I went and fed earlier, so I'm good to go.”

Jasper nodded. He smiled slowly.

“But this time, we can do things a little differently... if you're okay with that,” Annabelle continued.

“How so?”

“I'm going to let you bite my neck.”

Jasper froze, staring at her. “Really?”

“Yes.” Annabelle tried not to fidget. “I've put a lot of thought into this, and yes. You can do that if you want, or we can stick to what we did before.” She lifted up her wrist that he had fed from in the past.

Jasper nodded slowly. What she was doing was a gift, a favour to him, after all, and if this was how she wanted to do it, then he approved. “I'm okay with... trying something different,” he said. He smiled with fangs again.

“Great! Okay. Um... here.” Annabelle considered for another moment, then turned around on the bed so she was sitting with her back to him. She moved her tank top and bra strap down her arm on her right side to expose as much of her neck and shoulder as she could without taking her top off all together. The gold chain from the heart locket given to her by Elleanore gleamed against her skin. Jasper thought that, from what he could see of her black bra strap and the faint impression of lace he could make out through the fabric of her top, that the bra Annabelle was wearing was a rather fancy one. He was no expert, of course, but he wasn't completely ignorant either. 'The Date Night set' would have been how Chloe would have described it, long ago. He wondered why Annabelle would have felt the need to wear something like that. He supposed she had started of thinking of these occasions of theirs as 'dates.'

Annabelle tilted her head and exposed her neck to him. Her skin was smooth and inviting. Her hair was well out of the way, she having chosen her undercut side for him to bite. She glanced back at Jasper, a little nervous, but her mind was set.

“Ready when you are,” she said softly.

Jasper quietly moved a little closer until his front was almost pressed against her back. His eyes were on her neck and shoulder. Her Vitae was there, so close he could almost smell it. He put his left hand gently on her back and left side, as a brace. Annabelle felt no breath on her skin. She knew there wouldn't be, but it was still a little unsettling. She could hear Jasper open his mouth in her right ear. She closed her eyes, anticipating the bite.

Jasper bit down into Annabelle's skin, right where the curve of her neck met her shoulder. She gasped and her eyes flashed open. She could see their shadows on the wall in the artificial candle light. She could feel Jasper's lips close around the wound, keeping any Vitae from escaping and dripping down her back. The pain was more acute and a little more fierce. The pleasure, when it hit, made Annabelle tremble. It seemed somehow better, more intense then when he had bitten her wrist. Her eyelids fluttered closed again as the fog of ecstasy rolled over her. She relaxed back into Jasper's body, leaning against him. A soft moan escaped her lips.

For Jasper, this was heaven. Her Vitae was sweet and strong. He could taste the Brujah strength and Annabelle's arousal. The fact that he was the cause of that arousal was not lost on him. Her gasps and moans were the only sounds in the room. Strength returned to Jasper's right arm and he brought it up to her shoulder. He gripped her tight as he drained her, gently but forcibly encouraging her blood to flow into him. His Beast clawed at its cage, encouraging him to keep going, more and more. Her strength could be his forever if he didn't stop. She probably wouldn't even stop him, wouldn't want to stop him, his Beast whispered.

He didn't listen to it. He was loving this, yes, but the last thing he wanted to do was to commit Diablerie against Annabelle. He was almost fully supporting her weight now. He glanced at her face and saw her eyes were closed and her mouth was open. He could see her fangs.

Experience told him he needed to stop now, least he take too much and drive her into her own hunger Frenzy. He pulled back with a snarl and ran his tongue over her skin, first catching an escaping crimson drip that was running down her back, then closing the wound left by his fangs. He could feel Annabelle shiver. He let her continue to lean limply back against him with her head resting against his shoulder. She exhaled a long, quiet moan. He smirked and kept his arms wrapped around her, holding her tenderly. He licked his lips and fangs, making sure his mouth was clean of Vitae.

After a few moments, Annabelle opened her eyes and turned her head a little to look at his face. Up close, his skin was foul, grey and dead. The black veins stood out starkly. She looked past that, into his eyes, and smiled the dopey smile of the recently pleasured. He smirked back at her.

“Good?” he asked softly.

“Good,” Annabelle nodded. She sounded breathy. “Really good. You?”

“I am perfectly good,” he smiled. She could see his fangs up close. God, they were scary. She closed her eyes and kept them closed while she recovered.

After several minutes, Annabelle sat up, lifting her weight off Jasper slowly. He steadied her with his hands until he was sure she wouldn’t fall over. She was obviously dizzy from the experience. She turned slowly back around to face him. They were quiet for a few moments, but it wasn't awkward this time. They just sat close to each other. Jasper knew, in this moment, that whatever bond he was developing with Annabelle was deeper now. He felt like he would want to do whatever she asked, if she asked him right this moment. He was glad he trusted her not to abuse this. Any of the others would have. She really was one of the few non-horrible Kindred he had ever known.

“Would you like to sleep over?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

She nodded once. “Yes, please,” she answered in a very similar tone to his.

He smiled and she smiled back.

They ended up sharing the bed, snuggled up against each other. Annabelle had her head against Jasper's shoulder and Jasper had an arm around her. They watched Bram Stoker's Dracula on Annabelle's laptop and debated whether or not Keanu Reeves really was immortal. Jasper pointed out that if he was, he should have developed a better English accent by now. Annabelle couldn’t come up with a sound argument against that.

#l.a. by night #la by night #vampire the masquerade #fanfic #fanfiction #jasper/annabelle #annabelle/jasper #jasper #annabelle #times jasper fed from annabelle

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ezrah-kiam · 4 years

Text

By Fire Reborn

The soldier limped from the battle field a wreck of a man. He slung his armor from his shoulders into the steaming river and watched as the molten embers that clung to it sizzle in dying protest. He was done, they had fought for nothing, died for nothing, and now the beast burned friend and foe alike. Another ear-piercing roar filled the burning valley, and he felt the distant rumbles of more explosions shake he earth beneath his feet. He collapsed to the ground and looked into the red water of the river. The face looked familiar, but changed. He brushed his black hair from his eyes and saw the gash across the image’s cheek. He brushed his own and felt the burning pain again. He ripped a piece of his undershirt and tied it across his face. “This is the face I get to wear now”.

He stumbled along the shallow ravine and found his commander, smoldering hole yawning where his stomach used to be. Was there no one left? He checked the other husks lying around, some he knew, some he didn’t, and some scorched beyond any man’s ability to discern. Many Garleans shared the same fate, side by side. He climbed up the rising bank and felt his heart leap with terror. A magitek walker limped slowly a few yalms away. Without his armor he was defenseless on the field of carnage. He threw himself flat against the ashen bank and watched as the machine awkwardly took a step, then turn. Half of its front plating was missing, its edges marked with red hot slag. It shook, then it fell. The soldier turned from the wreck. There was nothing left for anyone here. He saw what ambition wrought and wanted no part of it. He just wanted to go home.

Far above, the sky flashed again, different from before, but no less blinding. Terrified of another barrage of ethereal flame, the soldier fell close to the ground and skittered back to the remains of the walker. As he ducked in the hulk’s shadow, trying feebly to cover his head with his arms, he felt an arm grab at his shirt. “You!” cried the voice, as desperate and terror-filled as his own, but tempered with something else, “You filthy savage!” The pilot of the walker, desperately trying to free himself from the wreckage, had taken the soldier by the shirt and was now reaching with is other hand for his neck. “One dragon at Silvertear, now another here! What devils do you worship?”

The soldier kicked at the mechanical husk, trying desperately to free himself from the pilot’s desperate grasp, “I’m not…I’m…it wasn’t…” Protests, unable to escape the soldier’s constricted throat, made their way to his boot as his kicks knocked lose a smoldering plate from the machine, sending it sliding downward until it met the resistance provided by the desperate pilot. Sickening was the sound made when metal met flesh, and even more so was the sound emitted by the poor soul as his panic gave way to oblivion. Collapsing back to the ground, panting for breath, the soldier crawled away from the scene, “It wasn’t us…it was you.” His desperation turning into wrath as the words escaped his lungs.

Another quake shook the ground, and a wave of heated wind blew ash and cinder once more high into the air, and the soldier struggled to keep his bearings. Given direction by the wind, he stumbled south until he came upon the corpse of several chocobos, apparently gathered together for safety they could not find. Searching, the soldier found a flag attached to the barding of one of the beasts; blue with gold trim and decorated with scales. Wrapping himself in the think cloth, he ducked under an outcropping of rock and slumped down against the back wall. “Hell of a place to die,” he thought, surrounded by fire and wrapped in the colors of his country. He coughed, struggling to breath in the smoke-filled valley. Unconsciousness came quietly to the soldier as the fields of Carteneau burned.

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Distant echoes stirred in the mind of the soldier. Cries in the distance and mumbles close by, as the fog of unconsciousness slowly lifted. “Over here! I’ve found another!” cried a voice, young and small. “Is it them?” responded another, this one deeper. “No,” responded the first, “but it’s one of ours.” A hand pressed itself against the soldier’s chest, and light pierced the closed eyes of the soldier. He felt his chest fill with heat, and his breath came with a sudden vengeance. Coughing racked his frame, and when he opened his eyes, he found the Ul’dan barding he had covered himself with speckled with his own blood. Struggling to focus, his eyes rose to meet those of a young man in red a large, red overcoat shadowed by another. He nodded at the soldier, “Calm yourself, you’ll be fine. Lucky you managed to wedge yourself under here, luckier still we managed to find you.”

“Can he stand?” asked the man behind. He was large, blue skinned, and wore a red overcoat matching that of his companion. The soldier recognized them, enlisted men of the Maelstrom. Panic took hold, and the soldier began kicking himself backwards against the back of the outcrop, managing to fill the face of the younger Hyur whom had helped him with dust.

“Calm calm!” he cried, “You’re safe. We’ll get you back to the Flame’s camp, and back to your regiment.” The man placed his hand once more on the soldier’s shoulder, and offered him a dusty smile, “For better or worse, the battle’s over, you’ll be home in no time.” Home? Understanding washed over the soldier slowly; he looked down once again at the barding covering his shaking frame, tracing his eyes along the stitched words embroidered under the seal: By Fire Reborn, and back into the eyes of the two whom had come upon him. He nodded, and offered what he could manage of a smile, “Thank you.”

He walked for what felt like hours away from the burning fields, always keeping his baring South. The red-clad soldiers walked at his side, stopping every so often to check for more survivors. Many were not as fortunate as the soldier, but it seemed odd that the Roegadyn did not find more comfort with each life his healing friend was able to pull back from the brink. He seemed to be on another mission, examining each survivor, but not for enemies it would seem, but for someone in particular.

The small company at length managed to come across a refugee camp along the road; soldiers and civilians alike hobbled together thanking their Gods for preserving their lives. The hyur healer escorted the more seriously wounded too the makeshift triage tent at the center of the camp, while the Roegadyn made his way to speak with a tall female dressed in black. “No sign of them,” he reported in a voice just on the edge of hearing for the soldier. “Where in the seven hells could they be?” demanded the woman, turning her alabaster face northward, back over the battlefield, “Thank you, lieutenant, when you’re partner returns, take up the search again. Pray we can find any of the Company, or the Circle.” The male nodded, offered his solute, and turned from the woman now lost in her thoughts.

Pain took the soldier’s attention away from the scene as his face began to burn once more. He placed a hand over his makeshift bandage and pulled it back red. Making his way to the medical tent, the soldier could not help but shake at the sight before him. Men and women both, most looking even younger than he, filled the cots that lined the area. Meanwhile, chirurgeons worked beyond the point of exhaustion mending what they could of the broken others hand found strewn over Carteneau. Feeling a tug at his leggings, the soldier looked down into the face of a small Lalafell wearing a white robe. “Walking? Good sign, take a seat and let’s see what needs seeing to eh?” The soldier nodded and sat in a chair nearby as the small medic pulled a step-up and mounted it, placing himself at eye-level, “Filthy bandage, what is this, your shirt?” The soldier could only nod, “We told the Companies to provide each enlisted man with a medical kit, and this one comes in with a shirt-bandage.”

“I’m not with the enlisted,” the soldier responded, “just a soldier.” He winced as the fabric was pulled free of his skin; old dried blood mixed with new made the bandage stick to his face and protest at its removal.

“That’s what you get then, sell-sword, when you cut corners and skimp on supplies.” The high tenor of the lecturer faded into the background as the Lalafell began to apply a cool poultice to the man’s face. “Hold that while I see where else you’re broken.” Concentrating, the small healer took hold of a crystal and placed it against the chest of the soldier, and a glow emanated from deep within it. “Fractured ribs, on the mend from what I can tell, and a lung that had collapsed. Seems Doctor Liddel set most of you on the mend. In a few days have someone take another look and make sure everything’s mended.” With a nod, the Lalafell tucked the crystal back into his pocket and hopped off the stool. He pulled a bag from under the cot and handed it to the man, “Here’s a change of clothes. Toss those rags in the bin on the way out.” The soldier pulled the fresh shirt over his head as the Lalafell descended his booster and gathered himself, “Once your changed report to the quartermaster’s station to the south, she’ll set you up with quarters for now.”

The soldier nodded, “Thank you.”

The chirurgeon turned to the man, “Don’t thank me, son, thank the Twelve,” he said before disappearing past the white curtain.

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“Looking good, soldier” said the Lalafell. He had returned to the medical tent the next day and he was amazed himself at the rate of his recovery.

“Tell me, who was that who found and healed me?” he asked as the Lalafell once more produced the crystal and began assessing his inner condition.

“That would be Doctor Liddel, one of the best chirurgeons and healers who works directly for the Admiral,” replied the diminutive physician, “Fortunate indeed you were to be found by him, it looks like his works done you some good. Ribs seem whole, and your lung seems to be no worse for wear. That burn on your face, however…”

The soldier nodded, “I understand,” He smiled and placed his hand on the burned scar that marked his left cheek, “Thank you for your help.”

The healer nodded and descended his step-up once more, “Glad there were some I could help, young man. The Thaumaturges have been nearly just as busy as I tending to the dead.”

The soldier was well aware of the grim work tasked to the tenders of the dead over the past few days. He had seen the wagons headed for the fields, returning covered, and loaded beyond their capacity. The creaking of their wheels along the path rose above the din of the camp, and all fell silent to their procession.

“I need passage South, is there a caravan?” he asked the Lalafell as he pulled a linen shirt over his body.

“We’re sending a wagon south tonight to get supplies, though it won’t get you anywhere near Ul’dah if that’s where you’re headed. They might need a loader if your arms are strong enough.”

He smirked; it still hurt, “I can manage.”

“Then report to captain Farris, he’s getting ready to depart with the wagon.” The soldier thanked the small doctor for his kindness and made his way out of the tent still echoing with the moans of the injured. He crossed the campground to the wagon that was being prepared. The wagon leader, probably a commander just a day ago, looked up from his map as the soldier approached.

“I was told you’re heading south and could use some help,” the soldier stated, trying to present himself as able-bodied as he could manage.

“We do, but we’re not taking passengers.” The wagon master eyed him, “What’s your name? What company you with?”

“Ezrah Kiam, Ul’dah,” he replied.

“Don’t look like the regulars who marched for Ul’dah” the caravanner said. After all that happens some men would still turn away good help if it came from the wrong person. Worse yet, he may even continue the battle if he suspected deception.

“Mercenary paid with Ul’dan gold,” replied Ezrah, “Picked up my militia on the march north. Offered us gold and glory, I’m the only one left.” The stern face of the commander softened, he believed him.

“Well, lad, get on board. We’ll leave as soon as A’gota returns with any chocobos well enough to pull us.” It wasn’t long before a young miqot’e male returned with a pair of sorry looking specimens. After the chocobos were hitched to the cart the commander took the reins and led the wagon out of the camp.

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The caravan limped into the town in the early morning hours, the mist still hung in the air. Ezrah climbed down from the wagon slowly; the ache had settled into his body and his fatigue only made it worse. On the direction of the commander, he approached the store house office slowly, no lights shone in the window yet. He rapped his knuckles on the wooden door a few times and stood listening for any signs of life. Footsteps, heavy, slowly approached the door and began unbolting the locks that held it fast. “By the twelve do you know the hour?” a voice mumbled from the other side.

The hinges on the door creaked in protest as the door opened revealing to Ezrah the Roegadyn that now filled the doorway. His massive blue frame towered over Ezrah and his mass made him wonder how the Roegadyn got into the building in the first place. The voice that started as a low rumble deep in the pit of the massive man erupted as a deep and resentful “What?”

Ezrah pulled from his leather satchel a letter and a list of supplies being requested. “Sorry for the early start, but we’ve ridden through the night.”

The large blue man opened the letter with a deftness that surprised Ezrah and passed his eyes over the letter then looked to the raggedy soldier that stood before him. His eyes had softened by a small measure, “Poor bastard, we felt the earth shake from here. Thank the Twelve the fires didn’t fallow.” He then looked back to the list, “I’ve got most of this, but I don’t run a charity house. I can give you a discount, war and all, but have you got any gil to cover this?”

Ezrah felt the heat building up behind his eyes, “Gil? We have dying soldiers and civilians filling the camps who are not going to last the next few days without these.” War profiteering, eyeing the bottom line, Ezrah had hoped the common man of Ezorea would prove better than the monetarists of Ul’dah.

The Roegadyn shifted his weight; he did not like the tone. “I appreciate the need, but when those soldier boys rode north to war, they left these lands with next to nothing. Ixal and other wild things have been running unchecked for months with no help from any of you. If you want me to forget all that and give you what little I have for nothing, then you can take your cart and half dead chocobos right back to the battle field. Maybe they can eat the birds when they finally die.”

Ezrah felt his heart sink. He had to finish this business and keep on the road. “Fine, how about a trade.” He reached into his satchel and pulled from it a leather-bound box. He opened it to reveal an assortment of gems, metals, and other trinkets, “Souvenirs from those who are dying while we sit here and haggle. They took a collection just in case.”

“Hells…fine. Take what you need, but you let your commanders know Rhetibroda did his part.” The Roegadyn waited for Ezrah to agree before handing the letter to the little Lalafell workers that had gathered in the morning haze. He almost looked sorry.

“Generous of him,” Ezrah replied to the commander as he approached the wagon. He handed him the container of treasures and went to help the men load the wagon with the food, tents, beds, and other things the camps needed. He was even glad to see a large case of medicine being loaded onto the cart. The Roegadyn probably shed tears to let that walk out of his warehouse.

When they were done Ezrah shook each of their hands. He had told the commander on the long nights ride that he wasn’t making the return trip. “Twelve keep you, mister Kiam.”

“You as well,” replied Ezrah, before shouldering his pack with a grunt and turning towards the road.

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He kept south along the road until he came across many familiar paths he had explored in his youth. The weather was getting warmer, the vegetation thinner. He was a native of these lands, of Thanalan. Land of umbral fire, hot and dry for most of the year. Although Ul’dah was the crown jewel of the realm, Ezrah had grown up far from the bustling city. He knew his road would lead to Waymeet, a village set near the border of Thanalan that acted as a trading hub for merchants traveling from the Shroud or Carteneau down to Ul’dah.

Through the dust he made out the outline of the familiar stone wall. As Ezrah approached the settlement, he noticed the walls had not been enough for the small settlement. They were marked with arrows and scorch marks; large chunks had been battered and chunks of stone ripped free with hooks and chains. He cautiously approached the gate and banged on it, causing the gate to fall forward, slamming on the ground with a force that sent dirt flying into a cloud. The town looked eerily like the battle field he had limped away from a week ago. Buildings and bodies alike were stuck with arrows and burn marks. The old gate guard lay beside the doorway, slumped where he sat when the intruder took his neck in the night. At the center of the small village sat a man Ezrah did not recognize. The imposing figure his Highlander blood had cut now seemed small and weak as he sat on the stool in the center of the street, his white hair fallen over his face. Ezrah approached cautiously, noticing the back of the man raise slowly as he took a breath. Alive! He rushed to the man. He had taken a bolt through his back shoulder, the tip piercing the front of his white shirt, staining it red. He held a bottle of bourbon in one hand and a small, dust caked glass in the other. Ezrah knelt by the man so he could look him in the face, “Hey, hey, I’m here to help, what can I do?”

The man focused his eyes drowsily, either from the loss of blood or the booze he had been self-medicating with, “Who’er…who’er…you?”

Ezrah showed a thin smile, “Name’s Ezrah,.”

He chuckled, then winced in pain, “Ezrah huh? You look like hell… guess I don’t look much better. If you’re with the regulators, you’re a little late. Whole town’s gone to hell…”

“What happened?” What a waste, Ezrah thought. We failed to protect these people from the Raven and now everyone is paying the price. He had to do something.

“Happened fast, Amalj’aa, middle of the night. People tried to surrender, didn’t help. They killed…and burned, and worse…then took what they wanted. Said the falling of Dalamud signified the coming of the Flame, whatever that is, they needed sacrifices. Some made it out, headed to Ul’dah probably, but I don’t know.” The man tipped his bottle into the glass slowly then raised his body up to drink from the glass.

“All this is because of Dalamud?” Ezrah shook the man slightly, not out of malice, but desperation. The beastmen worshiped the primals like gods, of course the work of the White Raven would have been a sign. What other cults would take this as license to run savage. A tear fell into the dirt and clumped, “You said they took some?”

“Sorry Ezrah, they took a half dozen more and made east, that camp our militia boys were going to check out before you all got called up for the war. Hornets’ nest. Could see the flames light the horizon all night.”

Ezrah’s legs gave out. He sank down to the dirt, sitting in the shadow of the dying man. The sun beat down, the carrion birds danced around the village, enjoying the bounty. Ezrah shuffled in the dirt and stood. He looked at the injury the man had suffered, “How’s the pain?”

The man shook the bottle, almost empty. “As good as it’s going to get I suppose. Thal sure takes his time with the dieing, doesn’t he?”

“He’s been busy.” Ezrah broke the tip of the bolt off and yanked he rest back out the back of the large man. He screamed in agony and collapsed into the dirt, breathing heavily, “Let’s put him off for a while longer yet, alright?” Digging around in his bag, Ezrah found the vial of medicine he had been treating his face with. He bandaged the man and applied the salve, then helped him back into what was left of the inn.

That evening the injured man rested while Ezrah cleaned out the tavern’s main room. He knew each face that he laid out in side room was going to haunt his memories. Soldiers were one thing, they knew the risk. These people, common people, untrained and probably unable to mount any kind of fight, did not deserve their fate. He felt no better when they were covered with a sheet. He looked in on the large injured man asleep on a cot he had dragged from one of the rooms upstairs, he wasn’t going to be any help if the Amalj'aa came back. He wanted to go to the camp, take them in the night and leave their carcasses to bask in the burning sun as their spirits went to whatever hell their primal god kept for them. “Damn them” he muttered, then he settled in for the long night’s watch.

The injured man stirred and sat up on the cot. He rubbed his face with his hand. “Another day living…this one seems a little better than the past few.” He tried to stand but collapsed back onto the cot, “Not much better.”

Ezrah moved back from his position at the window and went to inspect the man’s shoulder. “Should heal up, don’t strain it too much. What’s your name?”

“Ronik, Ronik Argonar,” the man said as he winced with discomfort.

“Well, Ronik Argonar, we’ve got to see about getting us to safety, Ul’dah if we can.” Ronik nodded and pulled himself to standing. The old wood floor creaked under his feet. “Maybe they have some troops they can send this way, run out those bestmen, salvage what’s left of this town.”

Ronik walked slowly over to the bar, broken glass cracking under his boots with almost every step, “You know there isn’t anything left for this town, I’m sorry Ezrah, but the desert is going to swallow this place back up. But you’re right, we need to get to Ul’dah. Rest of the survivors should be there, Twelve be good to them.” He reached over the bar and pulled free the large sword that had hung there since Ezrah could remember. He blew the dust from the blade and gave it a practice swing. His bad arm gave him some trouble. “Guess I’ll manage. Got yourself some steel soldier boy?” Ezrah held up the blade he had dug out of some debris in the road way in the night. “It’ll do, let’s get on the road.”

Heavy foot steps ground the rocky soil along the road outside of the tavern, and the two men ducked aside from the shattered window. Venturing a glance, Ezrah peered around the edge of the window-frame at the large, black, hulking mass of an Amalj’aa leading three humans behind him. They walked slowly, as if in a daze, and the monstrosity did not seem to mind their presence. “Tell me, little men,” the beastman said, turning his reptilian head to the humans, “Where does this town hide its crystals?”

One of the humans pointed further head, “They are stored in the trade-house, my lord.” He replied, “The merchant told me they have a whole wagon-full.”

Ezrah balked at the curious display of a human working with an Amalj’aa, “What does he think he’s doing?”

Ronik shook his head, “Looks to be tempered, poor bastard.”

“Tempered?” Ezrah said, shocked by the realization. He had heard of those taken by the Amalj’aa and made to serve their God through some form of compulsion magics, but he had never witnessed it first hand, “Gods help him.”

Ronik tightened his grip on his sword, “There is no helping those who are already taken, but only their god can temper their minds, and for that, they need the crystals.”

Ezrah began to understand what his newfound companion was driving at, “If they get their hands on more crystals, then they can summon their god…”

“And offer those they took to him, aye,” concluded the man. He pointed to a door behind Ezrah, “Go out the side door and come at them from behind. I’ll take out the bigboy, you take those tempered sods.”

Ezrah looked doubtfully at his companion, “Are you sure you can handle him?”

The Ronik nodded, “Don’t be fooled by my gray hair, my boy. I’ve drawn more blood than I care to admit.”

Ezrah turned and headed quietly as he could to the side door of the tavern. Unlatching it, he turned and gave a nod to Ronik, who returned the gesture before taking a deep breath and charging through the front door with a mad yell. With the glare from the morning sun glistening off the steel, he bore his blade toward the hulking lizard-man. Ezrah lost no time cutting down the side alley and emerging behind the humans who were drawing their steel in response to the mad Highlander. Without hesitation, he drove his sword through the back of the first, with the man’s cry turned into a final cough of blood. His tempered compatriot turned to face the emerging threat with his own sword as the Amalj’aa turned to face the blade of the Highlander with his metal staff.

Ezrah raised his blade in time to catch the swing aimed at his head from the tempered man, who’s skin looked to be covered in a fine layer of gray ash. Particles of fine crystal dust imbedded in the ash glistened in the sun as the man readied to plunge his sword into Ezrah’s belly. Stepping aside, Ezrah shoved the attacker past him, causing the man to fall to the dirt. Before he could right himself, Ezrah plunged his borrowed steel into the back of the tempered man, bringing an end to his blighted existence.

Meanwile, the Amalj’aa was deftly deflecting the heavy blows aimed towards it from the Highlander’s broadsword. The empty street echoed with the metallic chimes of the conflict. “It seems my brothers were not as thorough as they thought!” chided the lizard-man, his jagged smile showing. Despite Ronik’s size, he was still dwarfed by the massive beastman. He swung his large blade with careful practice, but it was obvious that his form had suffered from both disuse as well as the injury he had suffered the day before. After deflecting another blow from the man, the Amalj’aa raised his staff to the air, “Enough of this, I will burn you from the earth!”

With a cry, red light began emanating from the head of his metal staff, and flames began to dance around the head of the massive monster. Seeing his chance, Ezrah lept up the back of the hulking beast and drive his sword deep between the shoulder blades of the Amalj’aa. With a cry, the beast arched his back, and his arms splayed wide, giving Ronik the opportunity he need to burry his own blade up through the neck of the monster. Both men pulled their blades free as the beast slumped to the ground, sending forth a cloud of dust. The Amalj’aa’s staff clamored to the ground, its glow and flames having died with its master.

Both men stood, panting, in the dust. “They’ll be back,” said Ronik, when his lungs allowed, “We need to be gone before they realize what happened and return with their full tribe again.”

Ezrah nodded, “Let’s make for Ul’dah, then. As fast as we can.”

“You know Ezrah,” Ronik said between labored breaths, “I may know a company where a man like you would fit right in.”

With a curious look in response, Ronik and Ezrah headed back through the ruined gates and onto the road traveling south, signs marked for the jewel of the desert.

#ffxiv #ffxiv rp #ffxiv mateus

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shatteredskies042 · 6 years

Text

NaNo Day 13: Pressure

“Cover me?” she asked, closing the cylinder and guessing the distance to the house.

“On three,” he breathed, counting under his breath. When he reached two, Michael stood up and fired at the house, focusing on the windows to drive the defenders into cover, he scored a few hits on one angel, driving him into the house, wounded. He watched Ally rise in a swirl of gold next to him, raising the tan grenade launcher and elevating it. She pulled the trigger, and a soft whump echoed through the air as the grenade arc’d through the air and broke through one of the windows on the second floor. Seconds after, that part of the house exploded outward, showering the clearing and forest around them with shrapnel. The blonde was far from done, moving smoothly and shooting through another second floor window, almost fully exposing the whole second floor and part of the first to his gunfire and her explosives.

Michael continued suppressing, firing single shots until he had to duck to reload. Ally did not have that problem, launching another round into the house and blowing open another sizable chunk of the wood-frame structure. She walked rounds from the gaping holes in the structure inside, delicately placing the explosives exactly where she wanted to, leveling the top floor of the alpha’s home. She crouched again, reaching into the box to reload the launcher, although it was not empty yet.

Michael finished his reload, and stood up, spotting wounded angels lying in the skeleton of the house, some propelled by explosions or collapse out of the building. He cleaned up the kills with a few shots each, and by the time he addressed the last target, Ally was back up and aiming. Another thumping salvo came from her weapon, and the booming explosions following it. She placed the grenades through the house, making sure not a wall stood or any of the defenders remained unscathed. Michael quit suppressing, instead opting for single shots into any form trying to flee the carnage.

The resistance had almost completely ceased, but Ally continued bombing the rubble of the house. Not a wall was left standing when Ally finished, and lowered her weapon for the last time. Nothing moved in the smoking ruins, and Michael slowly advanced to make sure of that fact. He found nothing, just the bodies of the angelic defenders, their armor covered in soot.

“I’m not finding a body that isn’t an angel,” Michael stated, as Ally and the others joined him. “Was there a basement?” he asked the woman who had tipped them off.

“Yes, I think. It would be,” she closed her eyes and walked around the foundation, then over the rubble until she stood atop the remains of the fallen brick chimney. “Here,” she pointed at a point covered in ashes and bricks.

“I’ve got it,” Ally said, kneeling and setting her weapon side. She started picking up and throwing bricks, and a door was revealed leading down below ground.

“Reinforced steel,” Michael noted, seeing it padlocked with a heavy duty lock.

“Stand back,” she told them, then echoed the command for everyone as she fished another HE round from her pocket and set it against the lock. She fashioned a small fuse, lit it, then ran to cover. There was a pop of the primer going off, then an explosion. Michael and Ally returned to the doors, and found a neat hole through the steel. Ally reached through the still smoking and hot hole, and released the doors from the inside. She opened them and stepped back, letting Michael take point.

“Better idea,” he said, backing up. “If you’re in there, make yourself known!” Michael shouted into the cellar. “You have ten seconds!” he added onto his demand, before looking to Ally. “Ten seconds and we don’t hear anything, put one in there,” he directed her.

She nodded grimly, readying as Michael repeated his command. After the time elapsed, Michael backed away, and Ally stepped up. She fired into the darkness, then retreated. There was a metal on concrete ringing as the grenade bounced, then another blast echoed through the valley. Dust and shrapnel flew from the cellar doors, before everything settled.

Michael offered his rifle to Allyson as he took it off. In it’s place, he filled his hands with his pistol and a flashlight. The blonde took it and checked the magazine, recharging the weapon before nodding her readiness. The soldier clicked the flashlight on, then stepped down into the cellar. Dust was thick in the air, and the point of blast could be easily seen. Michael stepped carefully, sweeping his light and weapon around and determining that the basement was clear.

“Michael,” she called out, the blonde on the other side of the room. She pulled on a splintered plywood panel, and soon enough Michael joined her, pulling the cover down. “Safe room,” she observed once the plank was down and discarded. “Looks new.”

Michael stepped closer to it, clearing the corners, and inspecting the door. “Heavy duty, looks brand new.”

“Inch thick steel plate,” she observed, running her hands over the secure door. “We’d need an anti-tank rocket to punch through that.”

“Well, you pulled a grenade launcher out of your hat and became my favorite magician,” Michael joked, looking at her. “Think we can get Ben to hook us up with one?”

“Firing it in here would probably kill us,” she said.

“What about going in through the top?” He asked. “We’d have to get through the concrete, sure, but the safe room was designed with that in mind.”

“So you think it’s thinner on top?” she asked.

“I’d be almost sure of it,” he told her. “However, there has to be a way to get air into there,” Michael smiled. He looked at her and smirked, “watch the door.”

He went topside, and started searching through the rubble until he found what he was looking for. He looked to one of the werewolves, and asked them to bring him some duct tape. While he waited, he searched around the foundation until he hit something not concrete and not damaged and charred grass. He returned to his position earlier, and took hold of the lime green garden hose. It might take a little while, but pressure would eventually overwhelm the system and begin to flood the room. Either the alpha drowned, or came out to face Allyson.

He turned the water on after attaching the head of the hose to the air intake, but the pressure was barely a trickle. Tracing along the hose, he noted several leaks that would be recognized when he got the duct tape. The runner returned with a roll of tape, and Michael went to work on patching the leaks. It took him a few minutes, but he got the water running steadily into the vent. Ally, I’m going to stay up here, make sure everything's running smoothly, it’ll probably take a little while for the system to be overwhelmed and start flooding the room.

I’m going to come up, then, give you your rifle and sit down here and wait for the door to open, she told him, before coming up the stairs, carrying his weapon. “Got any idea how long it’ll take?” the blonde asked as Michael accepted his weapon.

“Well, the water has to overwhelm the filtration system and then start to fill the room. It’s not a matter of when the room is full, it’s how much air does he have in there. He starts to run out, he’ll go for the exit,” Michael said confidently as he slung his rifle over his chest. “We’ll be home for dinner,” he promised.

“I’m holding you to that,” she smirked, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. The blonde turned on her heel and returned to the basement, leaning on the wall opposite the vault door, watching it and trying to listen for any sounds coming from within.

So they sat, for twenty minutes nothing happened. Ally detected sounds of metal failing and bolts popping, which meant the shelter had begun to fill with water, but nothing yet. Michael perched concealed in the ruins of the bombed out home, listening to the water run. He patched a few more minor leaks that sprung, but there was nothing too serious to deal with.

He finished patching another small leak when he saw movement in the treeline. He raised his rifle, curious, until an arrow came whizzing out of the brush towards him. In a split second reaction, Michael twisted his body to avoid the incoming shot, bringing his weapon fully to bear. “Contact!” he shouted, sending a trio of return shots along the same bearing the arrow had come from.

Unsure of how many were out there, Michael stepped back into concealment behind the base of the chimney. From how deeply the arrow had penetrated into the wall behind him, Michael assumed it was angels mounting a counterattack to save their rat. His eyes scanned the ground, wondering why they were refraining from using their wings. Ally, the pack left, right? He asked the blonde, eying her grenade launcher and the case of rounds.

As far as I know.

Okay, stay there, he asked her, before sprinting out of cover and picking up the launcher. He found the settings for the grenades, setting from timed to contact. The next time the angels showed their face, they would get an unwelcome, highly explosive response.

On the other side of the clearing, a war cry rose from the underbrush. Michael turned, and witnessed a dozen angels break the treeline, sprinting at him and his position. He raised the MGL, and took aim at the advancing force. Squeezing the trigger, he placed the first grenade at their feet, staggering the first few and sending one flying. A follow up shot disrupted the back line, dirt flying and marring the pristine armor they wore. With the angels down, Michael took up his rifle to fire and finish as many off as he could before they got up and resumed their charge. His third shot took down a few who ran, but a pair closed too close for his weapon to detonate and be effective. He dropped his left hand from the foregrip and loosened his hold on the launcher. Aligning it with the angel’s chest, Michael pulled the trigger and let the weapon leave his hand.

The blunt grenade slammed into the armor of the angel, the impact stumbling and slowing his advance, and giving Michael the time he needed to execute his next move: He dipped low, drawing his sword off his left calf and his pistol off his hip. He rolled forward, past the recovering angel to his partner a few steps behind. Coming out of the roll, Michael brought his short sword up to deflect the incoming downward blow from the warrior. The strike hit like a hammer blow, sending a shock through his arm, but his defense held. Michael moved to the right, raising his arm containing his handgun. He fired a trio of shots, each walking up from the angel’s high breastplate, to the thinly guarded throat, finally the kill shot under the jaw.

He turned to face his initial attacker, who had recovered from the hard blow from impact of the undetonated grenade. Michael charged as he turned, swiping his own angel metal sword through the flexible knee joint of the angelic soldier. This brought the angel to a knee, a groan of pain coming from behind the golden helmet he wore. Michael gave the helmeted head a solid strike, and the armor loosened. Digging the pommel of his sword under it, he tore the helmet off and got ready to deliver the killing blow, until the angel loosely swung back at him and caught him in the legs.

The attack hurt, and sent Michael stepping back a few steps to recover. When he regained his footing, the angel had turned and advanced, swinging his sword at Michael’s head. The soldier stepped forward into the strike, dropping his shoulder and ramming it into the armored form. Again, pain blossomed through his body, but he fought on. He brought his gun hand up, pressing it up and under the chest plate, firing over and over, unloading his magazine.

When the USP clicked empty, Michael gave a shove to the wounded angel and made a short withdrawal. He depressed the mag release and violently twisted his wrist to launch the spent magazine to the grass. He would not have the time to finish his reload before the warrior attacked him again, desperate due to the injuries he had sustained. Michael holstered his pistol and switched his short blade to his dominant hand, spinning it quickly before he met the attack.

The angel thrusted his weapon at Haghn, an attack parried and evaded the attack, knocking his opponent’s sword away. He swung at the angel, an attack met by an armored forearm and deflected off the tough armor.

Michael quickly stepped away from his attacker, recovering and watching his movements, what the angel seemed to be favoring. The chest injury seemingly was taking a toll on the angel’s attacks and movements, and it was something Michael thought he could capitalize on.

“You are not going to win,” the angel spat, his voice thickened by pain. “Even if I fall, thousands more await their turn.”

“I’ve faced odds like that before,” he stated. “If you were a competent force I might be threatened by that statement.”

“Insults and sarcasm, human?”

“You know you can walk away, right now,” Michael offered, almost pleading.

“Begging for your life, human?”

“No, begging for yours.”

As the words left his lips, an arrow passed harmlessly over Michael’s shoulder. It sunk into the angel’s throat, finally putting an end to his resistance. Shaking his head as the body fell, Michael flicked the blood off his sword and returned it to its sheath, before he recovered the arrow and reloaded his pistol. “I had that guy, you know,” he told the blonde.

Ally stood on the foundation of the ruined house with a smirk, “you were taking too long,” she teased him. She picked up the grenade launcher and started to reload it, leaning on the box. “I made sure nobody else was getting up,” she told him grimly.

“Thank you,” he said softly, checking the remaining rounds in his rifle’s magazine. “How’s our friend doing?” he asked the blonde.

“The safe room was starting to fill, can’t tell how much, but I’m definitely getting bubbling, so it’s in the floor,” she said. “Won’t be long.”

“No, I don’t want to fight off any more attacks,” he stated, making sure the water was still flowing steadily.

“They might have missed a check in, or it was a guard change,” she mused, leaning on the blasted fireplace.

“Why aren’t the angels using their wings and flying?” he asked her, curious.

“They haven’t developed an armor for wings, and they’re very exposed,” she told him, quite obviously. “And,” she rubbed her arm, remembering her own experiences, “getting them cut off hurts.”

“Never again, Ally,” Michael promised softly, stepping forward and gently taking her head in his hand.

The blonde leaned into his palm, relaxing into his touch. “Thank you,” she said softly, heartfelt for everything he did. “Michael, I truly do not know what I would do without you,” she told him.

“You’d do everything you usually do,” he said cheerfully, with a smile on his lips. “Just wouldn’t do it as well as I do.”

She laughed, moving in close to him and snaking her arms around his neck, “you may be everything people say you are,” she whispered, “arrogant, delusional, crazy... But you’re mine.”

A soft shiver passed through his bones at her statement, setting his hands on her waist and holding her close to his weapon bearing chest. “I’m yours, as long as you’ll be mine,” he said softly.

Ally looked up at him, then leaned in and pressed their lips together. She wanted nothing more than to curl up his lap and just hold him, run her hands over him and kiss him until she passed out, but now was not the place for it. Instead, she gave him a gentle and adoring kiss, one whole heartedly reciprocated by her loving boyfriend. After a few moments of bliss, Ally pulled away, pulling her hands off his neck and smiling. They would do this more once they returned home, she swore it to herself.

Michael breathed softly, closing his eyes and replaying the moment in his mind, burning the details of her lips into his mind. He wanted to remember that, remember every moment of every kiss and embrace. Something to keep him going when things got rough, a reminder of what he fought for.

Ally bowed her head, closing her eyes. “Mechanical sounds,” she said softly, before ending their moment by taking a large stride back to the cellar. Michael followed on her heels, following her down and drawing his pistol again.

Water leaked from the safe room door, as it slowly was forced open. Michael and Ally stood back as the room drained, and a soaking wet man fell through, panting. Their target.

“Brain,” Ally clucked her tongue. “This all would have been avoided if you opened the door. Or if you didn’t sell us out to the angels,” she told the prostrate man, her voice dripping with vile acid. “I hope you feel proud of all the people you’ve gotten hurt, and killed.”

“I did,” he spat and sputtered, “what was best for my people.”

“Maybe, but selling her out wasn’t your smartest move,” Michael told him. “Did you really think crossing us would end well for you?”

“Is fighting Heaven that worth it to you?” the lycan asked.

“A cause worth dying for,” Michael confirmed.

“You are fanatics,” their target uttered.

“Maybe,” Ally agreed. “All you had to do was say you would not support our campaign.”

Michael brought his pistol up, and fired once. Blood pooled with water and spread in the liquid, spreading through the room. Ally turned and retreated, Michael beside her as they left the basement. A swirling portal opened at her direction, and Michael carried the ammo box and the grenade launcher through, back into the living room of the Institute.

Words: 3,076

Total: 21,080

(Total word count got messed up somewhere along the way, this number reflects the actual word count)

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