#i drove out to a wooded trail and took a walk by myself just to BREATHE

[final-girl96]

Broken World: Chapter Twenty-Three

YN

“Great, you've gotten yourself fucking lost,” I whispered to myself. I had decided to just stay still and lean up against a tree. I kept my ears open for any movement or the sound of the dead. I was hoping someone would notice I wasn't back. I hoped it was Daryl because I knew he would be the one to find me out of everyone. But on the other hand I didn't want him to be the one. I knew he would be yelling at me and calling me a dumb bitch or something. Hell, I feel like a dumb bitch. I should have brought a flashlight with me.

Something to my right rustled, making me stand straight and grip my knife tighter. My eyes were kind of adjusted to the dark enough that I could see some shapes and shadows. The moon cast a small glow through the canopy of the tree. I stepped out into the middle of the trail when I heard a very familiar snarl. A walker slowly shuffled towards me, one arm extended out in an attempt to grab me. Walking forward I grabbed its arm with my left hand and drove the blade of my knife into its head. Just as I pulled the knife out and let the walker fall, three more showed up.

I kicked the leg out from under one of them while stabbing another through the eye. The third came up grabbing at my shirt while the second held tight to my leg. I swiftly stabbed the one grabbing my shirt, pushing it away, and went to take care of the other when a bolt went through its head. I looked up to see Daryl standing a few feet away. “I had that handled.”

“You also have getting fuckin’ lost handled?” I glared at him and pulled his bolt out of the walker's head. “I was retracing the trail we found and took yesterday. I thought maybe I might see something we missed,” I said. Surprisingly he didn't comment.I handed him his arrow and he snatched it out of my hand. “Come on, we'll walk the trail for a little bit before headin’ back.” He took the lead as he pointed the light towards the ground. Awkward silence fell between us while we walked down the tree lined path.

“I remember the story you told me about when you were younger. You got lost in the woods for nine days.” Daryl didn't say anything, just continued to walk. We heard rustling to the left of us. Daryl held his hand out, bringing his crossbow up to aim towards the noise. My grip tightened around the handle of my knife anxiously waiting. The beam of light from Daryl's flashlight panned up and landed on the cause. Andrea came out from the brush, half tripping on a tree root. “The hell ya doin’ out here?” Daryl asked, in an irritated voice. “I wanted to help,” she sassdd back. “Don't need your damn help.”

Andrea looked over at me and I raised my eyebrow. “Where were you?” She asked. “In the woods obviously. I wanted to retrace our steps,” I said. She looked like she wanted to say something cock back but didn't. “Did you find anything?” She asked instead. I shook my head and the three of us continued on the path. “I heard you talking about Daryl getting lost,” she said. I nodded my head, “What happened?” She asked, walking beside me. Daryl was ahead of us but didn't say anything. “Did they find you?”

“Nah, I was stuck out there for nine days eating berries until I eventually found my way home and made myself a sandwich,” He told her. “Oh, and he also ended up wh–” Daryl stopped, turned, and looked at me. “Don’t.” I gave him a devilish smile. “He whipped his ass with poison ivy!” I laughed. “That's horrible,” Andrea said, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Daryl grumbled.

We came upon a tent shortly after. It was clearly abandoned a while ago. Looking over to the tree I see something dangling from it. “What’s that?” Daryl panned his light over to where I was looking to reveal a walker hanging in the trees, his legs completely eaten away by other walkers. I looked at a piece of paper nailed to the tree and read it out loud.

Got Bite

Fever Hit

World Gone To Shit

May As Well Quit

“He wasn't smart enough to shoot himself in the head. Look at him hanging up there like a big pinata,” Daryl said. We both walked away when Andrea stopped us. “Aren't you going to…” Daryl looked at her and up at the walker. “He ain't botherin’ no one.” In the end he made her a deal. She answered a question for an arrow. He asked why she wanted to stay behind at the CDC, she gave a vague answer and he put a bolt through the head of the walker before we headed back to the highway.

When we got back Carol was on the roof, but when she saw us she got upset at seeing we didn't have Sophia and went back into the RV. Andrea walked away from us and went to the ladder as Dale was coming down. They had a short talk before she went up onto the roof to keep watch. Dale came over to Daryl and I, looking right at me. “What were you thinking going off on your own?” I raised my right eyebrow. “I was looking for Sophia. I'm a grown adult, Dale, I don't need someone to babysit me.”

The next morning we made sure to leave a bunch of supplies on the hood of a pale yellow mustang with a sign on the windshield for Sophia. Then we made our way to the Greene farm. When we got there we were told everything that had happened. Carl had been shot, not on purpose, but the man, Otis, was out hunting and shot a deer. The bullet went through the deer and into Carl. Luckily Hershel was a doctor.

Well, he's not a people doctor, he's an animal doctor. He was a veterinarian before the outbreak. He was able to save Carl. Shane and the man Otis went to a FEMA shelter at the school to get what he needed. Unfortunately, Otis never made it back. We had a small memorial for him. The story Shane told just didn't sit right with me. I had taken notice of his new hair and the way he didn't hold eye contact with anyone for too long. He wasn't telling the real story of what happened.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead andrea #the walking dead shane #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fic #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd fic #twd andrea #daryl x y/n

[leggerefiore]

YOU CANT JUST BULLY SAWSBUCK INGO LIKE THAT!!! He deserves some fuck too 🥺🥺🥺

seeing as three people have pleaded to also fuck ingo, here you go lmao

cw: 18+ content, afab reader, pokehybrid au, sawsbuck ingo, outdoor sex, breeding kink

He was frustrated.

He could never even beat his little brother in a fight over who got you, and was chased off into the woods to mope about it.

A sigh left Ingo as he laid in a sun spot within the grotto. The sun was warm and pleasant, but nothing would satiate the growing itch inside him but what he was denied. Emmet was always the more physically active and aggressive of the two, so it would only make sense he would win such a competition. Ingo allowed his mind to wander for a while in his spot.

Until a snapping stick drove him from his thoughts. His eyes immediately went over to you, who stared at him sweetly. “Ingo,” you cooed and walked over to him, cupping his face. Your forehead rested against his for a moment, mindful of his horns, before moving to kiss him. He wanted to speak to you, but your lips danced against his wonderfully and prevented him from attempting to. Even when he opened his mouth to talk, you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Your arms pressed his upper torso to yours and left him a bit dazed. When the kiss finally ended, you smiled at him so lovingly. Then, you began in inexplicably stripping. He was flustered and tried to avert his eyes, but you laughed again. “C'mon, I thought that's what you and Emmet were fighting over, do you not want to fuck?” you teased him, sliding off the last of your clothing. He froze. Your vulgar word haunted his mind. That is what he wanted. Badly.

You laid a blanket out from your bag and sat on it, legs spread out to give him a full view. “Do I need to prepare myself or do you know how to?” you asked him. He snapped from his stupor and laid himself down to be on your level. His hands grasped your thighs nervously as he felt himself growing excited.

“I-I'll do it,” he nodded and brought a tentative hand between your legs. His thumb nervously pressed between your folds, feeling the odd warmth and moisture of it for a moment. He trailed it up and found for a moment before landing on your clit. Pressing it gently, he began to work it into circles. A silent groan came from you, and he felt more confident. He brought his index finger in to circle your entrance before diving it inside.

You gripped the blanket in anticipation as he brought another to join the first. He began to scissor you open and felt eagerly bucked your hips up. His thumb continued to play with your clit, too. Everything felt so wonderful. Eventually, he began to thrust his fingers in and out of you, working you over into a small orgasm. A sigh came from you at the pleasure. He removed his fingers from you and brought them up to his face. Ingo sniffed them for a moment before placing them inside his mouth.

A blush settled across your face as his eyes went distant for a moment. You tasted amazing to him. He wanted to eat you out, but you decided to shift onto your knees and gaze at him smugly. “Ingooo, your dick is already peaking out,” you teased him, seeing the phallus, “I know you're ready.” He nodded nervously. Standing over you, he felt his dick brush against your folds for a moment. Before he could even think about it, your hand moved to correct his positioning. His cock head pressed against your entrance as he nervously swallowed his spit. “Hurry up,” you told him, “What if a hiker a finds us?” 

He whined, but pressed himself inside of you. The stretch was a bit of a thrill, his cock much longer and thicker than a human's own. You let out a moan as he finally bottomed out. A bit of his fur tickled you, and the hooves reminded you of just how dangerous he could be. He remained still for a moment, clearly conscious of his size. Eventually, however, you moved your hips desperately. “Mooove,” you whined, “You feel amazing…”

He pulled himself almost completely out of you before pressing in. Ingo let out a moan and quickly found a rhythm to his thrusts. You felt in pure bliss as the deertaur fucked into you sweetly. Even despite the threat of possibly being seen, you could only focus on the dick pushing into you so well. With a cry from you for more speed, he soon moved into pounding into you.

You gripped the blanket when his dick hit a sensitive spot inside you. He took immediate notice of your reaction and took to targeting that spot with each thrust. “I… I love you more than anything,” he whined, “I hated the idea of him getting you. I want to be with you… Perhaps raising a Deerling together…” You could barely think, but his kind words touched your heart. The thought was still quickly fucked from your mind as his dick hit that area again, sending you into a frenzy.

A coil that had been building in your stomach snapped as you crashed into the blanket below, mind empty for a moment. Ingo could not last much longer with how your walls tightened around and milked his cock. A few more thrusts happened before he buried himself to the hilt and came. Heat spread deep inside you, as you laid with your head in your arms.

He removed himself from you and softly shifted you to lay on his lower body as he laid down, too. You nuzzled your face into his fur as heavy breaths came from you.

“A Deerling, huh?” you finally replied after regaining yourself somewhat, “… You're such a softie, Ingo.” You managed to peck a kiss to his cheek before drifting off against him. The Sawsbuck hybrid decided to remain wide awake to guard you during your nap.

~

Ingo startled awake as his brother gazed down at him. Kricktots chirped, and the sun had since disappeared from the sky.

Had…

Had that all been a dream?

#ingo x reader #ingo/reader #pokemon ingo x reader #smut #nastystuff #pokehybrid au

[cityelf]

My first clue should have been how I felt the second I stepped through the front door yesterday morning.

The house was empty, I knew it was empty. It had to be empty. There were no signs of broken windows. The door was locked, and nobody else had a key. So why, why the hell did I feel like someone else was there?

This isn't my house, let's be clear. It's an old, listed building, all creaky floorboards and drafty windows. I'm just its lowly caretaker until the funds can be raised to adequately restore it.

Which, unfortunately for me, means that every other week I have to inspect every single one of its huge rooms, with shadows so thick that no amount of sunlight through the sizeable windows can penetrate. I have to make sure there's no damages, no break-ins, no squatters or graffiti. Everyone knows that the place is uninhabited, it's a sitting duck.

And just this morning, I locked myself in the building. Alone. With the sneaking suspicion that someone - or something - was in there with me. The wood that groaned beneath my feet with every step did nothing to dissuade my paranoia.

Even though it was still daylight, I switched on my phone's torch. Just in case… I don't know, in case something had a deadly fear of phone lights.

It didn't help.

The ground floor seemed… fine. Nothing out of place. No extra trails through the dust lying thick on the floor that would indicate the presence of an intruder.

Checking on this place has been part of my job for over a year now. I take the same route every single inspection, and know the items in every space like the back of my hand.

Which is why, when I eventually completed my circuit of the ground floor and climbed the steep staircase to the next floor - careful to step lightly so any noise was reduced to the absolute minimum - I knew something was wrong.

Something pale and withered lay before me, right in the middle of my path. As if someone had placed it specifically for me to find. My heart threatened to pound out of my chest, roaring in my ears as I stood stock still, just looking at it. I was reluctant to get any closer, of course - but this is what I get paid for.

I could have called for backup, fetched someone to join me in checking the rest of the building, waited outside for them to get here. But I had that pervasive worry of… what if it was nothing? Just a scrap of plaster fallen from the ceiling? A lost page from a newspaper scattered in with the wind?

Somehow not making a fool of myself in front of my colleagues (god forbid being reported to one of my higher ups) ranked higher in my list of priorities than any kind of self-preservation.

I had to take a closer look. I had to.

The entire house seemed to fall silent as I took one step closer, then another. If anything, the silence was actually worse than the ambient complaints usually uttered by the old building. It felt like it was holding its breath.

I couldn't bring myself to touch it. I'm not that brave. But as I lent in over it to take a closer look, nausea washed over me as I realised what it was. Pale, dried out, flesh. Skin.

As I recoiled from the offending scrap I noticed something else. Another scrap. In a pool of shadows just before the first doorway along the corridor.

But this one looked long.

The repulsion I felt was overwhelming, but somehow that was not the part of me that won out in that moment. It was one tiny, morbid dash of curiosity that drove me to examine it, despite the shaking that had overwhelmed every one of my senses.

Despite every inch of my body screaming to flee, I continued walking.

That hallway has next to no natural light, so little that even the torch of my phone couldn't find its end in the gloom.

That was the moment when it would have been wise to phone it in. Take a photo and run. Let someone who gets paid more take care of it – whatever it is.

I took another step.

I was correct, it seems, in my observation that it seemed long. This scrap is more of a strip. Electricity jangled through my spine, through every bone in my body as I began to follow the impossibly long length of puckered, pale, skin.

I convinced myself that following it was better than looking too closely at it. At the wispy bits of some thread-like substance that seemed to be embedded in it. About halfway down the hallway, it began to curl.

It curled so much that it crossed over itself and snaked out of sight through a doorway. Through a gap between the frame and the door itself, the door that should have been closed.

And then I noticed it shift. Not the door, the skin. Just slightly, barely perceptible. But it moved.

I don't know what possessed me to push the door open. To raise my phone in my shaky hand and survey what lay within the long abandoned nursery of this grand old home.

At the pulsating, violently red flesh – inner flesh – of the creature that was still laboriously peeling off what remained of its own skin.

I don't remember making any noise, but maybe the door creaked as I opened it, because the thing turned and looked at me. With beady black eyes and a smile that was too wide, far too wide, permanently stitched into a face that had no other features.

Every time I close my eyes, I am once more frozen in place as it begins to split, vertically, where its skin has already been removed, showing blunt, yellowed teeth all of mismatched sizes. All the way down.

From within its mangled form, a single word seemed to emerge. A cacophony of dripping gore squelching one sound, insistently. Maybe I imagined it, a last gasp of madness before I fled.

I don't think I locked the door behind me as I left, but I don't care. I'm not even sure if it matters - I have no idea how it got in there, and I can only hope it doesn't get out.

I'm not going to check, either way. I'm not even going back there next week, they can fire me if they want. I've already put in a request to change location - maybe they won't notice that I've stopped turning up for long enough for my post to be transferred. If not, I'm handing in my notice.

Maybe I should lose the keys. Maybe I should throw a brick through the window and report that, so someone will go check. Maybe I should tell the truth and warn the higher ups, or at least whoever they get to replace me. I should try, even if they just think I'm trying to haze them.

I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I don't know what it was, or how it got there, or why it was peeling itself. And I… don't know how it knew the garbled, groaning word that emerged from its maw - and I'll never be able to stop hearing it. Much as I want to believe I misheard it, I know what I heard.

I don't know how it knew my name.

#writing tag #horror #horror story #short story #pls reblog if u enjoy >:}

[gatzilksis-2]

Today's Holiday: First Finale Pt. 1

July 31: The Boys Who Lived...

Intern: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Main story: Part 9 Part 8 Part 7 Part 6

Part 5 (links to 1-4)

18+

Donnie

Donnie couldn't have been happier to zip up a suitcase. Their hotel room was completely full of cheesecake farts. Over the night, they'd been so bad that Michael slept on top of the blankets. Donnie was grateful for the lack of a Dutch oven.

"Where to now?" Donnie feared the answer, but he asked anyways.

Michael opened the door and smirked. "Home...kinda."

"And you can't tell me specifically where?"

"I can, but I won't." Michael gestured for Donnie to go ahead of him through the open door.

Donnie gladly walked into the fresh air and took several deep breaths. Michael shoved him towards his car, and Donnie snapped out of it and continued.

Sitting in the stale far trap of a vehicle wasn't as bad this time, not after all the gas Donnie had just been through. He was getting slightly used to it, a truly gross thought. Donnie would keep it to himself; Michael would undoubtedly take it as a challenge.

Michael left the lot and leaned away from Donnie. PHHRRRRRRRwrrrrrRRRRT! He took a deep breath as the cheesecake fart immediately surrounded them. "Ready for the grand finale?"

"No." Donnie sat his head back, not even wanting to imagine what his boss had cooked up. "But yes. I just want it to be over."

"Soon." Michael waved a hand to Donnie from between his legs, sending him another rotten cheesecake fart, silent.

Donnie grimaced. Soon the car would smell just like the motel room. "Not soon enough."

Cameron (boyfriend)

I missed Michael's farts.

I missed Michael himself, yes, but the farts were the main thing. I was going through gas withdrawal. I had sniffed up every frequently-used seat cushion, every dirty pair of underwear and shorts.

Michael was still on his last-minute, emergency business trip. I had been reduced to giving myself gas and smelling my own farts. However, it was beyond disappointing: it would take at least 5 of my feeble farts to match one of Michael's.

I woke on July 31, the day Michael was coming back home. I had a text from him and smiled. However, it wasn't a cutesy text or a sext but the location of a dropped pin on the maps app.

I clicked it, finding the red pin pointing to a place in the middle of nowhere, the woods. My smile grew, and I started getting hard thinking of what Michael could be planning. He was a delightfully devious man, and I couldn't wait to see what he'd cooked up this time.

Donnie

Donnie bolted from the passenger seat with a hand over his mouth. Michael laughed as he rolled down all four windows. "Okay. I don't wanna kill you, so I guess we'll let it air out a little."

"Thank you." His sick wouldn't come. Donnie slowly turned back to return to the car. He'd been worrying about wherever they were headed for an hour. They had another hour before he would know.

Michael drove away, and wind roared into all of his car's windows. The multiple layers of farts began to lighten until Donnie could barely smell it. He looked out his window as they passed a semi. "Can't you tell me what it is?"

"Sure." Michael lifted his ass behind him. BLRBWRRRR! He settled and sighed. "That's what it is."

Of course. Why wouldn't he answer with a fart? This was Michael, he who could be accurately proclaimed fart king or master or some other disgusting title.

Cameron

I got dropped off at the end of the wooded trail. I turned to wave goodbye to a coworker nice enough to give me a ride. I stayed looking at my phone screen, following the path closer and closer to the dropped pin.

I had to leave the path. It seemed dangerous, like an early scene in a horror movie. If Michael and his farts were on the other side, I didn't care how the hell I got there.

I saw smoke and picked up the pace to find the fire. It sat in a clearing in the forest, and two shirtless men were standing over. I gasped with a smile, and my dick twitched. It was Michael's cousin Brent and Uncle Frank.

I joined them at once. "Uh, hi."

"Didn't think you'd be so soon." Frank shook my hand, his body almost making me drool. He was acting like he hadn't fed me an amazing fart and left me a mess of cum on the kitchen floor.

Brent did a sort of funny dance, bouncing back and forth on his long, sandaled feet. "Do we have to wait for Mike? I'm fuckin' bursting, Uncle Frank."

I sat on the ground and gestured for Brent to come to me. They exchanged a look and laughed. Frank reached forward to pat my head. "We're supposed to wait for Michael."

"I don't care." I hit Brent's leg with the back of a hand.

Brent turned his black shorts to my face, and I buried my face into his ass. VRRRRR-BWRRRR-RRRR-ERRR-ERRR! BWAMP!

The eggy farts of Brent filled my head, and I got hard already. I hadn't had any farts in almost three whole days. This wasn't Michael's, but I accepted it's thick, eggy power.

I pulled my head away from it, suddenly feeling much better. I stood and readjusted my junk. "Thanks."

A twig snapped behind me, and I turned. My lips pulled into a huge smile as butterflies fluttered in my abdomen. Michael smiled back at me.

I almost ran to him, but then I saw a flustered-looking short, scrawny guy beside him. He didn't look like a farter. In fact, the guy looked more like the perfect target...

I stepped over a tree root and stopped in front of Michael. My face was hot, and I tried to lie to myself, to believe Michael's lies. "Who's this?"

Michael studied me for a long moment, and he donned an unsure grin. "Please don't be mad."

He stepped closer to take my hands, but I dropped my hands to my sides. Someone shoved me from behind. Michael caught me and forced me to my knees.

I was hard, but I was also mad. The random guy was watching the scene with wide, horrified eyes.

Michael pushed my head into his ass. "Here's my apology."

BWOOOOR-VRRRRRMP!

I wanted to be mad, but he'd ripped one of the deep, gurgling ones. They were my favorite, and he knew.

Michael's fart scent was stronger than ever before. I didn't know what he ate, but he needed to eat it more often. I pushed my face against his pants and took deep sniffs.

Donnie

Fart invaded Donnie's open mouth as he watched Michael face-fart his boyfriend. He had no idea how someone could like that so much.

Donnie tried not to look at the other two men, one like an older Michael and the other pale and thinner. He wasn't fond of smelling farts in front of them.

What if he was expected to smell their farts, too? He wouldn't do it.

Michael's boyfriend parted from his ass with a big smile, still snifffing the air. Donnie was disturbed by it; how could two human beings react so differently to the same gross thing.

"I'm not--" Donnie didn't want to finish his sentence, so he looked at Michael and gestired to the other men.

"That's right." The boyfriend blinked a few times, coming out of a daze. "Who's this, Michael?"

"He's an intern smelling my farts for a big work promotion." Michael winked at Donnie. "Enough talking! See, today isn't really anything special, but it is Harry Potter's birthday. I guess you two could be seen as The Boys Who Lived after this."

All the color drained from Donnie's face. "After what?"

Michael grabbed both of his arms and forced him down. The money, Donnie, the money!

His boss knelt on the ground and forced him all the way into a lying position. "Don't worry about these two telling anyone; they're family."

Michael got up and stripped naked, and the paler one confidently did the same. Donnie could get up and run, but it would be futile; everyone here would be faster than him.

Michael put a bare foot to either side of his head and rested his crack against Donnie's chin. FRP! BWRRRR! BWAAAP!

The hairy, giant ass moved back without warning. Michael pulled his cheeks apart as Donnie groaned in the evil stench. He sealed his asshole against Donnie's nose, hot and sweaty and so unbelievably smelly.

The asshole puckered and expanded. PHLRRRRRRRRRT! BRRRAAHP!

His nose tickled with vibrations, but then it filled with the immediate, dairy-enchanced stink. Donnie groaned and struggled to get up, but Michael was far too heavy.

Cameron

"After what?"

I watched Michael manhandle the small intern. It should've felt like cheating, but instead, it was like a face fart video in person. I rubbed my crotch as Michael forced his employee to lie on the forest floor.

He got up to strip naked. While Frank began to put together a tent, Brent took off his clothes, as well.

The slender man had a good butt and good farts, and he was staring at me as Michael lowered himself onto his intern's face. I nodded at Brent and got to my knees.

He approached me with a mischievous smile. I lay on the ground just like Michael's current victim. And just like Michael, Brent dropped his ass onto my face. There was barely any hair around his hole.

FSSSssshhhh...FLRRRP! VRWRWAAAP!

It was hot and eggy, and the latter part was strong enough to shake my whole face. I took huge sniffs as Brent chuckled. "Man, thank God! There's so much in there. HMP!"

FLRRRWRRRWRRRR-BWRP!

I opened my mouth to take in more of it. It wasn't on par with Michael's current gas, but it was sweet and eggy and thick.

Brent relaxed his weight, and my nose was smushed under his butt. RR-FLRRRP-PHWRRRRP!

"Oh yeah!" Brent moved his ass around. It was a perfect move, and I was surprised he was new to this type of face-farting. I had a raging boner, and I knew he could see it.

Brent got up, and I looked to the side, panting. The intern was flailing under Michael's nude ass. Michael winked at me and rolled his hands into fists. BWR-BWOOOOWR-ERRR-PHLRRRT!

The smaller man flailed harder, and Michael finally stood. His tan monster of a dick was fully hard, twitching at an angle.

On the ground, the scrawny office nerd coughed and gasped for air, clutching his stomach with tears in his eyes. "Please no more."

Uncle Frank rejoined the group and held out his arms to a newly-assembled tent. "Tent's done! We still doing this?"

Donnie

Donnie sat up in alarm at the question. He would smell those last few face farts forever. He was sick to his stomach, and he was beginning to think the job perks wouldn't even be worth it. "Doing what?"

He knew exactly what the idea was; it didn't take a genius. The tent was on the smaller side, big enough for maybe four regular-sized adults. They had five adults, and two of them were huge.

Donnie took a deep breath of surprisingly mostly clean air. At least they'd been outside. The tent would be a different story. Donnie didn't want to do it, but judging from the timing, it would be the last location of his fart torture.

Then he really could call himself The Boy Who Lived.

@gatzilksis-2 to buy my stories or order one of your own!

#eproctophilia #farts #eprocto #fart kink #flatulence #gatzilksis #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[dreamingofscully]

Surely, to the sea (6/7)

read on ao3 - chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5

Rated: T Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, Horror, Established Relationship

Playlists: Spotify, Youtube.  

@today-in-fic

CHAPTER 6

For the third time, Scully found herself standing in the hallway outside Boyle’s room. She couldn’t remember walking over here, or why she’d done it. In her hands, she held the empty glass vials that she was supposed to be using to collect samples. Water and scrapings of dust and mold from the cellar.

Shaking herself as if from a trance, she returned to the living room. Placing the vials on the table, she sunk back onto the couch. She didn’t trust herself to move. But did it matter? Would she find herself, once more, waiting outside Boyle’s room, or entering it by herself? Leaning forward, she wiped her hand on her face and waited for Mulder to return.

It wasn’t much longer. He crashed through the front door like a kid who’d finished playing with his friends, bringing his frenetic energy into this God-forsaken house.

“Hey, Scully. I couldn’t find any more symbols etched outside, though I don’t think that means we’re on the wrong track. It really is a strange thing to be outside in complete silence, almost drove me a little batty. Did you find anyth–”

She peered up at him, his eyes filled with concern. He approached and she gave him a wan smile.

“You okay, honey?”

She took a deep breath. “I don’t know, Mulder. I feel something… pulling on me. Like last night. Towards Boyle’s room. I don’t… I don’t trust myself.”

Mulder looked over his shoulder, noticing the empty vials and other tools lying haphazardly on the table. Kneeling in front of her, he wrapped her hands in his large, warm ones.

“Do you have a sense of what’s pulling you? An image or a name?”

She scoffed. “No, Mulder. I-It’s probably just my imagination. I didn’t sleep well, and��” She trailed off, catching his look. “I don’t know what this is.”

Everything that happened last night felt insignificant. She could handle strange noises, lights. Even the smell and the mucus. But not knowing what was happening to herself? Feeling out of control in her own body? What if this was how things were, now? She was terrified she was losing herself. That she was forever changed. That the woman who stood next to Mulder and fought the darkness was forever lost.

Mulder squeezed her hands. “Let’s talk to Boyle. Insist upon it. Or we leave.”

“Mulder.”

He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s get you some answers.”

She exhaled, wiping her hands on her slacks. Stood next to him.

He watched her as they maneuvered through the main floor, drawing the curtains closed. With each window blocked off, the house returned to its normal state. Shadowy darkness and warm lamplight. A return to Boyle’s present and his reliance on the tools of the past to survive.

All of their equipment was packed away except for three things: the camera that swung around Mulder’s neck, his Buck 119 knife sheathed at his waist, and the large flashlight that she’d wielded last night. The lingering graze of his fingers across the back of her hand was his only acknowledgment of their earlier conversation. It would take constant work to avoid slipping into the habit of putting up a brave face. Trying to fool herself, and therefore Mulder, that things would be fine if only she could withstand the storm just a little bit longer.

“Now or never,” she said.

They left the aura of the flickering oil lamp, moving down the hallway towards Boyle’s room.

At his door, Mulder rapped his knuckle against the wood. Only yesterday they arrived at his house, waited at his front door. And like last time, like last night, there was no response.

Mulder turned the knob and the door creaked open.

“Boyle?” he called.

Nothing.

Mulder looked at her, his lips pressed together, and though most of his face lay in shadow, she saw the same concern she felt etched upon it. Were they too late? Silence hung heavy in the air, surrounding them as surely as the darkness and sweltering heat.

“Boyle?” Mulder raised his voice. “We just need to ask you a few quest--”

The beam of light swept across the bedroom, catching on the weighty four-poster bed shoved into the center of the room. She doubted Mulder could have moved it more than a few inches, so how had Boyle managed it? The rug that laid underneath was pushed aside, its soft ridges curved around thick posts.

A sharp pain struck her between and behind her eyes. Squeezing them shut, she drew her brows together and held her fingers at her temple. Felt the throb of her pulse.

Mulder’s hand was on her arm, steadying her.

“Scully…”

She swallowed. “Yeah.”

When she opened her eyes, she saw it. Instead of the crumpled rug, something else was strangling the bedposts. Monstrous tentacles as thick as Mulder’s thigh, trembling like a great cat about to pounce. Underneath its slippery, translucent skin, a thick vein rippled. Following the movement, a wave of glowing green washed through the creature, lighting the room a sickly green.

They… no, it beckoned to her. An icy fist enclosing her heart. Somehow, she found the strength to take a step backwards. Expelling her breath like she’d been punched to the gut, she felt as if she’d lost something in the struggle. She’d resisted, but at what cost?

She turned away and muttered a quick prayer, but when she looked back, it was gone. In its place was the same wrinkled medallion-patterned rug that was there earlier. That had always been there? Bouncing the light around the room, she searched for something that wasn’t there. Nothing she could see, but the picture remained, burned into her retinas like an afterimage.

Mulder’s hand warmed her back. His eyes were gentle, patient. Watching her instead of searching the room.

“Talk to me, Scully.”

“Th-there was something under the bed. I don’t know if it was really there, or if--”

Drip… drip… drip…

Mulder whipped his head towards the room. He’d heard that, at least. But what was worse: that the apparition was real, or that it wasn’t?

Suddenly, he slipped from her grasp. With three long strides into the room, he reached the other side of the bed. Without thinking, she stumbled after him, avoiding the coiled rug. Did she move to be next to him or was something else responsible? At his side, she grabbed onto his arm for balance.

Beneath them, right where the bed once stood, was a hole that extended through the floor and into darkness. The floorboards had been removed, the edges jagged as though they’d been ripped instead of cut. It was roughly three feet in diameter, wide enough for one person to descend at a time.

Mulder knelt down and touched the edge, then yanked his hand away. The same mucus from last night glistened on his fingers. Grimacing, he wiped it with a handkerchief he kept in his back pocket before peering down into the pit. The walls were uneven, but a strange pattern ran through the soil and clay, something that pricked at the edge of her mind.

“Someone dug this with their hands, Scully.”

The pattern coalesced. Lines of four for fingers and fifth for the thumb.

“Not someone,” she breathed. Boyle.

“Tell me what you saw,” he said, peering up at her.

He didn’t demand an answer, but he deserved one.

“There was… I-I think I’m going crazy.”

“You’re not,” Mulder stood, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck. “I believe you, Scully.”

She huffed. “You’d believe it if Samantha claimed she saw a Sasquatch on her camping trip.”

“Did she?” He raised his eyebrows.

She smiled halfheartedly, her fear coiling in her gut like a snake.

“There’s things in those books I’ve been reading. Creatures from other worlds. These rituals… they’re meant to summon them.” He watched her with trepidation instead of his usual enthusiasm. She missed it. “That could be their motivation, Scully. They feed on Boyle, on his misery, on the wildlife around here. They want to summon something.”

“I guess they’ve succeeded?”

Mulder glanced at the hole, at the finger-marks. “There’s something we’re missing.”

“Then let’s find out.”

He turned to her, searching her eyes. She met them, not trying to hide her fear behind a veneer of false bravado. What would be the point? He kissed her forehead. After securing the camera, he began his slow descent down the crudely carved steps.

She followed his progress with the flashlight as he climbed into the murky darkness, although the shadows seemed to strangle the light and she couldn’t see the bottom. Worried he’d vanish from her sight, she was relieved when he stopped about ten feet down and looked up at her. Then his head disappeared from view.

“Ahh, fuck!” he shouted.

“You okay?” Her heart hammered in her chest. “Mulder?!”

He appeared again, his face twisted in disgust rather than pain. He stripped down to his undershirt, using his button-down to wipe the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Some of that… goo… dripped on me. Just avoid the right side.”

She exhaled.

“C’mere, Scully, I got you.” He reached upwards, arms bare and a cheeky grin spread across his face.

She tossed him the flashlight, taking a deep breath before following him down. The combination of crumbling steps and kitten heels forced her to move a lot slower than Mulder, but at least she knew he would catch her if she fell. The warmth of his hand against her leg and then her back steadied her during her descent.

“I should have worn different shoes,” she said as she hit the bottom.

“Did you bring any?”

“Well, no.”

Mulder chuckled, and guided her by her shoulder to one side of the cavern. The flashlight couldn’t penetrate farther than five or so feet, scattering against dirt walls. Ahead of them, an ovoid tunnel about six feet high and no wider than three or four feet in diameter stretched out into the dark. She eyed the walls with trepidation, wondering at its stability. The ground was well-worn, though. And the geology in this area would be conducive to something that would be resistant to collapse.

And she just knew. Whatever the nature of its construction, the danger lie ahead of them, not above.

The creature’s pull was stronger down here, like this passage gave it strength. An escalating pulse that beckoned her forward, tying her stomach in knots. Somehow she knew how far it was down the cramped tunnel - roughly a mile. West, she surmised. To what?

“Towards the river,” Mulder whispered, their minds working in unison. “Wonder how far this goes.”

“Far,” she said.

“It must have taken him years,” Mulder said, awed. Eyes fixed forward and barely visible in the low-light.

“This is impossible, Mulder…“ Her fear settled somewhere in the back of her mind as she made rough calculations in her head. “Not even taking into account the time it would take to remove the displaced soil, of which there is no evidence, someone working 24 hours a day in ideal conditions would take at least 3 years to complete this tunnel.”

“Is this the right time to tell you I’m extremely turned on?”

She ignored him, stepping carefully on the uneven ground. “Mulder, it is physically impossible for Boyle to have done it. Someone must have started on the other side…”

“All the marks go in one direction, Scully. No, he did it. I can’t explain it. But maybe…” She glanced upwards, catching Mulder’s grimace. “Maybe he ate it?”

“Mulder.”

“No, no, think about it. If these creatures' sole purpose is to consume… what’s left after all the wildlife is gone? Cthonians are earth-dwellers. Maybe they consume the soil as they burrow.”

“I thought we were talking about Boyle.”

“You saw how he kept sucking on his fingers. Maybe… maybe they use him as a vessel. It works through him. Gives him supernatural strength as well as other gifts.”

Scully huffed. “I don’t know if he’d call them gifts.”

“Either way, I don’t think Eisenhower will be able to utilize this method for his highway project.”

They continued in silence, the awe of witnessing such a construction fading as they progressed into the darkness. Behind her, Mulder directed the flashlight downwards so they could avoid falling over rocks and loose soil. Their pursuit encompassed the bubble of light five feet around them, like they were standing still. The tunnel pressed down upon them, entombing them in dirt and darkness, and an eerie silence just as suffocating. What drove her forward, and therefore both of them, was that instinctive feeling inside of her, the thrum that pulled her inevitably towards the creature. Step by step, they drew nearer.

To what? Surely, they’d faced worse.

Worse. The monotony of their surroundings and her simmering dread forced her mind back to memories she would sooner forget.

Back to the hallways of the abandoned hospital. Was she stepping over uneven dirt, or was it a mound of broken ceiling tile? Methodical scratches and scrapes of Boyle’s fingers into the dirt, or the frenetic scrawl of multicolored graffiti? Thankfully, in her present situation, Mulder was beside her in their chase, instead of the reason she forged ahead. With his steady breaths, the warmth of his hand pressing against the small of her back, she could handle anything.

After several minutes of cautious progress, the humid, earthy air shifted. A draft flowed towards them, not cool and refreshing, but frigid. Their breath tore from their lungs with each exhale. With the breeze came that same rotting, fetid odor they smelled last night.

The dark brown soil transitioned into a lighter composite of limestone and clay. Chiseled into these harder surfaces, the unmistakable marks of Boyle’s fingers. Dark streaks where he bled as he dug. She shuddered.

They pressed on. Scully held a hand to her nose to cover the smell, but it only grew stronger as they progressed. So did the lure of the creature. She was tethered to an unknown force, malevolent and unnatural, and it took all of her will to resist the urge to run forwards at full speed.

It wanted her to follow. Beckoned with a sickening grip. She should run as fast as she could in the opposite direction, dragging Mulder with her. But she couldn’t. She had to go forward, despite her reservations. Despite her fears. Knowing that this is what it wanted. She needed answers and she needed to help Boyle. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late.

Mulder pulled on her hand, and shone his light on the wall next to them. Gouged into the rocky surface was some sort of inscription, the same script as the symbol etched above Boyle’s front door. Like its match, it hurt to look at, the text itself a weapon.

“I recognize it.” Mulder reached out to run a hand over the etchings.

“Don’t touch it!” she warned. It was offensive, wrong.

Mulder looked back, pulling his hand away as though he’d been about to burn his fingers. Maybe it would have. He searched her face, then turned back to the wall, holding her hand instead.

“I don’t… know if I can translate it. Something about a… door?” He shook his head, and handed her the flashlight before retrieving a notebook and pen from his back pocket.

Scully aimed the light down the tunnel, towards darkness and the unknown. Towards the pulsating command that issued from somewhere down there. “I don’t think we have time.”

Come…

She surged ahead without him, driven towards the creature. After only a few feet, Mulder caught up with her, his hand clasping her shoulder and keeping in step with her faster pace. He muttered something, but her focus was into the silent darkness beyond.

Their path became rockier and more treacherous as they advanced. A natural cavern, the ground littered with sharp rocks and the occasional deep chasm that they had to avoid. Not large enough to fall into, but a twisted ankle, down here, would be almost as deadly.

They slowed, the ground slick with something she couldn’t see or feel, reminding her of a rocky shoreline at low tide. She held onto Mulder’s arm to steady herself, although he didn’t seem to be affected by it. Was it his determination that kept him on his feet, or was she experiencing some sort of psychosomatic effect of the fear that was welling up within her? Or, God forbid, was she experiencing something as real as the stone and dirt surrounding them? The visions that only she could see?

Then the tunnel began to twist upon itself, a chaotic meandering that made no sense. Her brain told her that they were walking on the wall and ceiling, upside-down and sideways. Not possible. Not possible. Not real.

“What?” Mulder leaned towards her.

She sighed, apparently she’d been muttering the words aloud. “Just feels strange.”

“As though it’s twisting around?”

The relief she felt at their shared experience was only temporary. After traversing across the rocky ground for a few more yards, something skittered at the edge of her vision. She stopped, shone the light in its direction. Nothing except the choking darkness.

“Scully?”

“I thought… I saw something. I can’t… it’s gone.” Her voice was low and breathy, and she gulped the cold air into her lungs.

Their light flickered. Darkness intensified around them: hungry for light, drowning it. A gust of putrid air blew past, and the temperature dropped by several degrees. It was now so cold that condensation puffed from their mouths, obscuring their vision. She shivered.

Their flashlight sputtered and died.

Mulder wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, the camera bumping into her back. With no light, it would be nearly impossible to traverse the tunnel. Her imagination took over, one or both of them lying on the rocky ground, bleeding out with no hope of rescue. She turned her head, leaning into him. Willing some of his warmth to seep into her bones. Some of his courage.

He ran his hands along her trembling arms. His lips grazed the shell of her ear, whispering something she didn’t hear. Slipping her hand into her pocket, she clasped onto her rosary, slipping the warm beads between her fingers and began to pray. She prayed for her strength to return. The strength she knew she possessed, that fled the moment they’d driven up to Boyle’s house. The strength that perhaps she’d exchanged for the power to rescue Mulder, all those weeks ago.

It was worth it, and she would do it over and over. But who was she now, and could she ever be the partner that Mulder needed? The woman who stood side by side with him and fought the darkness with a straight back and steady heart?

She felt her throat close with the threat of tears. Squeezing her eyes shut, she held onto Mulder’s arms that circled around her chest. The murmuring voice intensified, pulling at her. Her nerves frayed, holding her back. She was tired, so tired, of having to do what they asked.

A thought emerged, then slipped away. She fought for it. Her nails dug into Mulder’s forearm. She bit down on her lip so hard she tasted blood.

Starbuck.

Her father called her that. His voice of reason. The steady rock in the storm. Even as a child, she wasn’t afraid. To scramble into dark places, to go against the wishes of her family and society. Damned if she’d let this creature, or herself, get in the way of that now.

Calm settled over her. She felt her terror, but it was muffled. It was cold, but it didn’t bother her. Even the smell faded, and became tolerable. Like she was back in the morgue, scalpel at the ready. In control once again.

And… there was no voice. No interminable pull.

The light flickered back on, blazing a steady path for them over treacherous terrain.

After squeezing Mulder’s arms and placing a quick kiss on his palm, she stepped forward, her rosary wrapped around her wrist.

“Let’s go,” she said.

They moved more quickly, their progress hastened by her newfound confidence. She could no longer sense how far they needed to go, but thankfully, it wasn’t far.

Mulder exhaled sharply and his hand tightened on her waist. A pale green glow. So faint it seemed miles away, and yet in this inky darkness distance was impossible to determine.

“Tell me what you see,” he whispered.

“Same as you.”

“How do you know?”

“Fair point.” She nodded. “The same color as last night. Pulsing in and out.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

“Want to go closer?”

She turned to face him, lighting them from below. The effect would have been spooky in most other circumstances, but seeing his familiar face and gentle eyes added to her determination. What were they doing here if not to reach the end? He was giving her an out, a last chance to turn away, and she loved him even more for it. But there was no turning back now.

She smiled, then clicked off the light. “Step carefully.”

She took out her switchblade, flicking it open. Behind her, Mulder had the same thought, unsheathing his belt knife with a rasp of steel against leather.

Before they knew it was there, they’d reached the end of the tunnel, its exit obscured by jagged rocky columns jutting from the walls. The passage opened up into a huge underground cavern, swathed in greenish light, craggy damp walls stretching out into darkness. Stalactites hung like dripping fangs, shadows clinging to the ceiling far above. A treacherous floor with shadowy pits and stalagmites jutted upwards to meet their mates.

This place reminded her of a trip she’d taken with her father and brothers when she was nine years old. She was not the youngest, but the smallest. And had crawled into the most cramped places, searching for undiscovered treasures. Her brother Charlie getting lost and hurt cut their adventure short, and they never returned.

In the midst of the natural beauty, something unnatural made its home. In the center of the room a throne of deadly sharp stalagmites stretched into the limestone drapery above. Upon it, massive tentacles choked the rocky pillars, unmoving except for the occasional shiver along its slick semi-transparent skin. Glistening mucus seeped from its rubbery flesh, coating the rocks below it.

Drip… drip… drip…

They wedged themselves against the wall, out of sight of the creature. Scrambling against the rock, she grasped his hand. The air, sick with decay, felt heavy and electric.

“I see those, Scully,” he whispered.

A trace of fear flicked through Mulder’s wide eyes. She felt it, too. Her muscles tensed, causing the hair along her arms to stand on edge. But it also made her hyper-alert. It served a purpose. She wrestled with it, searching for strength and demanding that it serve her rather than the opposite.

“You believe me, now.”

“I always believe you,” he murmured, his eyes softening for a mere second before hardening again. “We need to find Boyle.”

Scully swallowed. “Those books you read didn’t happen to mention anything useful did they?”

Mulder laid his head against the stone, his silhouette back lit by the creature’s glow. His fingers danced along the lens of the camera that hung around his neck while his other hand caressed hers, his thumb moving in small circles over her knuckles. It did little to settle her racing heart.

“The light. It doesn’t like the light.”

She hefted the flashlight doubtfully. Kneeling before her, his eyes flashed with something dangerous: an idea. Something reckless and stupid and liable to get himself hurt. Her heart sank.

“I’ll create a distraction,” he said. She stifled a groan. “I saw something on the other side of the cave, some sort of globe. Glowing faintly. It might be the key. You move towards it and hopefully it won’t notice you.”

“Mulder, no.” The roiling in her belly returned, and she swallowed thickly. “Even if you manage to keep from getting hurt, what am I supposed to do? I-I don’t know what to look for.”

Once again, regret pierced her heart. An acute reminder that she was wholly unprepared for what lay ahead.

“You think I’m going to let some tentacle monster stand in the way of figuring this out? You gotta trust in yourself, honey. I’ll be fine.” He kissed the back of her hands and stood. She held onto him, locking her fingers around his own.

“I don’t appreciate your faith in me at this particular moment,” she muttered, though his words had the ring of truth. “You might piss it off. Mulder, I can’t do this without--”

Pulling her against him, he crushed his lips against hers. Before she could react, he pulled away, giving her one last crooked, devastating smile before extracting his hand from her tight grip. Instead of taking the flashlight that she held protectively at her side, he slid the camera from around his neck and aimed it forward.

The rock scraped her hands as she grasped it, watching Mulder move surreptitiously between stalagmites. They were too small to conceal his large frame. The creature would notice.

Her breath hitched. That was the point.

He only moved about ten feet when sudden movement drew her gaze to the center of the room. Three tentacles rose into the air, wriggling violently in the direction that Mulder now crouched. He hadn’t seen it. He was looking for his next spot to hide.

Her cry of alarm was lost in the crash of the tentacles slamming down near him, smashing a stalagmite into rubble.

Her heart dropped. No. No no no… Then the dust settled, and she saw the flash of the camera, several feet away from where he’d almost been crushed. A horrid sound came from the center mass of writhing tentacles, a high-pitched cacophony like no creature or noise she’d ever heard in her life.

Mulder continued to sprint away from her, ducking behind boulders and rocks, with the tentacles trailing him. Five, no six now joined the chase. She wouldn’t let his risk be for naught. The flash of his camera caused the creature to recoil, but as she surmised, it only grew more violent with each furtive burst of white light.

She stepped out of her shoes and took two deep breaths before entering the room.

The noise the creature made masked the clattering of stone under her feet as she scrambled towards the other side of the chamber. With every crash and terrible scream, her heart warred with her mind. She longed to rush over to where Mulder was, to assure herself that he was okay. To stand by his side and fight this thing together.

Instead, she kept moving forward, placing her trust in Mulder’s plan. In Mulder’s faith in her.

Peering out from behind a boulder, the flash of Mulder’s camera caught the edge of something smooth. Where Mulder directed her to go. The orb. About fifty feet away nestled into a cupped palm of rock. Having a target instead of a direction narrowed her focus. She hopped between rocky shelters, tuning out Mulder’s shouts and the ongoing chase on the opposite side of the cave. If she got to the orb, maybe she could stop it. It was their only chance.

Drip… drip… drip…

Something held her in place. Bands of invisible tethers. Her mind turned to mist.

There was no crumble of rock, no shouting or screaming. Only the flash of Mulder’s camera, frantic and searching. She turned her head.

It saw her. Above and along the ground, it watched with eyeless appendages. Pulsing green veins thumped in sync with her hammering heart. A memory tickled the back of her brain, of her brother Bill holding a captive insect, watching it under a magnifying glass. Tearing its wings--

“SCULLY!”

She shook her head and dove to the side, as the tentacles crashed down where she’d once stood. Crumbled dust flew against her skin. Her hands burned as she landed.

A terrible screech echoed through the chamber. Scully scrambled up and ran, unsure if it was in the right direction. Desperation guided her now. The rocks cut her feet, but the adrenaline surging through her veins made it easy to ignore the pain. She tried to turn on her flashlight, but her sweat-slicked hands slipped on the switch. She couldn't run like Mulder. It would only be a matter of time before—

“HEY! SQUIDFACE!”

The screaming broke off. Mulder had taken advantage of the creature’s distraction. He now stood about fifteen feet from her, hoisting the orb in the air with a triumphant expression on his face. Her lungs burned. Sinking against the base of a large boulder, she sucked air into her lungs, hoping at least for a momentary reprieve. Switching on her flashlight, she aimed it at Mulder.

The orb he held aloft was about the size of a child-sized basketball. Flashes of greenish-blue floated underneath the delicate-looking shell. A trail of greenish-blue light, littered with dancing dust particles, connected the object to the creature.

Mulder’s eyes glinted triumphantly, before he spiked the object to the ground with all of his strength. It landed with a hollow thunk onto rocky ground instead of the shatter she expected.

UAAAHHHGHHHHHH--

The creature’s yell pierced into her head. Some terrible language that hurt to hear. She covered her ears, squeezed her eyes shut. Prayed that this would be its end, not theirs.

But then, laughter. A familiar rasping voice. She twisted around the rock and watched as the tentacles trembled. Beyond them, from the twisted throne, rose the body of Boyle. The ghostly trunks of the tentacles manifested from the center of his chest, solidifying into the slippery appendages that coiled around him. Four of them acted as legs, holding him aloft. The rest spread around him, a mane of glowing, slithering limbs.

Boyle grinned, his maw a cavern of pointed teeth and impossible darkness. Glowing yellow eyes stared behind her.

She spun around. Mulder’s face twisted in shock. “Oh, sh--”

He raised his arms to cover his head… and then he was gone. A wall of rock and tentacle swept down in a terrible crash where he’d stood. What remained afterwards was only a cloud of dust.

“Mulder!”

She ran for him: heedless of the creature’s laughter building around her, of the sting of cuts on the soles of her feet, of the tentacles that writhed along the ground like snakes but did not touch her. He looked like a boulder himself, covered in dust and debris. But something soft and rounded instead of spiked with calciferous deposits. Kneeling beside him, she reached a hesitant hand towards his unmoving form.

The dust cracked. Her very own Thinker appearing from a marble slab, rocky mounds became his arms. His face emerged, eyes wide and clear in his dusty face. A ghost of a smile. Death defeated once again. She exhaled.

Then, his gaze widened in fear, fixed upon something behind her.

The rest of the world came back into focus. The laughing had stopped. Tentacles advanced, hesitant. Curious, almost. Held at bay by the beam of light she shone at them.

She turned.

Boyle, no not Boyle, the creature floated five feet from her, head cocked. His face split into a triumphant grimace. Rotting breath making her gag. Despite the terror that welled up, the instinct to flee, she pulled herself up to her full height, standing between the creature and Mulder.

It laughed again, a bubbling crackle that increased in pitch and volume. High-pitched and low, smooth and grumbling. What they faced today was not just one creature, but the manifestation of something joined together. She winced. Aimed her light directly in their face.

The creature recoiled but continued to laugh. In her periphery she saw tendrils inching closer, moving behind to reach—

“Leave us alone!” she yelled.

“You. Cannot. Stop. What. Has. Already. Begun,” it said, pronouncing each word with a different voice, yet all belonging to the thing she once knew as Boyle. Discordant and horrendous. She glared at it, as if sheer will alone could withstand the onslaught. Her hand trembled, and the beam of light wavered.

Boyle leaned forward and the flashlight sputtered out.

Lit only by the greenish glow emanating from the tentacles and Boyle’s yellow eyes, the rest of the world sunk into darkness. Somewhere within her, she felt her courage waning. She stood between the creature and Mulder, not knowing how injured he was, not knowing how much longer she could protect him, and yet she remained. She had to.

The creature’s sneer widened into a crooked grin that went from ear to ear, splitting its face in half. She felt a tentacle caress her ankle, and another along her arm.

A smooth sphere, almost too large to fit into her palm, was placed into her hand. Mulder.

She squeezed it. Boyle’s grin faltered.

Holding it in front of her, she ran her hands along the slick surface. It reminded her of a spherical egg shell, and yet it remained whole and undamaged. She shook it, and felt a liquid sloshing around inside. When she held it up the surface shimmered, and Boyle backed away, the tentacles retreating. Inside of it, deep green and blue wisps churned like violent eddies.

“You’re not happy that I have this, are you?” she said, her voice steady despite her terror and uncertainty. If Mulder couldn’t break it, she had no hope of doing so. Her hands glided across the surface. Perhaps they could make their escape, come back once they knew what to do with it?

She felt Mulder stand up behind her, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. “Don’t think, Scully.”

She shook her head.

“Y'ai 'syha'h. Y'ai 'ph'nglui,” the creature chanted. “We shall consume all, we shall have all.”

The creature resumed its monstrous laughter. The darkness closed in and the chill returned, like they’d been transported to the bottom of the ocean. Gooseflesh rose on her skin, raising the hair on her arms. Fear needled down her spine.

Yet, Mulder’s breath warmed the back of her neck. His hands cupped her shoulders. Leaning backwards, she pressed into him. He was real - standing behind her in this terrible place. His faith in her was real. For once, she needed to take that leap of faith with him. She needed to trust herself.

For a brief second, she existed in that liminal space between doubt and action. She saw her future if she waited. Death and darkness. So, she let go. It was easy, after it was done. Simple.

Pure energy welled up inside her, threatening to break the shell of her fragile body. It hurt. Burned. And yet… she knew what to do. Knew that she could save them.

Her eyes, squeezed shut in concentration, opened. The creature had backed away, its mouth turned downwards and all of its appendages hanging limp at its side.

“You can’t have us!” she shouted. And whatever light, whatever energy, that pooled inside of her flew along her arms and into the orb, crackling like electricity.

The creature's eyes widened. Yellow and green drowned out by brilliant white.

CRAAACK!

Fine lines splintered along the orb’s delicate surface. It was ripped from her hands, knocking her and Mulder backwards against the rocks. She landed atop him, her breath knocked from her lungs. Cold replaced burning heat. Fuzziness crowded in at the edge of her consciousness.

The last thing she saw, illuminated by the orb that now stood floating in the center of the room, was the creature shattering like glass, thousands of shards exploding throughout the room. Mulder covered her with his body to shelter her from the onslaught.

Then, there was nothing.

#xf fanfic #msr #alternate universe #my fic #surely to the sea #project c #historical au #au #xfiles fanfic

[natashasfilms]

Chapter Twenty-Five - Losing the Battle

Summary: Returning to Hawkins for spring break, Aria is finally glad to be back at home to see her mom and friends. However, she soon finds out that the danger they’ve all faced before, is back yet again. This time, she may or may not fall at the center of it.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Original Female Character

Warnings: This story contains mature themes such as sexual content, strong language, violence, mentions of alcohol and drugs, blood, gore, and death.

Note: I imagine Aria Kaul as South Asian but I have decided to let you, the reader, imagine her appearance, hence the reason why I have not given her a face claim. However, her race does not affect the story, whatsoever. You, as the reader, are free to imagine her however you want. If you don’t see her as South Asian, then that’s fine. It won’t affect the storyline.

Series Masterlist

They needed to find a place to hide Eleven from the government, so Aria suggested they go to Hopper’s cabin. They would have to fix up some things around the home as it was destroyed the year prior but it would be worth it.

Jonathan drove Argyle’s van deep into the woods, where Hopper’s broken cabin was. Aria looked at it for the first time since July, her heart aching in pain once again.

She watched Eleven stand still, a sorrowful look on her face. She gently put a hand on her shoulder, causing the girl to look up at her. “It’s going to be okay, El.” She reassured her, giving her a soft smile.

Eleven nodded her head, the two girls following after the group. They walked inside to see all the damage that was still there. “Oh Jesus.” Jonathan breathed out.

“Holy shit.” Mike exclaimed, looking around. “This place is a total disaster.”

“Yeah.” Jonathan answered. He looked up to see the huge hole in the ceiling. “Well, that's a bit of a problem.”

“I get we gotta hide Supergirl and all, but this isn't exactly the Fortress of Solitude, man.” Argyle stated, his eyes trailing all over the cabin. “It's more like a fortress of grodiness.”

“Guys, come on. Positive thoughts, alright?” Aria told them, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Seriously. I've seen Mike's room look worse than this.” Nancy admitted, walking over to the sink.

“Ah, brutal, dude.” Argyle responded.

Nancy turned on the tap, the water instantly running. “Ah! See? Water still works.”

Aria chuckled, looking through the cabinets to find any sort of cleaning supplies. She finally found a bunch in a box, grabbing them to set them onto a table. “And here are the cleaning supplies!”

The boys looked at her, instantly groaning. Aria glared at them, throwing mops at Will and Mike to start their job.

Aria, Nancy, and Jonathan were on window duty. They found enough wood to shield the broken windows on the outside. Aria worked on the entire back of the house while Nancy and Jonathan worked on the side.

She hammered nails into the wood, grinning when she successfully managed to put them up without any help. She put both hands on her hips, admiring her work when her eyes glanced at all the other broken windows, huffing out a breath.

She continued to hammer more wood to cover the openings, sighing in relief when she finished two more. “Take that, Byers and Wheeler. I did it all by myself.” She mumbled to herself. She was so hard at work that she didn’t even hear a car drive up, parking near the cabin.

She took another piece of wood and hammered it to the last broken window, bragging to herself about how she put up the wood so quickly alone.

She sighed in relief after she finished, putting her hands on her knees to rest. “Holy shit.” She stood up straight, walking back to the front of the house, ready to boast to the others about how she did all the work by herself when her eyes landed on a familiar face. “I just finished putting up all of the wood without any of your guys’ help and—Mom?”

Yasmin turned around to see her daughter, grinning profusely. Aria ran up to her to hug her, surprised to even see her mom here.

“I missed you! What are you doing here?” She pulled back to ask. She didn’t give her a chance to speak as her eyes landed on another face. “Joyce, hi! Wait, Joyce?” Joyce waved at her, a huge smile on her face.

Yasmin chuckled, putting her hands on her shoulders to turn her around. “There’s someone you should see.” Aria let her turn her around, the young adult’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She was going to say something when she met eyes with someone, her lips parting in shock.

Hopper stood in front of her with Eleven beside him. The younger girl let go of him to hug Joyce, while Aria stood there with wide eyes. Hopper brought his arms out, leaving Aria to wrap her arms around him tightly, letting her tears stream down her face.

The man laughed, rubbing her back as Aria was crying happily. Her vision was blurry from the tears, not being able to see clearly. She pulled back as Hopper held the sides of her face. “I told them.” She cried with a smile on her face. “I finally told them.”

Hopper gave her a warm grin, feeling so proud of her. “I knew you would. I’m so proud of you.”

She pulled back with a chuckle, wiping her tears away. She took a good look at him and saw how much he’s changed. “You’re smaller, now.” She laughed softly.

Hopper chuckled, nodding his head. “I guess I am. And you’re still short.”

Aria scoffed, punching his arm playfully. He grinned, then looked away towards the woman near the black car, giving her a nod. The woman nodded back, getting inside the car and driving away.

Aria felt a part of her slowly come back to life. She would have never thought to see this day come, where she found out Hopper was indeed alive. Even now, it felt too good to be true, like this was all just a dream.

She turned back to her mom, hugging her again. Yasmin kissed the top of her head, having missed her this past week immensely. “I didn’t think you could take a patient home with you, mom.” Aria joked.

Yasmin shook her head, laughing. “He was a special case.”

Aria looked around with a smile on her face, feeling content at the moment. Despite everything that’s happened, she was grateful to have her family back. She missed her mom so much and now she had her dad back. She didn’t want to go back to Rhode Island anymore.

However, she should’ve known that happy moments don’t last forever. She felt an odd sensation start to course throughout her body, her intuition kicking off again. She knitted her brows together as Yasmin gave her a worried look.

The girl turned her head to look at Will, who met eyes with her as he touched the back of his neck with his hand. The two turned around to look at the sky, their gazes falling on the dark clouds that were starting to spread.

Everyone noticed the looks on Aria and Will’s faces, growing concerned by their actions. Their eyes followed theirs, watching as tiny white flakes began to fall from the sky.

Aria’s breath hitched, bringing a hand out to watch the flakes fall onto her skin. She knew it wasn’t snow. It didn’t look anything like it.

The group all looked at each other, the same worry enveloping them. Hopper began to walk, leading the rest of the group out of the woods to see what was going on.

Yasmin and Joyce were behind Hopper as Aria, Eleven, Will, and Mike followed them, with Nancy and Jonathan following. They walked out of the woods and onto the open field, gazes falling onto the scene in front of them.

The odd sensation began to grow in Aria, her mouth agape at the sight before her. She stood next to Yasmin, as Will and Mike, Nancy and Jonathan, and Joyce and Hopper stood in pairs. Eleven walked further ahead alone in front of them, stopping to pick up a dead flower, before standing back up again.

They saw the smoke and red lightning ahead of them, hearts beating rapidly. Aria’s intuition was telling her about the danger lurking near, the warning increasing by the second.

Yasmin wrapped a protective arm around Aria, bringing her daughter close to her. The two women stood there in fear, knowing what was to happen.

Aria was breathing heavily, eyebrows furrowed as her eyes stayed put on the smoke and lightning.

The Upside Down was now collided with Hawkins and their lives were in danger. Aria knew that this was just the beginning, that Vecna wouldn’t stop until he finally got his revenge on the town.

It was the beginning of a war and they already lost.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington series #angst #fluff #reticent series #steve harrington x aria kaul #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic

[etenvs3000w23]

The first thing that comes to mind when I am asked where to find music in nature is birds. It may be the most obvious answer, but it's true. But I don’t think it really hit me just how true it was until a few months ago. 

Last semester I was required to take an environmental science course called “Introduction to Environmental Stewardship”. One of the most time consuming portions of this class was a project in which I had to choose a local area to conduct an inventory of. This included any biotic, abiotic, or cultural components we found during our survey. This project was very time consuming and took me multiple trips to complete. Oftentimes to get it out of the way I would take early morning walks in the trail by my house to complete my survey. I had never done this before, and what I had found astounded me. There were SO MANY bird species in my suburban trail in the early mornings, way more than I thought, and the craziest thing was I didn’t even see most of them. After I realised how difficult it was to photograph the birds for identification purposes, I realised that their songs were so distinct that there had to be a way to identify them, and I was right! I quickly discovered a revolutionary app named Merlin which changed the game for me. I was identifying birds in my area I had never even seen through music! Gray et al. (2001) said that bird songs are incredibly similar to human music, using repeated rhythms and combinations as many human composers, with many being able to produce their songs through instruments instead of their vocal tract! This didn’t surprise me, as every morning I heard similar songs being sung back and forth to individual birds in completely separate areas of the trail I was surveying. This experience enhanced the natural area I found myself in, and has changed the way I experience nature forever as every time I am out for a nature walk now I will have my phone ready to record any song I hear so I can identify it later. 

The question: where is nature in music? Is a much more complicated question to answer. Personally, I think nature is in music inherently. The oldest musical instruments ever discovered are all bone flutes that date back over 60 000 years in human history. Wind instruments, something I can imagine being created to emulate sounds made in nature by wind passing through hollow trees and rock crevices. Additionally, up until very recently most instruments were all made of materials harvested directly from the earth. Drums made of animal hide, pianos carved from ivory and wood, and of course, the natural human voice. It can be hard to remember this in our modern age of music, where anyone can produce a million different sounds with the push of a button.

Trying to choose just one song that takes me back to a natural landscape is really difficult. Music has always been associated with car rides for me, as I drove a lot with my family when I was younger and still drive by myself listening to music really consistently. But the two songs I’ve chosen bring about clear and distinct images of nature. 

First is Ontario by Novo Amor and Ed Tullet. I don’t remember where I found this song, I think it must have been on a study playlist I discovered sometime last year. The name itself evokes a sense of home for me, Ontario of course, but the song itself is incredibly abstract. Within the softly sung harmonies I can barely make out the lyrics, however, the feelings this song evokes are very much how I feel when I am alone in nature, hearing the wind pass through the trees and birds and insects sing, as well as its grandness compared to myself.

The second song I’ve chosen is Age of Man by Greta Van Fleet. This song lyrically and musically tends to remind me just how small humans are in comparison to the world. The initial lyrics “In an age of darkness light appears and it wards away the ancient fears” really cements in my mind how the only real difference between us and nature is the fact that we were able to invent flame and change the rules for ourselves. Further lines such as “To wonder lands of ice and snow in the desert heat where nothing grows” also evokes images of the cruelty of the wilderness and how hard it is to survive. And finally, the chorus, “And as we came into the clear, To find ourselves where we are here, who is the wiser to help us steer? And will we know when the end is near?” makes me feel very sombre, but also gives a sharp reminder that as custodians of this earth we are responsible for how we treat nature, and no one except ourselves can decide how to treat it.

I would love to make a Playlist of everyone's chosen songs, if I don't catch yours send me a message in my inbox or comment on this post!

Gray, Patricia M., et al. "The Music of Nature and the Nature of Music." Science, vol. 291, no. 5501, 5 Jan. 2001, p. 52. Gale Academic OneFile, link.gale.com/apps/doc/A69270354/AONE?u=guel77241&sid=bookmark-AONE&xid=fb9366a8. Accessed 13 Feb. 2023.

Neanderthal flute. NMS. (n.d.). Retrieved February 13, 2023, from https://www.nms.si/en/collections/highlights/343-Neanderthal-flute#:~:text=The%20oldest%20musical%20instrument%20in%20the%20world%2C%20a%2060%2C000%2Dyear,and%20has%20four%20pierced%20holes. 

#Spotify

[ichiwashername-o]

Black bear skull! It’s got a few more days of drying but it’s all cleaned up and whitened up after a thorough soak in hydrogen peroxide. I was waiting until it was all nice and pretty to tell you all about how I got this bad boy. He measures 11.5″ long by 6 1/8″ width, missing Pope and Young by 5/8″. Slightly salty about that but as this is my first black bear ever, he’s by absolutely no means something to scoff at. This boar measured 6′6″ from snout to tail with an arm span of 6′10″, which means he squares a very respectable 6′8″. I’m very proud to get such a beautiful bear on my first ever archery bear hunt.

So let me tell you about it!

I’ve been musing about a bear hunt for a couple years to give myself more variety from the typical whitetails I’ve been hunting. And as luck would have it, my dad found an outfitter in Manitoba, Canada that was looking for hunters and was especially accommodating for archers (not all outfitters are. In fact, some outfitters absolutely despise archers) I went with my mom and we drove up to Canada to hunt for five days, from September 19-23rd.

I can say with full confidence that hunting bears was the most fun I’ve ever had in regards to hunting. They’re just so much fun to watch! They’re not nearly as wary or skittish as deer and you can just sit and watch them at the bait for hours. I saw tons of bears! At least 5-8 per day. It really is exhilarating to see these predators up close and personal.

In fact, the very first day we drove into the tree stand and there was a small bear right there at the bait! He didn’t even run off as the outfitter drove in, he just hung around as I got into my stand. When the outfitter drove off, the bear just came right back to the bait and I got to watch him.

Yup, there’s a bear no more than twenty yards from my mom and our outfitter. He was a small lil’ guy and we weren’t worried about him being aggressive at all. He’s just wondering what those weird-looking things are doing in his woods.

The excitement didn’t stop there. Less than an hour after sitting in the stand, I saw an absolute giant walk in. He was not only the fattest bear I’ve ever seen, but he was big and bulky. Even though it was only the first hour of the very first day of hunting, I knew I couldn’t pass on him. So I grabbed my bow, heart racing and hands shaking, and I take a shot.

I whiff.

I absolutely whiff.

My arrow goes right under him and he runs off. I couldn’t believe it. I had him at a perfect broadside 20 yard shot and I miss by a mile. I couldn’t be more frustrated with myself! How could I miss!

But that’s hunting. You get nervous, you get excited, and you make mistakes. And that mistake means I totally missed out on a monster bear. But you need to learn from such mistakes so you don’t make them again.

The rest of the trip is much more exciting. I see tons of bears, mostly all smaller ones, and even a few color phases, what hunters call a chocolate-phase bear. He was still very small, so I just enjoyed watching him.

Absolutely lost in the sauce.

On Tuesday was when the action really kicked into gear. I had another full day of watching bears come in (no shooters) and at dusk I can hear our guide driving in with his ATV. I know he’s going to pick up my mom first, and then me, so I patiently wait to get picked up. As I’m waiting, I hear the unmistakable sound of a gun going off.

What happened? Did a bear charge them? I try not to let my imagination get the better of me and just wait, because I trust the guide to handle whatever happened. Soon enough the guide comes and picks me up and I ask about the gunshot. Turns out, just ten minutes before dark, my mom shot an absolute giant bear. The guide arrived to pick her up and they went right on the trail to track it down. Unfortunately, they went after it too fast and didn’t give the bear time to lay down and expire, so they walked right up to a grievously wounded monster of a bear. The bear charged, the guide took out his shotgun and blasted it with buckshot, and the bear fell to the ground. The guide grabbed my mom and hightailed it out of the woods and drove straight to me to pick me up.

We got out of the woods and the guide weighed his options. Go back in there, when it’s pitch-dark to get the bear, or wait until morning? It was raining, which meant the blood trail will wash away overnight, but he knew exactly where that bear had dropped when he shot it. Ultimately, safety won (as it very well should) and he decided to retrieve it in the morning. He was not worried about the bear spoiling overnight, and it would give it more than enough time to expire.

The next day, we all set out, with the guide dropping me off in my stand to hunt and then off to track down my mom’s bear. They had no trouble finding it, as it was right where they left it last night. And now my mom can proudly bag her very first bear, a 406 lb, 7′8″ giant!

Now it was my turn!

Thursday, my guide takes me to a different tree stand where he knows there’s plenty of big bears. The hunt is ending soon so I know that I can’t be overly picky: the first decent bear I see, I should shoot. But most important of all, I need to make sure that if I take a bear, it’s something I’ll be happy with. I know it’s unreasonable to expect to get another giant, but I won’t settle for a small one.

My patience is finally rewarded. At around 6:30 Thursday evening, I see a very beautiful bear walk in, and he’s showing all the signs of being a shooter. Good height, good mass, with good distance between his ears. And after enough time just watching bears, you can tell how big a bear is in just the way they move. Small bears have light steps with a spring to them, almost like they’re bouncing, but bigger bears move much slower and more deliberately, with heavy lumbering steps. And this guy was definitely a big bear.

The hardest part was waiting for just the right shot. Bears will spend all the time in the world feasting at the bait, so patience was crucial. I could not afford to rush. I learned my lesson day 1: I had to be patient. I had to wait for the right moment. I had to wait for the bear to give me a perfect shot. Nothing less would do. I refused to wound a bear.

After 20 agonizing minutes of watching him wander around the bait, I finally had my shot. 20 yards, near-perfect broadside shot. I take my time to line up my sot, I make sure everything is perfect, and I release.

The shot looked perfect and the bear takes off. I track where he runs as far as I can see, but to my horror, I see my arrow right at the bait! Did I miss again?! There’s no way I missed again! Even though you should never leave the tree stand, I had to see the shot for myself. I got down the tree and look at the arrow, fearing the worst.

My arrow is covered in blood from tip to tip. My arrow passed clean through him! I’ve never been able to manage that before. And to get a clean pass-through on a bear ensures our best chances of a successful blood trail. I go back to the stand and text my guide that I shot a bear. 30 minutes later, he arrives on his ATV and we begin to trail.

There’s less blood than I hoped, but bear fur is so thick it tends to absorb a lot of it. Our guide didn’t seem to have much trouble following it, and we do pas some very promising splatters. After about 100 yards of trailing (which feels like forever) he stops and sighs sadly.

“I dunno, Ichi,” he tells me mournfully. “We’ve been following this bear for quite a while.”

My heart sinks. Did he not think the bear was dead yet and we should come back later? Was my shot not as good as I thought? Did he lose the trail? And as I always do, I fear the worst.

I fear I lost my bear.

“Yeah, the blood trail just ends right here--and there’s a dead bear right over there--”

And there he is. My bear. Dead on the ground, not ten feet away.

“You asshole!” I laugh, but soon we’re all hugging and laughing and congratulating each other on a hunt well done. I got my very first black bear! And he was everything I hoped he would be. He has a beautiful coat, and was a very respectable size, especially for a first-time archery hunter. He doesn’t make it into the record book, but it was a very memorable hunt regardless.

I couldn’t be more thankful. And I’ll be certain to pursue more bears in the future!

#ichi hunts #hunting #archery #archery hunting #bear #black bear #tw: animal death #tw: dead animal

[avian-writes]

"Used Tombstone for Sale. One Only."

Putting classified ads in the newspaper was both easier and more difficult than I expected. Easy to walk into the office, fill out the paper given to me, and hand over the appropriate amount of money. Difficult to ignore the looks the clerk woman gave me as I hobbled in on my own and at what I requested.

But I suppose they had a rule against asking too many questions, lest they insult the people who essentially pay their wages. So she took my ad request and money and told me it’d run for the following week. Hopefully one week was all I’d need. Short as the ad was, it took what coins I had left.

Outside the bystander office, my pink and white bike was thankfully still where I left it tied with frayed rope to a lamp post. One of the training wheels was stuck on a crack in the curb and I struggled to yank it loose.

The sun was still rising as I peddled and peddled down Main St, taking the long way to avoid Mulkey Road. It’d already been 5 weeks since, but I just couldn’t bring myself to go anywhere near the road sign, much less take a stroll down. Even if it added 10 extra minutes to my pumping legs commute.

The back road past Main St was still in a somber mood. Doors stay closed and windows locked. Gates were chained and flower boxes sat empty to collect rainwater. Not a hint or hue of color to be seen as I biked past the houses. Somehow even the painted wood dulled in the time passed.

My silent home sat near the end of the road. The smallest, but with the most land. Enough for my father’s workshop in clear view of the neighborhood. A workshop that was bigger than the actual house: a simple one bedroom home with a small kitchen and living room combo. My father always insisted the bedroom belonged to me, even if I usually ended up sleeping on the pull out couch with him.

A pull out couch that was still out and messed up. I hadn’t found any reason to make it up or put it away. And despite the fact that all I’d done that morning was go downtown, I was exhausted. The residual heat inside was already dwindling, chill rubbing into my bones.

Creaky springs from years too long of a life under faded cushions. Wrapping myself up in the red knit blanket, scratching at my chipped blue nail polish, and shutting my eyes.

It was a few days before I got a bite. A few days of nothing but sleeping and heating up cans of soup on the stove, not going anywhere else except shuffling back and forth between the couch and kitchen. A trail of scattered dust wove from the couch cushions to the front of the stove.

Somehow the phone hadn’t been cut off yet, and the loud ring jostled me from a nightmare of red stained concrete. “Hello?”

“I’m calling about the ad in the paper? For the- the t-tombstone?”

I bolted up, getting tangled in my blankets in the process. “Yes! Yes. That’s me. I mean- you’re interested?”

“I am. How- how much is the asking price?”

“Oh, um.” Damn it. I hadn’t even thought about that. No amount of money would keep me in the house indefinitely, and I had just enough food left until the end of the month when the late payments would finally collapse on me. “Eight hundred?”

“E-even though it’s used?”

“Well, it is a very nice tombstone. Black granite and doves engraved in the corners. No chips, scratches, or anything like that.” I took very good care of it.

The buyer was a young person, which I was grateful for. Young burying the old was the best way to go and I don’t think I could’ve choked down taking eight hundred dollars from some poor parent or grandparent who lost their child. No matter how much I needed it.

Around 30 years old and shaking feverishly as soon as she stepped out of the car. The buyer drove an old red Camaro with a dented bumper and one missing rearview mirror. A long riding trailer was hooked to its hitch.

Average height with plain clothes. Long blonde hair pulled into a twisted braid that I thankfully saw through the living room window. I briefly braided my own crinkling hair and stared at myself in the mirror.

It would do well enough.

The buyer saw the tombstone waiting in the front yard and stumbled on the walkway. I sucked in a breath and waited, but she quickly collected herself. I had given simple but important instructions that I watched her follow from the safety of my home.

The money was placed in an envelope that she took from a crossbody bag and dropped delicately on the front stoop. The tombstone was already on a pad of felt that she took hold of and easily dragged it across the unruly grass and onto the trailer.

She was sweating by the time it was safely on, but I could see hints of muscle working away under her shirt sleeves. She latched up the small gate on the back of the trailer, hopped in the car, and with one last fleeting glance at my home, sped away with the tombstone.

I waited until she was just down the road before exiting. My bike was ready, the rusty wire basket’s contents hidden under a dish towel. The chain squealed when I initially pushed it out of the grass and onto the road, but once I got it turning it cracked enough to not fall apart.

The funeral parlor, the only one within 50 miles, wasn’t too far into town. Thanks to the minimal speed limits, I was able to catch up to the buyer fairly quickly. Even with my ankle getting knocked by the revolving petal every other wheel spin, the tombstone on the trailer slowed down her Camaro enough.

The buyer stopped outside the funeral parlor and walked inside. I waited across the road, hidden by large, ornamental bushes. I watched as the undertaker and his assistant came out with the buyer withering away behind them. The assistant took the buyer’s car and the undertaker and buyer got into the waiting hearse around the side.

They all left in a shortened processional and I dutifully joined. I peddled and peddled, my knees growing weary the farther the hearse went. Canned beans and salsa on stale bread was proving to be a poor diet to do so much exercise on. I had been too cowardly to confront the buyer in person and ask the location of the funeral and this was my punishment.

Finally, a reprieve. The hearse turned off the main road onto a gravel path leading towards. It slowed to a crawl, the tires crunching over the small rocks as it headed through a large iron gate.

I hopped off my bike, my bones cracking from the soreness built up, but kept pushing on after it with my bike in tow. It was a cemetery, not a graveyard thankfully, dug into the side of a hill downspout from the forest surrounding town. The gravel path curved down and to the left to the bottom of the hill where a small group of people had already gathered.

The hearse stopped and so did I. Hidden in the shadows of the forest, I watched the buyer get out of the car and solemnly walk to the group of mourners who accepted her with open, teary arms. They climbed the hill to a marked plot while the undertaker began to extract the casket from the hearse.

The mourners were a small handful of people. A few women had hand fans that cracked as they were thrust open. A man in a bowler hat stood over the casket with a reserved face, save the clear discontent upon seeing the tombstone.

Only the buyer showed any real emotion. Remorse for the small affair. Sorrow for her loss. Gratitude for the warm bodies, however reclused they were, surrounding her. Somber for the distasteful weather the funeral had to be held in. Disdain at the mismatched tombstone to the body that now was being nudged into the soil.

I listened to the typical words: short prayers and generic stories, some that weren’t even true but who was going to fact check? Compliments and farewell wishes. Nothing bad was said. Nothing a true testament to his true character, whatever it was. No one ever spoke ill about the dead until the grave was out of sight and alcohol was in their system.

No flowers were thrown on the casket before it was covered up. No further tears were shed. All attendants shuffled away and down the hill, thankfully not in my direction. Back towards the gate.

The undertaker and his assistant shook the buyer’s hand before taking the hearse away. She turned her head to the sky, staring into the bleak overcast. It was almost melancholy, the picturesque scene before me on the hill.

The buyer carefully stepped down the hill, the freshly cut grass still attacking her legs.

I took her place

I could see it. The tombstone was at the head of the freshly filled grave. Beautiful flowers already adorned the soil and I knelt to brush some aside to read the inscription.

Edward Dalca

Beloved father

I thought about what the undertaker had told the buyer. It would be a few days before he could change the words. It was eerie and a bit haunting to think that the people who had just grieved a complete stranger had done so to my father’s name.

I took my little trowel from my bike’s basket and started to dig. 

Somewhere nearby, I could hear a scream that was cut off by a gasp for breath. I guess the buyer either hadn’t gotten far or was coming back to say another goodbye farewell see you later.

Hurried footsteps behind me, sharp nails digging into my shoulders and she yanked back. Screaming in my face, obscenities that would make the paperboy blush. None of which I think I heard. I was too focused on the grave behind her.

He’d been buried shallow, the buyer’s great uncle. That and with even my sad excuse for a shovel, I had gotten to the body before the buyer found me.

I leapt forward and shoved her; she was too busy yelling at the corpse to notice my sudden movement.

My trowel cut into everything. Dirt, rocks, bones, flesh. Mixing fresh and old blood into the deathly soil, fertilizing it like a macabre gardening project. On the edge of the cemetery while the screams of the buyer were quickly snuffed out by chokes and desperate pleas for relief.

My necklace came free during all this. My name, Nyssa Dalca, was spelled out in shiny white beads amongst polished smooth stones. Granite and limestone. The same many of the tombstones surrounding us were made from.

Finally, the sounds died down and the buyer stayed put in the shallow grave. I wiped off my trowel against the exposed casket and the buyer’s shirt and swept the upheaved dirt on top. Patting down the grave flat like burying a box containing your first deceased childhood pet. That, as a child you don’t realize, doesn’t like its claws being painted blue.

Standing up, I pulled my blonde hair into a twisted braid; picking up a stick from the forest floor to stab right through the unfamiliar strands, keeping it in place. I was still a bit hungry from my meager breakfast, and according to the undertaker’s assistant, there was a dinner being held at the diner nearby.

Selling my father’s tombstone hurt initially, but his journal and final letter to me was clear it needed to be done. I write this, my first account, to compare to his. He made a living for a good 76 years and, in his letter, assured me I could do the same.

Leaving me so young wasn’t part of the plan, and I have no idea what I’m going to do next, but at least with these muscles I can get started in his workshop. Another tombstone will need to be made.

#writeblr #short story #gothic horror #horror #original writing #fiction #avian writes

[fleurcareil]

Northwest Ontario: 2nd time's a charm

The route from Winnipeg into Ontario and eastward to Espanola is the only section of my trip that I've driven back & forth on the same road (apart from the Kenora-Thunder Bay stretch where I did take a different way back) as the rest of the 20k drive has really been one big loop across the country, hence 2nd time's a charm! 😀 Having assumed that the weather would be worse in September, I had taken my time going west, camping in beautiful provincial & national parks, so check out those earlier posts to see the full beauty of this region. Now on the way back, I tried to see a few new places and/or revisited some of my favourite spots.

It felt really good to see the Welcome to Ontario sign, as it meant I was heading home... all provinces have their own charm, but Ontario I know best, so that will always remain "my place".

Staying in Kenora for the night, I had contemplated to go see the sunset over Lake of the Woods, but instead I just stayed at the motel trying to fix the pump hose for hopefully a few more paddles. 🤞

In the morning, I took the highway south to Fort Frances, which is an hour longer to Thunder Bay then east to Dryden but has the benefit of not having any trucks. The road is curvy & hilly so that means it's difficult to bypass slow drivers, but I had it mostly to myself to take in the beautiful Canadian Shield and all the lakes - Ontario at its best! 😍

At Sioux Narrows provincial park, I did a small hike up a viewpoint of Regina Bay, the most eastern arm of Lake of the Woods. This was one of those viewpoints where the trees are blocking most of the view 😂 but it felt good anyway to be in the fresh-smelling forest. I surprised a deer that was on the trail nibbling at tree branches so that reminded me that I needed to make some noise from time to time - I was still in bear country after all!,

A bit further south, I had a nice 1.5hr paddle at Caliper Lake provincial park along the shoreline and around a little island. I usually start paddling against the wind to make life easier on the way back, however I had misinterpreted how the wind was being deflected around a hill, so suddenly it did a 180 on me and I got the wind against me also on the way back! 😆 less relaxing than I had envisaged!

Fort Frances is the main town in this corner of Ontario, sharing a river as border with the US similar to Niagara Falls. I had thought of breaking for lunch here, but the waterfront did not really appeal to me, so I drove on and stopped instead at a viewpoint of Rainy Lake, another one of those massive lakes.

For the night, I stopped at a motel in the middle of nowhere 😁 midway to Thunder Bay, where the owner had made pretty flower gardens out of reclaimed wood. Living in Toronto, I had always thought that Kenora and Thunder Bay were kinda in the same neighbourhood "out there", whereas in reality they are over 500km apart, so I was glad to split the drive in two! As a bonus, the motel was across the road from a beautiful lake so happy to sit in a chair taking in the last sun rays of the day. 🥰

In the morning the water was still calm, so I used the motel's dock to launch my SUP and went for a great paddle around several little islands. For me, this is as close to paradise as it gets; blue water, blue sky and some little rocky islands with trees in between them 💖💖

After leaving the motel, it was only a short drive to Quetico provincial park, famed for its backcountry wilderness canoeing... something I was clearly not going to do now, but I still wanted to get a sense of what it looked like. Did a small hike around a swamp which was nothing special, so sat for a bit on a rock overlooking the lake and empty beach... travelling after Labour Day is sooo nice as the crowds disappear and calmness returns. 😍 There was a whole flock of larger brown birds walking around, which looked a bit like grouse but those tend to stay in the trees, so at the visitor centre they told me they were partridges!

After Quetico, it was another 3-hour drive to my motel in Nipigon, and adding the final hour of time difference made the day go by fast! In total, I've had eleven time-changes during this trip (+1-1+1+0.5 from Ontario via New Brunswick & Quebec to Labrador, -1.5 back to Quebec, then -1-1-1 to BC, and finally +1+1+1 to Ontario), all in the same country! 😄

Just before getting to Nipigon, I had a quick stop at the Red Rock marina, where the view of steep hills was pretty enough, but the redness of the rock was masked by vegetation 😅. The scenery in this area is very pretty though, and the next day I really enjoyed the drive out of town - there's not many rest places along the highway to take pics from but hopefully you get the jest!

I had wanted to revisit Neys provincial park to hike up a hill to an overlook of a famous Lawren Harris painting of Pic Island, but I had been slow to leave in the morning, first sorting out things online and then waiting for my car to get an oil service. So instead, I repeated a small hike to a rocky point with a stunning view of the lake and sat there (in my coat & headband for the wind) for a while, chatting with a few friends online.

All through Canada some of my best cell phone reception was either on top of a hill or on a rocky outcrop (basically anywhere without trees) so I often would sit there to read email, research things online and chat with friends & family. 😂 It hadn't really bothered me to have poor/no reception for most of the time (sometimes for days on end), but now I was going home there was a lot to sort out, so it became more frustrating.

Staying that night in an airbnb without kitchen, I prepped a salad on the beach's picknick table, and then made my way over to Marathon for some cozy streaming of the Amazing Race while lying in bed 😊, a definite advantage of staying in a building rather than a tent! In the morning, I quickly checked out Marathon's Jellicoe Cove, which is undoubtedly a great place to be on the water in high summer.

Just south of Marathon, I also revisited Pukaskwa national park, which was as stunning as on the way up. It was much greyer now though, so check out the pics from my previous post to truly appreciate its beauty. I redid the Southern Headland Trail and then added the Manito Mikana trail which I hadn't had time for previously... the little islands, the vast water expanse, the beach... all pretty and with starting fall colour changes! 😍

Temperatures were less fun; 4 degrees in the morning and only warming up to 8-12 degrees in the afternoon, so after a cold day, I got myself in Wawa a chicken noodle soup & yam fries to warm me up! Arriving early at my cabin, the same where I had stayed years ago on a Thanksgiving trip up here, I cranked up the heat and snuggled in front of the tv. 😊

Next day, I hiked the Nokomis trail in the northern part of the Lake Superior provincial park, which has stunning views of the surrounding forest and of Old Woman Bay...which I had a harder time to see as I was stung by two wasps on the way up! 😫 Stopping to take off my sweater, they suddenly stung me on the arm and eyebrow before I even realized what happened. I picked up my stuff and ran away 😅. Not surprisingly, my entire eye got swollen so once I was back down, I took some rest on the beach before hitting the road again. Au, it hurt!! 😮

Driving went ok but it was very tiring, so I had another break at the lovely beach of Pancake Bay provincial park to eat something and soak up the sun with my eyes closed. I was surprised that Lake Superior has such large sandy beaches as most of the shoreline consists of Canadian Shield rocks... they are a bit out of the way for city folks from Toronto 😉 but great places for locals from Sault Ste Marie!

In that town, I spent some time getting ready for the next phase of leaving Canada; I washed my car so that it's a little more presentable 😅 (got also a deep-clean booked to get rid of all the sand) and spent my remaining gift cards and Shoppers points... don't want to lose any freebees! 😄

Checking in at the motel in Thessalon, I was relieved to be able to sit and not get up for a while... If we all could see such a sunset each day, the world would be a more peaceful place! 😍🥰

Wildlife: 1 deer at Sioux Narrows, 15 partridges at Quetico, 1 partridge at Pukaskwa, 2 wasps at Lake Superior

SUPs: one at Caliper Lake, one at the motel (Niobe Lake)

Hikes: one at Sioux Narrows, one at Quetico, one at Neys, one at Pukaskwa, one at Lake Superior

Distance driven since last map: 1,572km

[sapinelle]

my city has entered lockdown for the 100th time and i’m feeling claustrophobic 

#sapinelle’s journal #i drove out to a wooded trail and took a walk by myself just to BREATHE #i'm so tired of living like this #canada is a joke for vaccine delivery ok #slow af and we keep getting shortages #so far only my grandparents got vaccinated #i prob won't be eligible until late summer or fall #i just wish i was free to roam #but they have restricted travel between provinces

[storiesforallfandoms]

bloodlust ~ jasper hale;twilight

word count: 1754

request?: yes!

“I’m not sure if you do Twilight, but if so can you please write a Jasper Hale x reader where it’s just him coming to terms with his feelings and trying not to push the reader away just cause they’re human. Thank you no matter what love :))”

description: when she thinks he’s avoiding her because he hates her, he has to tell her his biggest secret

pairing: jasper hale x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of death

masterlist (one, two)

I didn’t understand Bella’s extreme obsession with Edward Cullen after they started dating until Jasper Hale started showing me the same attention.

I had known Jasper since the Cullens moved to Forks. Or rather I knew of Jasper. Much like his adopted siblings, Jasper kept to himself or to the Cullens. It wasn’t until our English teacher paired us together for a project that I finally got to know him.

Despite the whole school knowing that Jasper and Alice were together, I started to notice that the way he looked at me, or the way he treated me, mirrored Edward and Bella’s own romance. And before I knew it, my feelings also mirrored Bella’s.

I felt on top of the world to have the attention of such a beautiful man. I felt unworthy, but at the same time I felt a sense of pride. And overall, I felt strong, romantic feelings for Jasper; feelings I was sure he had for me as well.

Until he started ignoring me suddenly. He wouldn’t talk to me, he changed seats in English class to be further away from me. He wouldn’t even look at me when we were in the same room.

“He hates me,” I said to Jessica as Jasper drifted past me in the lunchroom without acknowledgement once again. “I don’t now why, but that’s the only reason I can think of that he’d be ignoring me.”

“Or Alice has him back on her chain,” Jessica suggested with a shrug.

“He and Alice broke up a while ago, Jess,” Angela pointed out. “Didn’t you know that?”

I laughed as Jessica shook her head. “The great gossip of Forks didn’t know something? Mark the calendar, Angela, this is a historic day.”

Jessica threw her nearly rock hard dinner roll at me.

That evening while I was home alone, a knock came at my front door. Confused, I went to answer. I was shocked to see Jasper stood there, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Jas?” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I owe you an explanation,” he told me. “Care for a drive?”

I followed him to the flashy sports car he drove, one of very few in all of Forks - the others belonging to his siblings. He held the door open for me as I got in. He was in the driver’s seat and had the car started before I even had my seatbelt on.

Jasper’s driving was way too fast, and he was weaving in and out of the cars too carelessly. I was starting to regret my decision to get in his car. One hand was gripping the passenger door so tightly my knuckles were white. Jasper noticed and chuckled.

“Relax, I drive like this all the time,” he assured me.

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better,” I muttered. Jasper chuckled again, which made me slightly annoyed.

After some time, Jasper pulled up to a hiking trail a short ways out of town. I watched him unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the car. He paused, waiting for me to follow. I was starting to feel panicked and wondered why I had decided to go with him. Why had he brought me out here alone? Why hadn’t I told anyone where I was going before I left home?

We walked in silence for a while. I started falling behind, stumbling over the twigs and rocks. At one point I almost fell, but Jasper was quick to steady me.

“I forgot you can’t walk as quickly as I can,” he said. “We’re almost there.”

“Almost where?” I asked, but he had already started walking again.

We came to a clearing where the sun was just peaking through the trees. Jasper paused, looking back at me for a moment. “This is going to look silly for a moment, but know there is something serious underneath it.”

Before I could ask, Jasper stepped into one of the sunny patches. I gasped as his skin lit up like a diamond under light. He looked anywhere but at me, as if afraid to see what my reaction to this was.

I approached him slowly, extending a hand towards him. I poked some exposed skin, wondering if I was about to find out I was dreaming or that Jasper had never been real to begin with. His skin was cold and hard as stone, and I realized in that moment that I had never touched Jasper’s bare skin before.

“What is this?” I asked. “What are you showing me?”

“I heard you talking to Jessica and Angela at lunch today,” he explained, “about whether or not I hated you and if that was why I was avoiding you. But the truth is I was avoiding you for the opposite reason. I don’t hate you, (Y/N). I never could, but I’m dangerous. To you, anyways.”

I stepped back, feeling very uneasy. “What do you mean, Jas?”

“I’m not...human,” he explained. “And I haven’t been for decades. There are many names for what I am, but the most commonly used is vampire.”

I felt like the air had been knocked out of me. I was convinced this was some sort of practical joke on me, but I didn’t think any of the Cullens were capable of doing that.

“Are...are all of you...” I started, trying to find my words.

“We are,” he confirmed. “Carlisle found all of us and changed most of us. There’s a very long history about our family. I won’t go into it now, I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked him.

Jasper stepped out of the light, his skin almost immediately returning to normal. Every logical part of me was telling me not to let Jasper get closer to me, but at the same time I trusted him. I didn’t think he was going to hurt me, I trusted him not to hurt me.

He reached out for me, but hesitated. Against my better judgement, I stepped forward to let him touch me. His hands were cold against the skin on my exposed arms. His golden eyes looked down into mine and I felt myself subconsciously leaning into his body.

“Because I feel something for you that I’ve never felt for anyone besides Alice before,” he told me. “And I know you feel the same way for me. I tried to distance myself for your safety. I’m still new to living with humans as I was the last to join the Cullen’s lifestyle of just feeding from animals, but I realized that was only hurting you more. I needed to tell you so that you could make your own decision about how you felt for me.”

He was right, it was a lot to take in. I had so many questions, but at the mention of Alice I realized there was one outstanding question I needed answered before we went any further.

“What about you and Alice?” I asked. “You two have been together...I guess basically forever. What made you two decide to break up?”

“Alice, Edward and I all have special powers that we developed after we were changed. Edward can read minds, I can feel and manipulate emotions - which is how I know for sure that you feel the same way for me - and Alice can see the future. She saw many visions that included you - most of which included the two of us in a romantic setting. I told her it would never happen because I loved her so much, but she was so sure I’d love you too. She told me to wait until we were paired up for that project and I’d actually get to know you, then I could make that decision.”

I winced. Knowing that Alice saw visions of her boyfriend falling in love with another woman - a human at that - before Jasper even knew I existed made me feel guilty.

“Was she angry?” I asked, my voice a whisper.

Jasper laughed, a beautiful sound that echoed through the otherwise empty woods. “Not at all. If anything, she was excited. She claims that you two are going to be best friends the way she is with Bella, and she’s very excited to have another female in the family. That is...if you’re still willing to be with me with...what you know now.”

I had to admit, the thought of the person I was in love with being a vampire was terrifying. Not because of the needing to drink blood to live - like I said, I trusted Jasper. If his or any of the Cullens’ desire for blood was a risk, they wouldn’t be living amongst humans. But the thought of growing old while Jasper remained the same age forever, of him eventually not wanting to be with me because of that age difference was terrifying. And the alternative...I didn’t want to consider that right now.

I moved closer to Jasper. He moved his hands to my waist, pulling me so that my body was touching his. Our lips were inches away, and I finally leaned in to close the gap between us.

His lips, much like the rest of his body, were cold, but I felt a sensation when kissing him that I had never felt before. I placed a hand against his face, gently stroking his hard skin as our lips moved perfectly together. His grip around my waist tightened a little, but not enough to hurt me. It felt more like he was making sure I wouldn’t disappear on him.

I pulled away first, resting my forehead against his. “I hope that gives you your answer.”

He smiled and I felt a happy sensation wash over me. I remembered he said he could manipulate the emotions of others and I wondered if his happiness was so strong that it was effecting me as well, or if he wanted me to know how happy he felt.

“We should get you home,” he said. “Your parents will probably be worried sick if they come home and you’re missing.”

“You’re right,” I said. I reluctantly pulled him his grasp, but took his hand in mine as we walked back to the car. “But can you not drive like a maniac on the way home? I’d rather not die of a heart attack in your car.”

Jasper chuckled. “No promises. One thing you have to learn about vampires, we love to go fast.”

#jasper hale #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x reader #jackson rathbone #jackson rathebone imagine #jackson rathbone x reader #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight saga #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[emilysshortstories]

Paul Lahote Part 2

Don’t really know what to call this, but thanks for all the love on the last part. I’m gonna try and post weekly but I work a lot so no promises.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it. cussing, hints towards abuse.

After a few weeks went by things seemed to work themselves out between Jacob and Bella. I would drive out to Emily’s about once a week, Paul conveniently never being there. Which I was actually kinda glad about, although I felt eager to be around him, Jared told me about his anger issues so I think it’s better for me to steer clear of him until this eagerness goes away. Anger issues scare me. 

Jared and I have gotten close through these visits, always laughing at each other's sarcastic jokes and ending the night with an episode of New Girl. That was usually the time when everyone else bailed but I didn’t care, it gave Jared and I some hilarious inside jokes. No matter how close we got, our feelings for each other never grew past platonic, though I would rarely catch Sam giving Jared a look. It was never all knowing “when are you going to ask her out?” look, more of a “back off” look. But that could just be me reading into it too much, there is nothing. I am thinking too much. I’m just happy I finally made a friend of my own. 

One day when I arrived at Emily’s for dinner, there was a new face in the crowd. “Y/N! You’re here!” said Emily as I walked in. “Hey! This is for you. It’s a cake for later” I said, handing her the grocery bag in my hands. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. This is Seth, Harry’s son.” Emily pointed to the unfamiliar face. “Hi, I’m Y/N, Charlie Swan’s niece.” I introduced myself, but Seth just kind of stared at me, never saying a word. Jared’s laughing was what broke the silence. “What are you laughing at dick nose?” I asked, hoping not to embarrass Seth. “Nothing, just your ability to woo people” 

“Very funny, I don’t woo anyone, you’re imagining things. How Emily puts up with you is beyond me.”

“IT’S NOT WITHOUT GREAT DIFFICULTY” Emily yelled from the kitchen before walking towards us. “Paul isn’t going to show up again?” she added.

“Nope” Embry said “ Too stubborn for his own good, the dumbass”

“Hey, if he doesn’t want to meet me that’s fine. It’s none of my business.” I say, hoping to ease Emily’s thoughts, seeming it always bothers her when he doesn’t show up. 

We all seemed to move past it and dinner was great, as usual. “Hey, instead of New Girl do you want to take a walk? I’ll show you the hiking trails around here.” Jared asked me.

“Sounds great” I said with a smile.

“Can I join you guys?” Seth asks like a small child which made me have to suppress a giggle. Poor boy had been staring at me all night like a lost puppy, he was cute no doubt, but being 5 years younger than me was a deal breaker. 

“No, Jared has something important to explain to her. Remember?” Sam said like he was Seth’s father. He seemed to always be incharge of everything around these guys so that didn’t surprise me. I definitely wouldn’t call them a cult, but club would be a better term, seeming as a hierarchy was apparent. 

“Seth likes you” Jared said as soon as we walked out of the house. “Wow! Way to out your friend there! Remind me to never trust you with a secret. Plus you don’t know that for certain, he just met me.” I said and Jared laughed, but didn’t say anything back. No until we were pretty deep into the woods did I ask “So what is this thing Sam said you needed to show me?” 

“Well I wanted to try and explain it to you but I have a feeling you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Your sarcasm levels are like no other to be fair, so show me.”

“Ok” he said and stopped walking. “Just brace yourself and try not to panic. I promise I won’t hurt you ok?”

“Ok” I say, trying to do what he said.

I watched. Watched him take off his shoes. Watched him back up a few feet. Watched him start to shake. Just like Paul did that day Bella slapped him. Then I watched him turn into a wolf. I was stuck. Didn’t say or do anything. I couldn’t. Just continued to watch as this wolf trotted back into the woods. My brain was blank. No thoughts, words or actions came to mind. Everyone knows the fight or flight trauma responses, but not a lot of people talk about the third: freeze. 

Jared came back, this time a human. “You okay?”. I took a deep breath and said “I’m in need of explanation please” I remembered that he wasn’t going to hurt me. 

He explained the histories, Vampires, and why he spends most of his time with the “pack”. I listened, tried to take it all in and process the copious amounts of new information, but apparently I was too quiet for Jared. “Please say something” 

“I’m alright, surprised to say the least and will need some time to process everything. But I’m not mad I promise. Thank you for telling me everything.”

“Well, that actually is not all. We just figured it would be best to wait until you’re ok with this first.” 

“There is more? Please just tell me the rest, trust me, I process better with all the information.”

“Okay, well. We can hear each other's thoughts, we are 108 degrees, and we can imprint.”

“That’s why you never wear shirts… What’s imprinting?” 

“The best way I can describe it is soulmates. When we make eye contact with them, our whole world becomes this person and we will be and do anything for them. When we are apart it’s hell, getting rejected by an imprint can really fuck you up. Make you sick. No one has ever died from being seperated from an imprint but you might as well be.”

“That sounds intense. What does that have to do with me?” 

“Paul imprinted on you. And it scared him. Still does scare him because love was never something that he wanted. That’s why he won’t see you, he isn’t mad at you. He’s in love with you and his stubbornness is eating him alive. It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have to listen to his obsessive thoughts all the time.” 

“Hold on. Paul is my soulmate but he doesn't want me?”

“No, he wants you. He needs you, but he’s scared. We thought if we told you, you could convince-”

“You want me to try and convince my soulmate that he should be with me?... Fuck that. You dump all this crap on me and then tell me my own fucking soulmate doesn’t want me?!”

As if on cue, Paul came out of the woods “What did you do to her Jared? You hurt her?!”

“How do you know I’m in pain?”

“We feel our imprints' pain too” Jared added. 

“Oh! Perfect! So you can feel what you are doing to me asshole!” I couldn’t help but yell at Paul, I was overwhelmed to say the least. I’d never been so angry in my whole life. 

“What?”

“Jared didn’t hurt me, You did! What? You thought that I would be all sweet and understanding?! Awe my own fucking soulmate doesn’t want me-”

“No it’s no like that-”

“What is it? Am I not as pretty as you thought I would be? Well I can guarantee that you were not what I had in mind either you prick! In fact you are the last person I ever wanted. Oh great! Another egotistical asshole with anger issues to make me feel like shit all the time! Let me just take off my shoes so you can sweep me off my feet properly! I’m happy you got some practice keeping your distance from me. Now keep doing it! And don’t you dare think, even for a second, that you have any sort of claim over me. I’m out of here!”

Frustrated tears flowed down my face like a waterfall while my heart felt like it had died in my stomach and air was coming into my lungs but not my head. 

“Please don’t go. I had no idea you would feel this way. I can’t be separated from you anymore, I’ll go insane-”

“GOOD! Now fuck off!” I got into my car and slammed my door before Paul ran up to me window “Ok ok you can leave, just please let me drive you home. You shouldn’t be driving like this, and it’s dark. I promise I won’t say a word. Let Jared drive you! Anything.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” My own stubbornness got the best of me and I drove away. Only this time I was dumb enough to look in the mirror to see Paul sobbing.

#twilight #paul lahote #paul lahote smut #paul lahote imagine #seth clearwater #embry call #jared cameron #sam uley #leah clearwater #wolfpack #quil ateara

[theunholygrails]

Foolish Games Part 2

Masterlist

A/N: Introducing new characters and some drama! Percy is still sexy as ever :'(.

Warnings: BJ

I woke up to a door slamming so hard it joined the symphony of my pounding headache. I groaned, hoisting myself over the back of the couch to investigate to intrusion. A brunette head of long sweeping hair rushed through the foyer, barreling towards the kitchen. A familiar mop of black hair hurried after.

Reyna was speaking so fast in Spanish my brain scrambled to keep up. I noted lots of curse words followed by a series of sentences too fast I was surprised she even knew what she was saying. Percy was answering in slow measured words, probably fighting a hangover of equal measure. I ducked behind the back of the couch, reaching for my phone plugged in on the coffee table.

It was noon. 2% battery and a couple messages from friends. Nothing from my ex thank gods. Five from Annabeth being nosey. I opened my uber app, squinting in the sunlight breaking through the cream curtains. I managed to get my driver secured.

A door slammed and I winced, peaking to check that they were in another room. I did not immediately spot my dress in the chaotic. I grimaced remembering the midnight swim. When I sat up I finally noticed the white tshirt I wore and the basketball shorts. And then I went rigid remembering what happened after the swim.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered.

Now I really had to get out of this house. I checked the arrival time of my driver. Three minutes away. Great. I made my way on shaky knees to the large wooden front door. My keys were still in the collection dish. I grabbed them quietly and turned the door handle a fraction of an inch before another door slammed open and Reyna came barreling back into the foyer, brown eyes landing promptly on my guilty ass. Behind her, Percy pursed his lips into a thin line and raised both of his hands to lay on top of his head. His biceps strained nicely against the thin t shirt.

“The fuck is this?” Reyna whispered.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I babbled.

“It’s just Noa, Rey. Gods,” Percy said.

“I can see that, Percy!” She snapped. I was glad her spear was not strapped across her back this morning. “Why is she sneaking out of my house in your clothes?”

“People were swimming last night. Her clothes got wet.”

“I’m sure the fuck they did.”

“Zeus, Rey! You ended it with me. Why does it even matter?”

“Because I still fucking love you! I’m sorry, okay?” She burst out crying and Percy instantly pulled her against his chest. The memory of being in those arms drove me out the door like a nest of hornets.

~~~~

“I’m just saying. You have nothing to feel sorry for,” Annabeth paused to sip her iced coffee. “Unless they get back together and then you sleep with him. But as of right now, you’re good. Trust me. Been on the Percy train. We’re still friends. You’ll get over it. Just a harmless rebound for both of you.”

I groaned, laying my chin on the cool metal table parked outside our favorite coffee shop positioned between our New York apartments. Just two Manhattan women enjoying their Sunday afternoon. The air was cooling as fall neared. I pulled my baseball cap closer to the top of my sunglasses.

“Should I call him?”

“Maybe tomorrow. Let him deal with his relationship drama. Reyna is a lot to deal with. Still nothing from fuckface?”

“Nope and that’s fine.”

“Good for you. We will hydrate you, get you a good dinner, hit the gym before work in the morning and then get back on our bad bitch mental track. Agreed?”

~~~~

“Good Monday, yogis,” I chirped from my desk at the corner of my studio.

The third class was beginning to trickle in and I was settling into my rhythm. Hot yoga was next and hopefully I would sweat out all the negativity I’d allowed lately. I was in the middle of emailing back a potential client when someone rapped at the wood of my desk. I glanced up to a blonde male who waved gently.

“Heya, sansei Noa,” he said.

“That’s karate. Can I help you?”

“Do you do trial classes?”

I hit send on my email and closed my laptop. The guy was built like a poser with the defined muscles and chiseled jaw but his voice was soft and tempered. He was clean shaven and dressed like a basic gym bro.

“Normally you have to schedule them beforehand because of class size,” I gave my standard answer.

“Right, my bad. Sorry. I was just passing by the front and it looked like the kind of place I needed right now. Can I go ahead and pick a date then?”

I was staring too long into his pale blue eyes, honed in on the polite response. A nice change from the daily demanding consumers. “You know what? Ive got space right now if you like? Have you ever done hot yoga?”

A brilliant white smile showcasing sharp canines. “My favorite.”

“Perfect. I just need a name, number and email to get you a file started.”

He leaned large hands on my desk. “It’s Luke Castellan.”

Before he could give the contact information, I cut him off. “Wait. I know you.” His tanned skin paled significantly.

“I…”

“You’re supposed to be dead!” I blurted out.

His eyes skated around the room and he leaned in closer. “That’s not supposed to be public knowledge. I assume you’re a demigod?”

“Luke, you trained me. We took fucking sculpting together. The Apollo table was right next to the Hermes one for fuck’s sake.”

He winced. I heard a murmuring from the rest of my class I was disturbing with my volume. I collected my shock finally. “Take a seat if you want. We should talk after class. I need to start.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry Noa.”

I waved him off and walked over to my yoga mat. I sat cross legged and drew in an even breath to smooth out my emotions.

It was a slow 30 minute class. Each pose and movement dragged on. Finally, I dismissed the group and nodded Luke outside. He was waiting on the bench outside of the studio I split renting with a few other instructors. I sat next to him, wiping sweat from my face with the towel slung over my pink sports bra.

“Alright, talk,” I said.

“Not much to say. I was given a second chance at my hearing. Here I am. Starting over.” A shrug of well-defined shoulders. The muscles flexed beneath his gleaming sweat. His red tank top stuck to his chest and stomach. “I wish I remembered you, truly. That time is such a blur in my life.”

“It’s ok. You were a lot older than me and to be honest I had a massive crush on you so I probably hid most of the time.”

A surprised smile slipped across his lips. “I’m assuming the betrayal helped you get over that?”

I laughed outloud, slapping his knee. “No shit! So where are you staying these days?”

“Just around the corner actually. Got a job at the local gym.”

“Yeah I bet the fuck you did.” I squeezed his forearm between both of my hands. I wanted to roll my eyes at me falling back into my school girl giddy at him. Betrayal of the gods aside. He was even more gorgeous than ever. The scar down his face gave him a dark sexy vibe. Like a bad boy even though he claimed he was rehabbing himself now.

“So how, did you feel about the class?”

“I mean, I’d like to sign up for it a couple times a week, that’s for sure. And I’d like to take you out to dinner to make up for not remembering a beauty like you.”

I almost bit my cheek biting out the response of “Yes!”

“You’ve got my number,” he said, chuckling quietly. “I’ve got to get to work.” He shouldered his gym bag and excused himself.

The bike back to my apartment was spent reliving my tween fantasies about bad boy Luke. I opened my apartment door and screeched seeing a man sitting at my kitchen counter. Percy turned to face me.

“You know you live in New York? You should really lock that.”

“It was!” I snapped.

A quick grin. “Yeah. But it was easy to break into.”

I dropped my bag onto the floor and brushed past him to get a protein shake from the fridge. “I have to shower and get prepared for my night classes.” I told him.

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t either.”

He paused, studying my face in the shitty lighting of the single bulb hanging between us over the counter. “Are we good, Noa?”

“Of course. What’s a little head between friends?”

“Okay…I can’t read you. Can you not play tough just for a minute?”

I chugged the shake and set the bottle down between us. I leaned my arms on the chilled counter, bun knocking against the light. “Honestly, Percy. I’m fine. We are good.”

“Reyna moved back in.”

“You’re engaged again?”

I drank from the empty bottle to give myself something to do. He watched me with those green eyes. He’d known me for far too long. He was nearly impossible to deceive, but I was determined today. The fact that I had dreamt of fucking him two consecutive nights was irrelevant if he was off the table. Even if his lips did look incredibly juicy tonight. Even if they had done near illicit things to me just nights ago.

“I don’t know. She said she wanted to work on things. And it’s her dad’s house, so I can’t ask her to go and I don’t want to go to my mom’s and admit defeat.”

“You know you could stay here, Perc.”

He worked his jaw silently, then rubbed his hands over his face. “Thanks. I do know. Even if we aren’t officially back together, I think we should work on it…” he trailed off.

“And not tell her about you eating me out?” I leaned closer because I was mean to both him and myself. Because I knew this top combined with this angle gave him a simple opportunity. And he took it.

His tongue slid out between his lips as his eyes flicked down, stayed, then dragged deliberately back up. “Probably not,” he agreed.

For a long moment neither of us said anything. He had more to lose now than me. We were no longer on equal playing fields. So, I left the ball in his court. “I’m going to go shower.”

I was done washing in the first ten minutes. The second ten was giving him a little wiggle room to decide. I had my hand on the faucet to cut off the water that was beginning to go cold when I heard the door creak open. I watched through the fogged glass, catching a hold of my breath. I watched as he tugged his shirt off. My stomach flipped over itself when he reached for his jeans. What had I done?

The opening door let in a rush of cool air, perking my skin to attention. My eyes raked unapologetically over his naked, aroused body. His dark hair quickly slicked against his stubble covered jaw. His eyes were no longer the sea green but murky like the deep water of the ocean.

“Hey,” he said quietly, cautiously.

“Hey,” I giggled, reaching out to touch his rough jaw. He winced, catching my hand with his. “We probably shouldn’t kiss again.”

“Sure, whatever you want, Percy. What can I do to you?”

He groaned, turning his mouth into my palm, scraping teeth against the vulnerable skin. “Touch me,” he said.

My free hand instantly planted against his chest, scraping at the muscle. His eyes fluttered closed, head tilting back to expose his throat. I slid my other hand into his thick hair, tugging it tightly between my fingers and pulling to grant myself more access to the strong column of his neck. I bit it first, backing him into the tiled wall when he shuddered. I kissed over the reddening skin and moved my hands to his flat stomach, feeling the shuddered breaths beneath my touch.

“Like this?” I asked.

His reply was unintelligible. I kissed down his chest, moving my hand lower still as I went. When my fingers brushed over the v-line of his hips, I shifted my route away from the center and to his thighs. An annoyed grunt escaped his lips. “Hush,” I scolded, getting my knees under me. The now cold water was hitting the back of my neck and flowing down my body. I placed my hands on the inside of both his thighs, trailing them upwards and upwards until he nearly contorted when I gripped him. He let out a scandalous string of curses that quickly turned to moaning silence when I took him into my mouth.

He unraveled in minutes and I let him cum all over the breasts I had teased him with earlier. I rose in front of him, my own rosy cheeks mirroring his. “Now we’re even.”

#percy jackson smut #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #logan lerman smut #logan lerman fanfiction

[helliontherapscallion]

New Enemies, New Alliances (Sweet Betrayal Part 4)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: Swearing, graphic description of injuries/death, violence, grief, blood, manipulation

Word count: 3,661 

(A/N): Things are starting to get spicy, folks!

“Nice job today, I think you’d actually put up a fight in battle now,” Dream grabbed your hand and helped you up. You basked in the compliment, they were few and far between. Now, if you didn’t pass one of the Badlanders by accident, Dream and Lucius were the only ones to recognize your work. 

You brushed off your training clothes and smiled to yourself when you saw Lucius move to pat you on the back before stopping himself. He’s been around for a month now and he still isn’t used to not being able to touch anyone. You remembered that when he was alive, physical touch was his love language. It must be killing him to not touch anybody. 

“Yeah! I’d hate to be on the other side of your sword, homie!” You have no clue why he started to call you ‘homie’, he hated that word when he was alive. Faintly, you supposed that he must’ve learned it sometime between after he died and when he was looking for you as a ghost. 

“Thanks, guys,” you fiddled with the handle of your sword before swinging it over to rest on your shoulder. The walk home was filled with Lucius and Dream exchanging terrible puns, much to your exasperation. Out of all the things he could’ve kept in his personality after he died, it just had to be his love for puns. 

As the days passed and the war’s climax drew closer and closer, stress was increasing in the White House. Schlatt had become far more paranoid of traitors in the midst of the remaining cabinet, and truth be told you were also growing more paranoid. It was like you and Schlatt were the only ones completely loyal to Manberg anymore. 

Lucius had increasingly grown worried for your well being, always trying to push you to go to bed early and urging you to distance yourself from Schlatt. In your opinion Lucius was insane for even suggesting the latter, Schlatt was everything to you. Without him, you’d be nothing. 

“I really don’t-”

“Lucius, drop it,” you hissed out, rubbing your forehead and returning to your work. You needed to get this paperwork done as soon as you could, otherwise Schlatt would have your ass. 

“I’m not going to ‘drop it’, (y/n). You need a break! All of this,” he swung his arms around to gesture at your office, “isn’t you.” 

“You don’t understand, Lucius,” you bitterly chuckled and threw your quill down onto your desk. The ink that was on the tip splattered over the desk, staining the birch wood black. “This,” you gestured towards the office and walked over to the window. Lucius followed you and looked out at the city. You clasped your hands behind your back and smiled fondly at the sight of the endless buildings. “This is me.” 

“I know you, you aren’t this- this brutal or bloody insane!” Lucius tried to put his hands on your shoulders but stopped himself, settling for crossing them across his chest. “You’re caring, funny, ambitious, and most importantly agreeable! Now, if someone even slightly crosses you, your first thought is revenge.” 

“That person was a coward through and through. Aren’t you happy that I’m finally standing up for myself?” 

“Standing up for yourself? Standing up for yourself? You get stepped on constantly by that ram asshole that you call a father, you call that standing up for yourself?” 

You spun around to face him, looking down at his face with a harsh glare, “you have no right to bring Schlatt up, he’s done everything for me while you were just galavanting around the SMP doing Ender knows what! He’s the one that took me in. He’s the one that cared for me. He’s the one who made me who I am today. He’s the one that made me less of a coward.”

“Are you serious? He’s the one that completely fucked up your life! When was the last time he’s said anything that bordered on nice to you? When was the last time he said he loves you? I just want the best for you, (y/n),” he ran a hand through his hair and looked up at you in desperation and frustration. “You wouldn’t be this mentally unstable or this disfigured if you would’ve just stayed away from him like I told you to do when I was alive.” 

“You clearly don’t know what’s best for me if you’re too blind to know that Schlatt changed me for the better,” you scoffed to yourself. “That person left the second I killed you.”

You watched as his already pale skin blanched impossibly and his eyes widened in horror. “You- you what?” 

So he doesn’t remember his own death? How interesting. 

“You don’t remember? You were my first kill, I can still remember the crunching sound your skull made and how warm the blood that splattered on my face was when I drove that pickaxe through your forehead. The power I felt after I came to terms with the fact that I just took someone’s life? Exhilarating.” 

You smirked down at his terrified face, taking great pleasure in the fear he felt. He took several steps back from you, almost tripping when his heel caught the edge of the carpet. Grinning, you followed him until he was pressing himself up against the wall. You leaned down close to his ear and whispered, “I’ve never felt anything like it before. You were my first friend and my first kill, kudos to you.” 

He ducked out of your presence with haste and distanced himself from you, his chest heaving with panicked breaths. He stuttered out a response, “do you even regret it?” 

Regret was something you always pushed deep into your subconscious, “regret is for losers, winners own up to everything they do,” Schlatt’s voice echoed in your mind. You didn’t like thinking about your regrets, however the delicious fearful tone that shook Lucius’ voice was too alluring to ignore. He deserved every single ounce of the fear that racked his body, the argument that had raged on previously still filling you with anger. You’d humor him for now.

You certainly regretted it when you first killed him prior to losing your first life, if losing your first life is anything to go by. You hadn’t even done it on purpose; it was simply a freak accident in an abandoned mineshaft. You didn’t know that when you and Lucius discovered it that you’d leave without him. You could remember exactly what happened that day.

“Luci, wait up!” You pushed yourself to run faster into the cave, chasing the short teenager. He threw his head back and laughed, “catch me if you can!” 

You grinned happily to yourself, “I’ll catch you faster than you can say a damn pun!” 

You followed him deeper and deeper into the cave, passing different assortments of ores and jumping over crevices along the way. The carefree laughter that bounced off from the stone walls mingling with the slapping of both of your leather boots against the floor. 

Despite the sharp twists and turns, you managed to stay hot on his trail. Eventually, he led you deep into a mineshaft. That was where you couldn’t keep up with him anymore. By the time you followed him around a corner, he was nowhere to be seen. You slowly came to a stop and looked around at the dark hallways. This had to be the largest mineshaft you’d ever seen, it was seemingly endless with a labyrinth of twisting halls. You looked behind you only to be met with even more dark halls. You couldn’t even remember where you came from, everything in here looked the same. 

In the distance, you heard the hissing of cave spiders and the pitter pattering of their multitude of feet on stone. You swallowed nervously and took out your pickaxe, mentally scolding yourself for not thinking to bring your sword. Every single sound made you jump out of your skin and press yourself up against the wall, preparing yourself to swing at any movement. 

Eventually, you gathered the courage to start to wander the maze of hallways. You gripped the handle of your iron pickaxe in a vice grip, ready to kill any mob that would potentially sneak up on you. 

“Luci, please come out. I’m starting to get scared.” 

You paused to strain your ears for any potential reply, only to sigh to yourself when you heard nothing but cave spider sounds and the faroff dripping of water. With a steadying breath, you ventured further into the mineshaft. 

As you passed a hallway, you saw sudden movement from the corner of your eye. Squeezing your eyes shut with a small yelp, you spun around, raised your pickaxe, and swung it down with all your might. 

In an instant, you heard a sharp gasp. When you felt your pickaxe make contact with something, a sickening combination of a crunching and squelching noise accompanied the feeling of something warm splatter across your face. You peeked your eyes open to see what mob had attacked you. 

Instead of a zombie or… or whatever your mind was expecting to see, Lucius stood there looking at you with his eyes bulging and his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Your hands left the pickaxe and flew up to your mouth as you stepped back in horror at what you’ve done. As soon as you dropped the pickaxe, Lucius’s body dropped with it. He fell to the stone ground limply with a thud, landing on his side with his arms and legs awkwardly sprawled out. 

You stood frozen as you watched his body start to convulse before falling still completely after what seemed like hours. Nothing but the roaring of blood in your ears and the obnoxiously loud thumping of your heart in your throat was heard. You finally snapped out of your trance when you saw his body still and started to dissolve in glowing golden dust. 

“No, nonononono what the fuck did I just do?!” You dropped to your knees next to his body, feeling icy dread as you saw the telltale sign of death floating from his body. Gritting your teeth, you pressed your hands over his limp arm where the majority of the dust was coming from in a desperate attempt to potentially save him. He was already losing his warmth, you could feel him rapidly cooling under your hands. To your terror, the dust merely slipped through the cracks of your fingers. 

Strangled sobs left your mouth as you removed your hands and dragged his upper body onto your lap. You lifted him up and hugged him as tight as you could, once again pressing your hands over the glowing gold, trying and failing to keep his body in one piece. You hated how he was slowly lightning as his body was dissolving. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated to him like a mantra. “I’m so fucking sorry Luci, come back.” 

Just before he fully left you, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, praying to whatever gods were above that he’d just wake up and laugh loudly. 

“You should’ve seen your face,” he’d tease you, “I really got you good this time, didn’t I?” 

He’d then realize just how terrified you were, and he’d then hold you close to him while humming your song over and over. He’d tell you, “turn that frown upside down! You’re never fully dressed without a smile.” He’d put his pointer fingers on the corners of your lips and lift it into a smile, telling you to “fake it til you make it” and that “your smile is your best asset to use against someone.” 

You’d ask him in a bout of confusion, “but then you’d be vulnerable! Isn’t it better to just… hide it all?”

He’d give you that dazzling smile of his and gently tap your nose with a finger, “hiding everything behind a smile is better than being a husk of a person. I know there’s a constant happiness deep down in you, I’ve seen it and it’s absolutely beautiful. C’mon,” he’d start to jab your sides lightly, “give me a smile!”

You’d shove his hands away from you with a small, genuine smile. He’d then haul you up to your feet and lead you out of the mines, pulling you behind him as he ranted constantly about what he had planned for you both for the day with his signature blinding smile. 

But that didn’t happen.

Soon enough, you were holding nothing in your tight grasp and your face was hovering midair with something coming to rest in your lap. As you pried your eyes open and saw the bloodied pickaxe that laid in your lap and the blood that covered your clothes and slicked your hands, a guttural scream ripped itself from your throat. You’ve never screamed so loudly or so intensely; you were unsure if the copper you tasted in the back of your throat was from your fried vocal cords or from Lucius. 

You stayed in that spot crying until you couldn’t anymore. The full reality of the situation hit you as you finally found your way out of the cave after days of wandering. Not knowing where else you could go, you stumbled to Schlatt and Quackity’s house. 

The second Quackity opened the door and saw you sobbing and splattered with blood looking like you haven’t eaten or drank anything in days, he immediately took you into their household and sat you on the edge of the bathtub. He was the one that cleaned the blood off from your face with a warm washcloth and held you to his chest after you cried out when the feeling of the warm water was too similar to the blood that had splattered your face days before. 

Schlatt had been the one to coax you to eat something after you had passed out in Quackity’s arms, whether due to lack of sleep or nourishment, you didn’t know. Alongside that, he was the first one you talked to about a couple of days into your stay with them. 

Though you never told them what happened to your late best friend and what you did to him, they fully supported you and slowly nursed you back to the point where you could keep yourself alive without their constant aid. Whenever you’d have nightmares of the incident, Schlatt would be quick to make you realize that you were in their guest bedroom and not deep inside of a mineshaft while Quackity would stay by your side throughout the night softly humming small tunes. 

Though everything came crashing down when Philza showed up at their door one day and drugged you home, your time with them solidified your suspicions that you could be loved. 

You blunk, the scene of the blood spattered stone being replaced with your office and the very boy you accidentally killed cowering in the far corner of your room. He was staring at you like you were a starving lion and he was a cornered gazelle, watching your every move vigilantly. You couldn’t blame him, he was in the same room with his murderer after all.

“...I didn’t mean to kill you; I was terrified at the time, I couldn’t believe that I killed my best friend. Hell, I even killed myself because of the guilt.” 

Though a brief flash of sadness reflected across his face, he hadn’t budged from his place with his eyes still trained on you, “t-the past doesn’t matter. Do you regret it now?”

You once again paused, the question of ‘do you regret it’ circulating your mind once more. If Lucius hadn’t died that day, you wouldn’t be the person you were today; you’d still be getting stepped on by everyone. You’d still be a coward, a spineless nobody. You wouldn’t be happy. 

Though you hated yourself for even thinking about this, you questioned if you were truly happy here. You had everything you’ve ever wanted here: the power that you craved, a surefire means of getting your revenge, and living with the person that had constantly supported you. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt like something was missing. Yes, you’ve felt like that your entire life, but lately it felt like a massive, evergrowing void from deep within your core was swallowing everything within you. Maybe Lucius was right. Maybe-

“Why are you hesitating?!” Your eyes snapped to Lucius, surprised at his outburst. Now instead of the petrified look on his face just moments before, a spiteful one replaced it. “Why the fuck are you hesitating?” 

“Lucius-” 

A bitter chuckle interrupted you, “the fact that you’re hesitating tells me everything I need to know. I really thought the real you was somewhere deep within you, but you were right! This is the real you... You really are the monster everyone says you are.” 

Before you could say anything, he fazed through the door leaving you standing in the middle of your desolate office. It felt like a spike was driven through your heart, you never would’ve expected Lucius to say anything like that. Not Lucius, never Lucius.

The pleasure that coursed through your veins previously during the argument had long since fleeted and been replaced with something you vowed to never feel again: regret. Disgust hit you full force as you remembered the delight and satisfaction that filled you at the sight of his fear. Your first and closest friend that stuck with you through thick and thin, his utter fear gave you pleasure. You really were a monster, weren’t you?

A knock sounded at your door, making you jump out of your skin. 

“(Y/n), it’s time for our session.” Dream’s voice sounded through the thick doors. You sighed and looked at your suit, you weren’t even dressed properly. 

“I’m not ready yet, I will be in about five minutes.” Your tone wavered slightly, making you hope that Dream wouldn’t comment on it.

“Is everything alright? I’m coming in.” 

The door opened to reveal Dream wearing his usual lime green hoodie and his signature smiling mask. His curls bounced as he made his way over to you and examined your face. 

“You look like shit,” he mused, “you know, you don’t need that ghost. He’s just been holding you back this entire time.” 

“Well,” you crossed your arms and looked off to the side, “he isn’t in the picture anymore.” 

He was silent for a moment before he walked over to your couch and sat down haphazardly, gesturing for you to do the same. When you did, he hummed, “you know, Lucius isn’t the only one holding you back from your full potential.”

“Who is then?” 

“Schlatt.” 

Schlatt’s name sent ice through your veins, your fingers growing numb and your throat drying up. 

Just as you opened your mouth to object, Dream raised a finger to silence you. “He can’t even run his own country that he claims to be so proud of. In fact, he’s making you do all his dirty work while he gets drunk off his ass, not even recognizing you for your work. Everything you’ll ever do, even if you half ass it, is always going to surpass him at his best... He’s going to fire you soon, you know.”

You felt truly helpless in that moment, “what? He needs me, he-”

“As soon as the war ends, he’s just going to toss you aside just like everyone else in your life has. Just like Philza has, and now just like Quackity, the Badlanders, and Lucius has. But…” 

He turned his head towards you and tilted it slightly. You hesitated before clearing your throat, “but what?” 

“I can help you. I won’t throw you out like you’re a piece of garbage; I’m not a brain dead idiot like they are. I see your potential, and you’re going to absolutely thrive if you accept my help.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, “...what’s the catch?” 

“Ever the vigilant one; so wary of the world at such a young age, so smart,” he chuckled to himself. “What you have to do is simple, not even a moron like Schlatt could fuck it up. I’ll do all the work here, all you have to do is pledge your undying loyalty to me. Of course, you could stay here,” he released a long sigh, “and waste your potential while simultaneously inevitably getting abandoned, or you could break the cycle by working with me and reaching your full potential; I’ll never abandon you like they all did. Are you in?” 

He stuck his hand out towards you and held it in the air, waiting for you to seal the deal. You stared at it as you contemplated his offer. 

Though the thought of Schlatt throwing you out crushed your heart, you wouldn’t be lying if you said you expected him to do so sooner or later. With his ever growing dependence on alcohol, his judgement has grown increasingly more clouded. The furthest corner of your mind acknowledged that he was going to abandon you sooner or later as the abuse got worse, but your conscious mind refused to even think about him not being in your life. 

Maybe it was time to turn a new leaf, Dream had said that you hadn’t reached your full potential yet and everything here was holding you back. You trusted him, he had proved to be a good mentor and a good person during your training sessions. He proved to genuinely care about you. 

“Well, are you in or not? I’d hate to see such potential get wasted because someone is stuck in the past.” 

You slapped your hand into his and shook it firmly, “I’m in.” 

His mask lifted up slightly as he smiled underneath it. He shook your hand and matched your firmness, “excellent.”

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng  @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester  @laura--444  @the-cult-classic-bitch  @youngstarfishdinosaur  @nottheotheruser  @ohworm-writes  @localwolfanon  @realitycanbeajerk  @v10dw4lk3r  @esylwen  @seraphsema  @boiled-onionrings  @smolgreenybeany  @louistommosnesquickmilk  @galaxios  @ryxjxnnx  @autumnpleaves  @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @0ton1n  @self-righteous-dumbass  @a-simp-for-block-people  @fortunatelylazystranger  @m1lkmandan  @mirios-sunflower  @ahmya-4  @shinipii  @noyasblush  @auroraskyfall  @cryptocry  @hee-hee-haw  @blackstar-gazer​

Gender neutral reader:

@totem-awooga  @parkeepingparker  @whatislifebutlemons

Sweet Betrayal:

@zefrenchturtle  @smolgreenybeany  @wouldyoulikesomepollen  @savleftus  @bonkaloid  @prickypearpropaganda  @marceline1212  @simp-of-newyork  @wasteofspacze  @mossanon  @hee-hee-haw  @keiarma  @expir3d-m1lk  @seraphsema  @aiyncel  @louistommosnesquickmilk  @xx-smiley-xx  @maelstromania  @miloisagoodboy  @boiciph3r  @izuruamme  @sticksdoesart  

#jschlatt x reader #quackity x reader #dream x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing #tw: blood #tw: manipulation #tw: grief #tw: death #tw: injury #tw: violence #sweet betrayal

[slafkovskys]

and ain’t no where that i’d be / t. zegras

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my masterlist!

title from what’s my name? by rihanna feat. drake

warning! please be advised that there is mature content below the cut

-

you were sitting in your bed when you got the notification. on the upper right corner of your screen, the messages banner popped up and your eyes scan over the words:

i’m picking you up and we’re fucking in the back of my car

it was simple, straight to the point, seemingly leaving no room for an argument. it causes your stomach to twist and your heart rate to increase.

you inhale sharply and stare at the message until it disappears. you weren’t even sure that you blinked. in the few seconds after, your cursor taunts you where it blinks. for most of the day, you’d been working on your schoolwork in an attempt to get ahead, but now, after reading what he had sent, the only words that you could focus on were his.

you didn’t respond because you knew that he knew that you wouldn’t object. you just close your laptop and set it aside before getting out of your bed. you walk over to your drawer to fish out some clothes other than your pajamas. you knew that he didn’t care what you wore and you knew that it wouldn’t be on very long, but you still wanted to try and look half decent. you hadn’t seen him in almost a month and, to be fair, you thought that he was going to break on day three. sure there were pictures sent back and forth and a couple of sessions over the phone, but you knew that would only keep him at bay for so long.

you took a quick shower too, using the body wash you knew he loved. you ran your hands through your hair before you grabbed your clothes. you put on your undergarments (red, lacy, dainty, undeniably his favorite on you) before covering them with a sweater and some soft shorts.

and then you waited.

you knew that he lived twenty minutes away and he did have a tendency to speed at times, but you didn’t know when he planned on leaving. your mind, still reeling from his text, races as you stare out of your window, anxiously watching for his car.

it wouldn’t be the first time you two had done it, sneak out to screw around that is, but now, especially under the circumstances, it just felt a little more nerve-wracking. a little more dangerous. a little more exciting.

it was a few minutes later that your phone lit up with a second message from him. he was down the block and waiting. you took a deep breath before walking over to your window and pushing it open. you slipped out and left it open a crack so you would be able to get back in before maneuvering your way down onto the ground.

your parents wanted you to sneak out, you concluded the first time you had done it. they put you in the room with a tree just outside the window that made it easy to make a break for it. that’s how you would justify it to yourself every time.

you walk around the side of your house and make your way down the driveway and towards where trevor would be parked. you both knew it wouldn’t be very smart for him to pull into your driveway like he usually would. it was way after midnight and you technically weren’t supposed to be going anywhere. plus, your mom would have a fit if she knew what you were doing.

you walk a few houses down before you spot trevor’s car. you slip in the passenger’s side and lean over to press your lips to his. your hand rests on his cheek, touching the skin you hadn’t been able to touch in weeks.

the kiss was hungry, rushed. you were making up for the lost time. he pulls away first and grabs a piece of your hair, wrapping it around his finger as a lazy smile graces his lips, “i missed you.”

“i missed you too, trev,” you smile, pressing your lips to his once more before leaning back in your seat. after you pull your seatbelt across your body, his hand finds yours as he pulls away from the sidewalk.

while he drove, you took your time to analyze him. he hadn’t put much effort into his look either, but he looked good nonetheless. he was wearing a hoodie and sweats and even had his glasses on. the glasses alone were enough to make you clench your legs together (which he, of course, felt you do and chuckled in response) because he always looked so damn good in them.

“where are we going?” you ask as he slows to a flashing red light. he checks to make sure nothing is coming before pulling forward.

“the spot,” he answers simply, providing no further explanation. it wasn’t necessary, you knew exactly where he was talking about. in the place of a verbal answer, you squeeze his hand.

it took some time before you got there. trevor pulled his car off the road and took you where he always did. “the spot” was a long-abandoned, wooded area just outside of town. the grass was tall and easy to sneak off into. it was a popular place for parties and hooking up. you likely weren’t the first two to come out here since lockdown had started and you wouldn’t be the last, but thankfully tonight, you were the only.

he kills the engine and looks at you. instead of giving him time to say anything, you surge forward and press your lips to his. just like when you had gotten in his car, the kiss was hungry. full of want, full of need.

“baby, i need you to get in the backseat,” he mumbles against your lips and you comply with a giggle. when you slip between the seats, you notice he had already put the back row of seats down.

you wait for him to join you in the back before smirking as you straddle his hips, “came prepared, huh?”

“couldn’t wait. needed you as soon as possible so i figured that i would save myself some time,” he says, gripping onto your hips as you rock forward against the prominent tent in his pants. “you’re just a tease aren’t you?”

“do you want me to stop?” you raise an eyebrow as you slip your hands under his hoodie and up his chest. he makes a noise and puts his hand on the back of your neck to pull you down. “didn’t think so.”

“cocky,” he mumbles before pressing his lips to yours. you let him indulge himself for a minute before you pull back and start to trail wet kisses down his neck. you find a spot on his neck and bite down, sucking a bruise into the skin. he grunts and slips his hands fully underneath your shirt. his fingers quickly find the lace of your bralette and he groans, “oh my- lace? jesus fucking-”

“just for you,” you pull back and strip off your shirt, throwing it to the side. his eyes rake over your body, taking you in before he sits up. he pulls you impossibly closer, trailing kisses across your collarbone before moving down. he pushes your strap down and his mouth wraps around your nipple. “trev,” you gasp, gripping onto the back of his neck and rocking forward.

with his mouth still working on your chest, his hand slips up your thigh and under the waistband of your shorts. once again, he groans as he feels the lace of your underwear, but he doesn’t hesitate to slip his hand under them and rub over your clit.

he collects some of your arousal on his fingers before pushing them inside, prepping you. your hand grabs onto his wrist at the shock and he pulls back, looking at you with slight concern, “are you okay baby?”

“yeah, trev. i’m-” you try and get your words out, “i’m good. just kind of got used to mine. keep going please.”

“okay baby. just let me know if you need a break or want to stop okay,” he waits for your verbal confirmation before slipping his fingers back in and crooking them. you whine, burying your head in his neck. “that’s my girl. so responsive. did you miss my fingers?”

“yeah,” you mumble against his neck, mouthing at the skin. “mine aren’t the same, aren’t as long. don’t reach like yours.”

“i know. we won’t be doing that again. can’t let my girl go that long without me,” he assures, adding a third while his thumb works at your clit. “let’s get your shorts off, pretty girl. you think you’re ready?”

“can’t wait anymore. need you,” you respond, helping take your shorts and thong off. you go to unclip your bralette, but trevor stops you, asking you to leave it. you help him push his sweatpants down, giggling at his lack of boxers.

“as i said, needed you as soon as- fuck!” he cuts himself off with a groan as you wrap your hand around his member and start to go up and down. “condom’s- wallet.”

“classy,” you mumble as if you weren’t about to have sex in the middle of the night at a well-known hookup spot.

you find his wallet and pull out the condom. you rip it open and roll it down, hovering on top of him. you raise an eyebrow as his hands settle on your waist, “you good?”

“yeah, you?” he asks breathlessly. you nod and press your lips to his as you sink down, swallowing his moans. you sigh as he settles fully inside, thankful to finally be full. “baby, god, you’re so fucking gorgeous. love you so much.”

“how are you cum dumb if you haven’t even cum yet?” you tease against his lips, clenching around him.

he groans, “because i’ve been jacking off to pictures of your tits for about a month now. sue me.”

“and they say that chivalry is dead,” you sigh, raising up and planting your hands on his chest to help with leverage. you raise up and sink back down, finding your pace. trevor was always noisy in bed and this time was no different even though you weren’t actually in bed. you can’t help but chirp him, “what? does that feel good?”

he’s quick to snap open his eyes. he moves his hand from your hip to wrap around your neck and squeeze. you gasp and clench around him. “what?” he teases, knowing damn well what he was doing, “does that feel good?”

“fucking- hate- you,” he thrusts between each of your words causing them to be broken and barely comprehensible. he chuckles and forces your head down to kiss him as he continues to meet your thrusts. you hook your fingers in his chain to pull him forward to meet you in the middle as your teeth clash against each other. your tongues quickly find each other and you let him win that battle. it wasn’t long before you knew that both of you were closing in on a release. “i’m-”

“i know baby, me too. together yeah?” he asks and you nod, keeping your foreheads pressed together. just as you suspected, it didn’t take long before you were reaching your highs. he emptied into the condom while you spilled around him with a moan. “so good, baby.” his lips press against your shoulder as you continue to rock forward to ride out your high, “you’re so fucking good baby.”

once you calm down, you finally press a soft kiss to his lips, “that was good, trev. thank you.”

“you don’t have to thank me,” he chuckles, helping you off of his lap. he carefully pulls off the condom and ties it off, leaving it to be dealt with later as you both reach around the confined space, collecting your clothes “do you wanna-”

the sound of your phone ringing startles you both. you share a confused look before you reach into the front seat to grab it and answer, “hello?”

“y/n,” your sister’s voice is bored as she speaks, “this is just a courtesy call. mom knows and she’s looking for you.”

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