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megamindsecretlair · 3 months

Note

Hey, since you made a Fic where Tyrone was a vampire, Could you do one where he’s a demon the reader does a deal with. He does the reader a favour and exchange, he has a night with them?

A/N: Whew. I'm trying to get to some of these requests! Forgive me for taking so long!

With This Sin

Pairing: Demon!Tyrone x Spooky!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Use of pet names. There is a power imbalance, there is a sexual favor being exchanged, but it's consensual. Use of magic. Mentions of Hell. ONE SHOT.

Summary: See ask. You found a spell in a thrift store and decided to try it, not knowing if it would work or not. When it does, you're unprepared for what awaits you.

Word Count: 5,242k

A/N: I hope ya'll ain't think I forgot about my baby. He just needed some rest. He been working overtime these past few months, LOL. Who's ready for more spooky Tyrone? I've been teasing this so long that it felt like I was the only one excited. Ah well, LOL. Sorry about the wait, but I hope you enjoy! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

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You checked and double checked the incantations, the warnings, and the ingredients you gathered. The spell was written on old parchment and the wrinkly paper crinkled in your hand as you smoothed it out. Reading by a full moon was hard, but you didn’t want to damage the paper further.

When you found it in the thrift shop, you knew it was special. While you didn’t truly think this could work, why not try it? You had nothing to do and your friends were off being boring bitches at the club, shaking ass for lame fuck boys who didn’t have the dick to back up all their talk.

The blades of grass sank beneath your knees as you fidgeted. You were nervous. Of course you were nervous. What if it really did work? What if?

A quiet breeze caressed your exposed shoulders in your tank top. The instructions were too faint to see what else you were supposed to wear. You opted for a long skirt to protect your skin from any creepy crawlies in the ground. You loved nature, but not that much.

You stood up from the ground and rechecked the circle you made. According to the spell, you were to spend all month collecting interesting rocks, seashells, pebbles, or whatever else that was shiny and happened to catch your eye. You made one giant circle, big enough to hopefully contain what you were going to summon.

At the directional gates, you placed items of great value to you. You placed a necklace handed down to you at the North gate, a rook from a chess set at the West gate, a yo-yo at the East gate, and a photo of your grandmother at the South gate. You walked the circle to ensure that there were no gaps that the demon could slip through. No loopholes it could worm its way past.

The only thing left to do was…the actual spell. You took a few deep breaths, listening to the music of the meadow you were in. Finding this open place, away from nosy passersby, under direct moonlight, was a challenge and a half. You were about to give up when you found this place.

There were sounds of chirping, crickets, and the breeze playing in the giant trees overhead. Your breathing slowed until it matched the natural rhythm of the space around you. Your feet were bare and your toes burrowed into the grass. Your hands were spread, fingers wiggling to ground yourself in your body.

Here it goes…

You began the spell, chanting the exact words from the parchment. You studied it so many times, consulting several pronunciation websites, that you knew it by heart. You needed clear speech, clear thought, and intent in order to accomplish your goal.

At first nothing happened. You kept going, watching the circle intently for any hint of a change. By the third stanza of the spell, the air before you shimmered like heat off of asphalt. Your heart leapt in your chest but you didn’t stop. You continued, focusing all of your energy to summoning a demon with enough power to accomplish your goal.

The air split, like two hands poked through and ripped the fabric of reality. Red smoke seeped through, spilling into the circle and brushing against the boundary of the circle. You watched for any areas it might seep through. It held.

It was working! Your heart worked double time, too excited to contain it in your chest. A grin crossed your face, eyes opened wider. You didn’t want to miss a thing.

Out of the smoke, there was movement. There was so much red smoke, you couldn’t see what was coming out. Were there tentacles? Bones? Husks? Was it a meat suit? It could be anything.

On the last stanza, your voice rose. Amplified in the meadow. The birds stopped chittering. The breeze increased, blowing against you and making you sway. You continued. Mother Nature herself was watching what you were bringing into this world. Trying to stop you with the first element available to her.

You planted your feet, hoping she wouldn’t open the ground beneath you and swallow you down to Hell. You were more of a cold weather type of girly. Plus you’d miss ice cream too much.

The final word dropped from your lips as a booming crack ripped through the open sky. You looked above for any sign of thunder or lightning.

The sound of a sigh brought your attention to the circle. There stood…a man? He rolled his neck, stretched his arms as if he were waking from a long nap. He walked around the circle. Beyond him, the split in the air was still open, spilling that red smoke. The man kicked it up as he walked the around it.

Power radiated off of him. It made you take a few steps back as you were staggered by it. The sheer magnitude of it was impressive and only your little circle kept him in line.

He reached out his hand, pulling his hand back as if the boundary hurt him. You licked your lips and watched him. You did it! But what exactly did you do? Your impressions of demons were ugly, winged creatures with clawed feet and devil horns.

This guy was…just a guy. He had thick, coiled hair. Wide lips. He wore black sunglasses, a black suit with a black turtleneck underneath. A gold chain was the brightest thing on him, glistening in the moonlight. His rich ebony skin was flawless. High cheekbones.

“Not bad, human. Not bad,” he said. His voice was like sin personified. His voice invited all kinds of dirty fantasies, dark thoughts, and naughty ideas. It reached down into your core and rubbed against it like a cat.

You placed a hand over your chest to calm it down. It should not have that type of effect on you. And yet…as far as demons went, he was damn handsome. You knew why devils were portrayed by the hottest people now. You’d almost sell your soul too if it meant you could hear more.

He faced you, looking at you over the top of his sunglasses. His eyes were slanted like cat’s eyes, a mix of orange and red. It was the only outward sign of his otherworldliness. His presence alone nearly choked you.

“You’re really a…demon,” you said.

He grinned, showing off a neat row of teeth. The smile made your knees weak. You had to step in place to knock some sense back into yourself.

“Demon is such a human word,” he said.

“So what do you call yourselves then?” You asked.

“You can’t pronounce it,” he said, the grin never leaving his face.

You rolled your eyes. “Sure,” you said. “What’s your name then?”

He chuckled, the sound smooth and slow as molasses. “Do you not know how this works, little human? Are you playing with grandma’s cookbook again?”

You folded your arms. “To be honest, I didn’t think this was going to work,” you said. You approached the circle but kept a respectful distance. Just because he seemed to be confined, didn’t mean he actually was. He could be trying to play you. Fool you. Trick you. Any minute he could step over a gate and snatch you up, killing you dead.

You walked around the circle. He continued to face forward. The suit jacket hid his backside, but there was plenty of moonlight overhead to highlight his features. When you made it back to his front, he tilted his head and licked his lips.

“What year is it?” He asked.

“2024,” you answered.

He tilted his head back towards the moonlight as if he were soaking it up. He merely sniffed the air, breathed deeply. Guess that answered the question on if he needed to breathe. If Hell or wherever he was from had oxygen.

“Been a long time since I’ve been summoned. Your kind has forgotten why they’re scared of the dark. Your funny little lights and machines to scare away the big, bad, shadows creeping through the world,” he said.

“According to this, I summon you and I get to ask for anything I want in exchange for a sacrifice. A sacrifice of great detriment to me that does not result in loss of limb, life, or otherwise get permanently maimed or disfigured?” You asked.

The man ran his tongue across his teeth, looking at you with renewed interest. He pushed his glasses up his face and placed a hand in the air like a mime. He pushed against the boundary as if there really was a wall right there. He leaned forward and tilted his head.

“Little human’s done her homework,” he said. “I’m not in that type of business. Blood, gore, and the like don’t excite me.”

“What does excite you?” You didn’t intend for that to sound flirty. Or like an invitation. Your voice naturally dipped, became sultry, breathy.

He licked his lips slowly. You couldn’t see his eyes but you got the sense that he was paying attention to you. To the way your breathing increased, chest rising and falling a bit quicker. What else would he notice? What else could he see? Sense? You had a million questions but the full moon only lasted so long.

“Well? What is it that you desire?” He asked.

“I want money,” you said. The man grinned but you continued, undeterred. “I want billions of generational money that sets up me and my descendants for thousands of years. It can never be taken away, stolen, conned, given away, or the target of nefarious conspiracies.” You added more caveats, things you didn’t consider before but had to.

You didn’t care if it was shallow. You didn’t care if it was selfish. You didn’t care that this was a petty fucking reason to summon a demon and play with the natural order of the world. You were tired. Tired in your soul.

Your ancestors’ weariness was engraved in each bone in your body. You came from kings and queens. Entire Black ass empires that were world leaders in education, medicine, and agriculture. Thousands of years of dignity, unity, and a beautiful culture. Until four hundred years of bullshit that you were still paying for. Fighting for crumbs.

Your black ass was tired. Tired of the struggle bus. Tired of working and working with nothing to show for it. The powers in charge worked tirelessly to keep their boot on your neck. To keep your children poor and their children even poorer. So what if you wanted to game the system? Who the hell was gon’ stop you?

The man laughed. A deep rumbling laugh that started in his chest and echoed as it came out of his mouth. “I like you,” he said.

The smile was on your face before you realized that you should not be that happy that a demon liked you. This whole scene was surreal but if he could truly deliver? You and your people were set for thousands of years. And you weren’t going to keep it entirely to yourself.

You were going to help your friends, charity, start scholarships, all kinds of rewards for Black kids. You were going to pay their tuition, sponsor their businesses; you were going to be the Black Mary Poppins. You were going to upset the financial sector to the point that you’d have them mu’fuckas shaking in their boots to see what you would do next.

“So how does this work? Do you snap your fingers and boom, my bank account is rolling in money? Do you create the money? Can I take it from decrepit old white men who really shouldn’t be alive at this point?” You asked.

The man straightened up and put his hands in his pockets. He looked up at the moon overhead. Soon, it would begin its next phase, transitioning away from a completely full moon. The parchment mentioned something of a time limit. Sort of like Cinderella. There was only so much time that Mother Nature would allow an intruder in her space.

“Does your little paper explain how I give you what you want?” He asked. “An ask like this requires a lot of power.”

“Power you don’t have?” You asked.

He rocked on his heels and grinned. “I have the power. But nothing is free. When I work in this…realm, let’s just say I need something to bond to.”

“Something like…?”

He grinned and stared at you, you assumed. For all you knew, he was watching TV behind those glasses. Though you didn’t think so. He was too intense. Too focused. Too in tune with this dance between you.

He waited there so long that your nerves got the best of you. “What do you need to bond to?”

“Moments of heightened emotion. There’s power in anger, desperation, love…desire,” he said.

You scoffed and shook your head. “Sex? You’re saying you need to have sex with me in order to grant my request?”

“If that’s where your mind went, who am I to argue?” He asked.

A strangled, garbled sound left you. There was no way…there was no earthly way that you would open your body up to a demon just for you to get money. You weren’t a sex worker. You respected the profession but you needed a little more loving before you opened your legs. Certainly not to a supernatural being. No matter how many times your pussy fluttered whenever he spoke or the twinge of excitement low in your belly whenever he smirked or smiled.

“How do I even know you can do what you claim? You could be a liar,” you said.

He nodded. “I can give you a demonstration. A kiss?”

You folded your arms across your chest, feeling entirely too exposed all of a sudden. But…an errant, naughty thought bounced in your mind.

What if it did work? Wouldn’t that be worth it? You and your people would have security. Something no one – other than rich people – got. You’d be able to live a life of luxury and leisure. Spending your days enjoying life, rather than stuck at a 9-5 you hated. Broke down, beat down, and old before you reached thirty-five.

You stepped forward. “You can’t cross the line, but I can and no harm can befall me in the circle I created,” you said. “Right?”

He sighed. “You was one of them teacher’s pets weren’t you?”

“I like to be prepared.” This was insane. This was wrong. This was so beyond fucked up that you should banish him and find some other way to get what you wanted. But hell, if nothing else, you had a wild story to tell at parties. No one would believe you fucked a demon, but they didn’t have to.

You took a deep breath and made sure to step over the circle of stones and shells and not through it. The man smiled as you stepped onto his side. His powerful aura was even more intense inside of the circle. As if he contained the combined might and power of all eight planets and their density was going to crush you.

It was a bit hard to breathe around it. You began to pant as if you ran three marathons, weak and swaying. The man rubbed his hands together and his power began to recede. You hunched over, hands on your knees, as you sucked in more oxygen.

There was still red smoke seeping from the gaping wound in the world, but you stayed far away from it. The last thing you needed was to be stuck on the other side. If you did survive, you had no way of getting back.

He waited patiently as you regained some strength. You straightened up slowly, testing your body by shaking out your limbs. You were okay, you were okay.

“I don’t even know what to call you,” you said. “If I’m going to give you my body, I ought to know your name.”

He smiled. “You may call me Tyrone,” he said.

As far as names went, it wasn’t a bad thing. At least it was nothing crazy like Aurelius. Tyrone seemed to suit him for some reason. Besides his eyes, he could fit in with any other Black man off the street today. Then again, no one would mistake him for human if he walked past them.

He walked closer to you. It took all of your willpower not to move. He reached out with a hand and ran it up your arm. You shivered from his touch. A full body shiver that almost set your teeth to chattering. But you felt it like a deep pull low in your belly.

He leaned in closer, taking a deep audible breath. You closed your eyes, the moment calling for a type of intimacy you couldn’t see with your eyes. You could only feel as he moved his nose across your cheek. Stepped closer and brought his chest closer to yours. He was incredibly warm. Waves of heat dripping off of him and making you forget that you were standing in the middle of a meadow.

He brought his lips closer to yours but didn’t kiss you yet. Your lips parted, waiting for the contact. He paused, on the precipice of kissing you.

Moving felt like it would break the moment. Destroy this bubble. You found yourself leaning forward, impatient for his lips. You felt him smile before he closed the gap and touched his lips to yours.

You gasped as power flooded through him to you by this small contact. It was as if you jumped into a pool of static. Electricity danced along your skin and underneath. He didn’t move his lips or seek more. He stood there, not touching you or pulling you closer.

The power became unbearable and he finally pulled away. It seemed like it took ages for your eyes to open. You gasped, a deep lungful of air that burned your lungs. The world seemed sharper or clearer. As if you had been blind your entire life and suddenly could see.

He seemed to glow with some inner light that gave him a fuzzy outline. You looked towards the meadow and the green seemed more vibrant. The colors brighter. The glow bugs and birds looking down at you from the trees were curious little things. You could count how many feathers were on their tiny bodies.

“Check your little box,” he said.

His deep voice snapped you out of your rambling thoughts. You fished around your pockets for your phone. You pulled up your banking app. Your account had a few more commas in it and you clutched your chest seeing it.

“Oh shit!” You screamed. You screamed some more and looked at him. “Shit! Shit!”

He chuckled and moved closer still. His lips caressed your cheek, temple, and moved closer to your ear. “Imagine what I could do with more than a kiss,” he said.

You dropped your phone to the ground. With that kind of money, you could buy an entire phone company. You could buy several. You moved your head and looked at him. He still wore his glasses so you reached up to remove them. He leaned back and cocked his head to the side.

“Are you sure? I can become whatever you want. What tickles your pussy? Wolves? Lions? The latest celebrity fucktoy?”

“You. If I’m being honest,” you said. Now that you allowed yourself to feel the attraction and not just dismiss it, it was screaming at you from all sides that he was gorgeous. That he was unlike anything else you had ever seen or would see. Being with him would change your life on a fundamental level.

Accepting him into your body would change you atom by atom and you were perfectly fine with it. You continued to remove his glasses, taking in his strange eyes. He grinned as you did so.

His fingers lightly grazed your skin as he lifted the hem of your shirt. You helped him take it off of you. You wore no bra underneath and Tyrone greedily looked at your titties. He held each one in each of his hands and kneaded your flesh. Playing with your soft, squishy mounds and running his thumbs across your nipples.

Your growing desire pooled in your panties and you squirmed from his questing hands. He held you reverently, like a goddess and he was a mere supplicant. He either dialed back his power or it only happened when his lips touched yours. While your skin tingled from the earlier contact, you didn’t feel like you were going to jump right out of your bones.

His hands continued to play with your titties. He pinched your nipples between his fingers and you gasped, a tiny whine leaving your mouth. He grinned and did it again, not stopping until he elicited that same whine from you.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you said.

Tyrone captured your lips with his. Power ebbed and flowed between you and it wasn’t as intense as before. This you could stand. You appreciated even that bit of effort.

His hands moved downwards, playing with your tummy and squeezing. “You’re so soft,” he whispered against your lips. “I could get lost in you.” His tongue played with yours, quietly seeking entry into your mouth.

“Fuck,” you moaned. His big, rough hands were the perfect contrast against your smooth skin. He continued to move downward, pushing your skirt and panties down to pool at your feet.

You moved his jacket off of him. You took your time removing his shirt as well. He wasn’t gross underneath. You blew out a tiny sigh. Surely, he had to be anatomically correct if he got his rocks off seducing people that summoned him.

He had a solid, muscle-bound stomach that you could bounce a quarter off of if he flexed. His arms were huge. And felt like rock underneath your hands. His pants were next, flowing down over strong hips, thick thighs, and long legs. You wanted to take a bite out of his ass.

Now you were both naked, both gripping at each other’s bodies like you didn’t know where to start first. Where to kiss or grab or lick. You settled on licking his chest to see if he tasted as good as he looked. He tasted even better. The chain around his neck was settled like a weight around his neck. You played with it, while he dropped his head to your shoulders and kissed you there.

He nibbled on your skin while your hands traveled over his body. He didn’t need to pour his magic all over you in order for you to feel dizzy with desire. You were shaking with the burning need to take him. To ride him. Your hands cupped the length of him and you froze.

That…couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be that damn big. Your mouth dropped open as your hand continued to stroke him. He was long and thick, with a nice bulbous head that leaked precum. You…were in danger.

As if reading your thoughts, he dropped to his knees and took you with him. You gasped, finding a blanket beneath you now. You saw hints of red around the red smoke. Giving the illusion that you were sitting on a bed of red clouds in the sky.

He pushed you onto your back and gripped your knees. He grinned, eyes seeming to glow, as he pried your legs apart. You moaned, gyrating on the softest blanket you’d ever felt. It was a bit fuzzy and felt amazing on your back.

Was the red smoke full of an aphrodisiac? Because you felt like your skin was going to burn off unless he did something. Anything to your body besides kiss and nibble on it. You were growing needier by the second. He massaged your thighs as he took in the sight of your dripping pussy.

He dropped to his stomach. No words. No warning. He flattened his tongue out and licked you from your entrance to your clit and you moaned, loud and desperate. “Oh fuck! Tyrone, please,” you said.

“Please what, little human?” He asked. He returned to licking you, suckling at the sweet nectar your body produced. You trembled in his hands, trying to close your legs against his delicious mouth. It was too much!

Words left you as you surrendered to the pleasure. To the incredible, out of body experience you were having. His shoulders were too big to close against. He moved a little higher to ensure that you could not deny him your body. Could not deny the passion and desire flowing out of you and filling him up like a battery.

He moved his arms up to grab onto your nipples once more and roll them between his fingers. Your body arched off of the ground. “Oh fuck! Ouee, fuck, right there,” you moaned.

His tongue flicked your clit and you were soon making teetering wails. You came with a viciously loud, echoing moan. If there was anyone nearby, they’d certainly hear you. Hear your screams in the meadow as this demon licked, sucked, and moaned into your pussy.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, trying to push or fight him off. As if that would help with the intense pleasure you were feeling. Like the orgasm couldn’t be contained in your body. Like it had to be let out somehow but was restricted by the confines of your skin.

Tyrone’s gold chain was cold against your skin, but did little to help. Did little to help pull you back to reality. Eventually, your body did take over and you calmed down from such an intense feeling.

Tyrone kissed up your body, leaving wet kisses on your lower belly and between your breasts. He suckled one nipple into his mouth before continuing up and capturing your lips. Fuck, you smelled divine on his lips. Tasted just as good on his tongue. He kissed your jaw and your neck, licking the delicate skin there.

Your bottom lip quivered. You were still so needy for him. Needing to be filled. You were hollow. Empty. There was no existence in this life worth a damn unless he was sliding that piece of art he had in between your legs.

“Please, Tyrone. Please, it hurts so bad. I need you inside me,” you begged.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. He tugged on your neck with his teeth and you cried out, gyrating your hips against his.

“Please, please. I can’t stand it anymore,” you cried. Your voice wobbled a bit as tears gathered in your eyes. You were drunk with lust. Out of your mind. “Please.”

Tyrone lifted onto his hands and moved his knees forward. It pushed your thighs back until you were nearly folded in half. He watched you as he moved his hips and moved his dick against your wet folds.

You moaned from that alone. You sniffled, a few tears finally escaping your eyes and trailing down the side of your face and into your hair. You just needed to be complete. To be filled up. To have him…

“Oh fuck,” you rasped. He pushed inside with one hard thrust, cutting off your insane line of thinking.

You clutched him to you as if you could absorb him into your body. You’d have to settle for the fact that he was as close as possible already. You bit his shoulder because there wasn’t enough air to scream.

He moved his hips in hard, deep strokes that made you hike your legs higher. Scratch at his back. Your titties bounced with each stroke and he licked his lips.

Every few strokes, he’d drop down into a push up and suck a nipple into his mouth. He alternated between the two so each one got as much attention as the other. He rolled the sensitive little buds between his teeth, pushing you into another orgasm.

On the heels of that one ending, he pushed you into another. Curses fell from your mouth like sparks from fireworks lighting up the sky. You looked towards the moon as Tyrone possessed you. Claimed you. Ruined you here right in this meadow.

He licked the swell of your breasts as moans and grunts escaped him as well. As he closed his eyes and lost himself inside you. He groaned as he nutted, filling you to the brim with his cum.

You came at the same time, widening your eyes as you looked at him. He looked at you as if you held all the secrets of the universe. Staring like he lived or died on your word. A different kind of power flowed between you. Something unnameable. Sacred. Cherished.

He grunted as he spilled every last drop and then removed himself from between your legs. That desperate clinginess from earlier began to dissipate. You huffed, falling back against the blanket and stared up at the night sky.

“You will have all that you asked for,” he said. He was out of breath, same as you. You felt like you had been irrevocably changed. Unmade. Made in his image. He turned on his side and pulled you into him.

You turned to face him. You both laid there and panted, coming down from this incredible bond. “Thank you,” you whispered to him.

“The gratitude belongs with me, little human. I’ve never…experienced something like that before,” he said. He grinned. You couldn’t resist kissing him some more.

You began to tremble from the cold. He stole the heat right out of your body. He rubbed your arms, side, and ass, any bits he could get his hands on.

You saw the look in his eyes before he said a word. “I know you have to go. It’s okay,” you said.

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. He called your name softly. You weren’t even going to ask how he knew it at this point. Maybe he could read minds or something in the spell allowed him to know you. But he kissed each of your fingers and looked at you.

“You ever think of anything else you want, you know how to reach me,” he said.

You giggled and rolled your eyes. Yeah right. You could not have a standing monthly date with a fucking demon. Though the idea wasn’t without merit. How in the hell were you supposed to ride a mediocre dick after this?

His lips returned to yours, lazy, sloppy things that made you giggle and gasp in between. He kissed you until the very last second, the pull of the moon signaling the end of your time together. You sat up and watched him as he stepped back through the gap in the world. He blew you a kiss and disappeared inside. It sealed itself behind him and you laid back down on the soft grass, staring up and up.

You would never meet someone like Tyrone. And you feared that you’d search for him everywhere now. In every blade of grass, flower bloomed, star that blinked, or whenever you heard a song that reminded you of him. You only hoped that wherever he was, he spared a thought for you as well.

The end.

Well, well. If you need some more after that, you're in luck! The Secret Tyrone Files

134 notes · View notes

dbs-scans · 1 year

Text

Minamoto Supernatural Detective Agency — April Fool’s Day 2023

April Fool’s! Nah, this one’s the real deal—here’s a translated archive of the event hosted on AidaIro’s twitter during April of 2023.

Day 1

“Hello, you’ve reached the Minamoto Supernatural Detective Agency—” “Oh, it's just you, Kou. Yes, of course.” “All right, I'll see you at 8 PM.”

Click! Booop, booop....

Day 2

Somewhere in the city lies an ultra-famous detective agency that boasts a terrifying case-solving rate...

[Teru] “Welcome, I've been expecting you.” “I look tired, you say? Haha, I've been working on a big case that came in yesterday.” “But I have plans to go on break tomorrow, and I'm used to pulling all-nighters, so don't worry about me.” “You reporters are just as busy, right?”

“I've collected the info pertaining to the Ryokan Case over there.” “Huh? You don't know where I mean? Sorry, I've been so busy that I haven't had a chance to organize everything.” “All my other case files are scattered around... but I won't mind if you search through them for it.”

Various items have been scattered throughout the detective agency. What interests you is the...

POLL:

Old Flier

Strange Magazine

Dirtied Diary ✅

Left-on TV

It's a diary with a cute design. It's terribly dirty, as if someone had dropped it somewhere. You can see a footprint left behind where somebody stepped on it.

Everyday events have been written inside with neat handwriting: “The potted flowers we planted bloomed today.” “Went out with a friend.” “I spotted a cute cat.”

...But the diary entries abruptly cut off, and a message written in another person's hand-writing has been left behind: “Go Away.”

[Teru] “Ahh, that's unrelated to the ryokan.” “A client asked me to locate the diary of someone precious to them.” “I did find it, but as you can see... her work environment was rather poor.” “She set her sights on a new career path, and left to do field research, but I'm not sure where...”

――Knock Knock! “Hm?” “Looks like somebody's here. Is it another job request...?”

[Akane] “Oh, there's a guest here. Hello.” “I came to pick up something I left behind before I leave! I'm going on a trip with my childhood friend!” “A vacation to the hot springs, all by ourselves... I can't squander this. I've finally made it...” “Enjoy working on your day off, Chief! See ya!”

[Teru] “A hot springs vacation with his childhood friend, huh...” “Oh, that was one of our staff members. It seems he's going to be taking some time off, as well.”

Now, where should I check next?

POLL:

Old Flier

Strange Magazine ✅

Left-on TV

A mysterious magazine titled Monthly MO has been left here. There’s a bookmark inside. A special report on cryptids...?

[Teru] “Reports of cryptids at the ryokan are almost never-ending.” “If you go there, try seeing if you can catch one. You might earn some extra pocket money if you do.” “Haha, I'm just kidding, of course.”

Now, what’s next? 🐈The investigation continues tomorrow at 8PM🐈

POLL:

Old Flier

Left-on TV

Cassette Tape ✅

Day 3

It's an old cassette tape. I'll try playing it. ...It's a man recounting how he was spirited away as a child and wandered into a mysterious ryokan in the mountains. He sounds oddly happy about the experience.

“...and that was how I returned to human civilization.” “I'll never forget the girl who helped me to escape from there. Never ever~!”

“She told me ‘you must never come back here again,’ but it's my dream to return one day and be reunited with her.” “If it meant being with a beauty like her, then I’d do anything—I’d even become a cat...!!!”

[Teru] “To be attracted to someone that isn't even human? What a freak.” “I can't relate at all.”

Now, what should I check next?

POLL:

Old Flier

Left-on TV ✅

The 12 o'clock news is on. It appears that the children of the leaders of the East and West yakuza organizations have gone to dinner together. Rumor has it that they're considering an arranged marriage to unite the criminal underworld.

“Now this is just plain dumb. A political marriage, in this day 'n age?”

“Wait, you don't want to get married?” “Huh?”

[Teru] “Wow, they'll make a news report on just about anything.” “I'll change the channel~”

Now, what’s next? 🐈The investigation continues tomorrow at 8PM🐈

POLL:

Old Flier

Old Newspaper Clipping ✅

Day 4

It's a newspaper clipping from 50 years ago. During a national tour, a popular circus troupe had their tent burst into flames in the middle of the night and burn to the ground.

Officially, the cause of the fire is unknown, but on that night, two small figures were spotted fleeing from the scene of the crime. However, there was only one child registered with the circus troupe at the time—a single animal handler, who went missing after the incident. The child was known for doting on his pet black cat.

[Teru] “Rumor has it there's someone at the ryokan who looks exactly like the child who went missing, completely unchanged over the years.” “I wonder what that means...?”

Now all that's left is the old flier.

There's a tattered, yellowed flier lying around—a notice for a lost cat. It appears the cat went missing over ten years ago...

[Teru] “What a big cat. Cute, isn't she?” “They said she was a strange cat who would dance on nights of the full moon.” “Apparently they never found her... but lately, I've heard reports that a cat with similar characteristics was spotted near the ryokan.”

I've finished surveying the results of the agency's investigation. Now, for the final step, I'll ask for information concerning the person I'm looking for. 🐈 The final investigation begins tomorrow at 8 PM 🐈

Day 5

This is what the person I'm looking for left behind. I've brought it here with me.

[Teru] “About that coworker of yours who disappeared, the photographer...” “So far we haven't found any concrete proof that kid is staying at the ryokan.” “It's possible he might have disappeared of his own free will...”

That's what the guys at work all said. That he ran out on us 'cause the job’s too hard. But...

He'd never go off and leave his camera behind. Something must have happened to him out there...

[Teru] “I see. In that case, you should trust your intuition.” “Even if there's no evidence to support it, there's still a chance he could be there.”

“...And with that, I believe we’ve gone through everything that my investigation turned up.” “So what's your next move? There isn’t much left to do except actually going to the ryokan itself.” “If you hire me, I can tag along and...”

[Teru] “Oh, you're going alone? Since you don't want to bother me when I'm on vacation?” “But you know, they'll probably be less suspicious if we go together... Have you already got a ticket?” “Oh... You're so responsible, Kou. Your big brother is very proud of you.” “Okay, see you. Be careful out there.”

[Teru] “......” “A trip to the hot springs, huh?” “Not like I've got anything better to do. Maybe I’ll go, too.”

📺⚡

BZzT zzzZzZT......

🐈

"Human society brings endless pain and suffering~♪" "The youth of today with nowhere to belong feel nothing but frustration~♪"

"Let the hot spring's waters wash your troubles away~♪"

"And let your bellies be satisfied by our tasty food~♪"

"So come on down—" "To the Bakeneko Ryokan Hanako-tei!" 🐈 The End 🐈

#april fool's day #aidairo #jibaku shounen hanako kun #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk #jibaku shonen hanako kun #twitter #tweet translation

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artbyjessicajewett · 9 months

Text

Hi everyone! I wanted to introduce myself. I'm Jessica and I was a previous user of Tumblr before it was bought. I decided to come back.

Today I'm not so much a fandom person (my first account was a Supernatural and Destiel vibe) as I am living my "real" life as an artist, author, historian, and disability rights activist. I'll be 42 in February and I live on the border of Ohio and West Virginia - like, literally on the border. I can almost throw a rock and hit West Virginia from my apartment building. Living here after spending over twenty years in Georgia has been a fresh change. Georgia is not a great place for people with complex disabilities like mine. I get much better medical care and access to state services here in Ohio, which is why I came here. My ancestry is Appalachian anyway, so this does feel like home in a strange way.

My art is what I do the most. This is me doing a commission order a few years ago.

You're immediately wondering about my disability and why I do everything with the tools in my mouth. I was born with a condition called Arthrogryposis and that just simply means my joints have very little range of motion. Much of my body is stiff. So I taught myself to play with my toys, markers, etc., with my mouth rather than my hands before I could even read or go to school. It was natural for me. I live a happy life and I'm not upset about being born with this disability. You don't have to feel sorry for me because I don't feel sorry for me.

At this stage in my life, I'm working on art commission number 91 with about 50 more on my wait list. My work specializes in black and white pencil portraits, mostly of different historical periods. Most of the art people order from me has to do with my ability to interpret their previous lifetimes (yes, reincarnation) as well as introducing them to their spirit guides. I do regular art with no spiritual complex as well, like family portraits, friends portraits, pet portraits, architecture, fan art, original characters, some fantasy, witchcraft, folk magic, paranormal, historical events, etc. I'm heavily trained in realistic very detailed portraits, so if you're looking for anime or cute illustrations, I'm probably not your woman.

This is the last commission I finished.

This is an interpretation of that customer's spirit guide as they appeared before they died. This is "my style" of art, as they say. I like to do color art too but I finish black and white orders much faster.

Besides art, I'm a lifelong student of 19th century history in America focusing on women's roles, families, social issues, disability history, and LGBTQIA+ history. I was in school to specifically become an antebellum and Civil War historian before chronic illnesses forced me to drop out. Higher education 20+ years ago was a casserole of nonsense when it came to helping disabled students succeed. Don't get me started.

I'm also a lifelong paranormal researcher focusing mostly on hauntings tied to antebellum and Civil War America including old folklore. My mother and grandmother were Missouri folk magic practitioners. I was raised in an understanding of the unseen world. I also collect reincarnation cases from the Civil War period sparked by my own case from that time. I'll talk about that elsewhere if you want.

Follow me here if you like. I'm just getting started. I have to relearn how to use this app.

-Jessica

Shop: etsy.com/shop/ArtByJessicaJewett

If you're not interested in art, I also accept tips if you enjoy my content. I'm at $ArtByJessicaJewett on CashApp, at Jessica-Jones-1002 on Venmo, and PayPal.me/ArtByJessicaJewett on PayPal.

#art #writing #history #commission #portraits #disabled #artbyjessicajewett

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communistkenobi · 3 months

Note

im an undergrad student who was thinking about specializing in studying fascist movements in North America for my masters and ive really enjoyed reading your book commentary - you connect things that I'm not always aware of in ways that are really comprehensive and appreciate

Do you know of any researchers who are moving things on the topic right now (most of the books ive read are around 20+ years old, unfortunately)?

(sorry if any of this is unclear/grammatically incorrect/weirdly worded - I'm super sick rn)

thank you! I'm really glad to hear that :)

For contemporary writing, I'm currently working through some of Alberto Toscano's work - he has a really interesting article from 2021 on fascism from a Black radical/Marxist perspective where he summarizes various historical analyses of fascism from Black (particularly US) thinkers and activists. One thing I especially appreciate is that he complicates Aime Cesaire's formulation of fascism (i.e., "european colonialism come home") as incomplete when applied to settler colonial contexts, especially the United States - one of Cesaire's articulations of fascism is that (to paraphrase) "one fine day, the prisons begin to fill up, the Gestapo gets busy" and so on, and Toscano, working through Angela Davis and George Jackson, responds with (again I'm paraphrasing) "the prisons are already full! The Gestapo is already here!" etc. Toscano also has a new book that just came out in 2023 called Late Fascism, which explicitly addresses the current moment. I only have a physical copy of that so I can't share a pdf unfortunately, and I still need to get around to reading it lol.

These are also a couple random articles I found insightful:

Carnut (2022). Marxist Critical Systematic Review on Neo-Fascism and International Capital: Diffuse Networks, Capitalist Decadence and Culture War - does what it says on the tin

Daggett (2018). Petro-masculinity: Fossil Fuels and Authoritarian Desire - talks about car culture as a site of modern reactionary political movements, links climate denialism with (proto-)fascist movements

Parmigiani (2021). Magic and politics: Conspirituality and COVID-19 - this one does not mention fascism explicitly, but imo the intersection between new age spirituality, anti-vaccine sentiment, and qanon/q-adjacent conspiracies are pretty important to understanding contemporary fascist social movements, so I'd still recommend reading this

Finally, this isn't an article but I found this recorded lecture about the history of Qanon pretty interesting. I don't think the author gives particularly insightful answers on how to solve the problem of far right conspiracies in the Q&A portion but I found it to be a helpful summary

Otherwise I've been focusing a lot on decolonial scholarship more so than fascist scholarship - this is again guided by Cesaire's argument that Europe/The West broadly is inherently fascist. These works aren't contemporary, but you can look at this post for some of the readings I linked on decolonial scholarship if you want to go that route. Those are serving me more for theoretical frameworks to guide contemporary analysis, not analysis of contemporary events directly

also idk if I need to put this disclaimer, but just in case this leaves my blog: this isn't a full throated defense of/apology for everything in these articles, I'm not claiming they're sufficient to understanding the present moment, these are just some of the things I've been reading recently and have found helpful in some way or another. a lot of contemporary work I have read (much of which isn't linked here because I don't think its very good/do not have it on hand) focuses on populism and authoritarianism as central analytical terminology, which i think does a lot of work to exceptionalize and mystify fascism as a historical and political process/project originating from European colonialism & Western imperialism, but these terms are endemic to the field so you have to contend with them no matter what

good luck with your studies!

#asks #book club #i need a fascism tag i think lol. maybe ill make one later

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piracytheorist · 5 months

Text

Episode 36 reactions!

I don't think one single minute passed this episode without me bursting out in laughter XD

I will get what interesting details I can, though! And here we have soap opera male character who has a Betrothed in the West. Interesting! Why did they separate, and how did she end up in Westalis, or he in Ostania? Did she defect and is waiting for him to join her? I need the full context, Berlint in Love!

Looks like one of the things that make Becky rush to be a grown-up is how she can't wait to have romantic feelings and relationships. Gurl, you're six. Pick up a doll or a ball.

The way the next scene was shown (hilarious) it looks like it was Anya who first picked up the phone, and didn't even make a sound before Becky started off her rant. Picking up the phone as a kid is quite a responsibility!

The music suddenly went full humor shoujo there XD

I love how Martha is already onto Becky.

She's like "Yo maybe reel it in a little"

The way all three of them are in completely different wavelengths is hilarious. I guess Twilight, the honey-trap master, sees Becky as the girl she is and cannot imagine she'd ever have such passionate imaginings with him.

The hell, though. I've met my favourite actor from up close in a convention and that was pretty much my reaction while being close to him. I feel Becky but someone needs to tell her of this thing called parasocial relationship--

WHAAAAAT

I had my eyes glued to the screen for this. It's definitely not surprising that the Blackbells would hire such an experienced bodyguard for Becky, but it's very interesting how it was pointed out to us! I wonder what we'll get to see next with her! (reminder: anime only!)

Becky really thinks she lives in a shoujo story doesn't she XD

I mean, Anya thinks she lives in a Spy Wars story so it's not that surprising XD

I love how in the "new" family photo Wiesel is added in front of Bond!

This episode is full chaos and I love it.

Seriously, the way Anya's powers work for her character is amazing. Usually, we'd get to see those imaginings even if she didn't have telepathy. But since she can see them with us, she gets a fair place as - almost - an audience proxy. And I mean, yeah, why wouldn't Anya be excited at the idea of super tasty food all of the time (even when papa is super busy), not having to do chores, and having fun family outings all of the time?

Completely different wavelengths, I tell you. How does this show make me love misunderstandings XD

And then a fourth wavelength is added and it's just! You don't know where to begin!

Poor Bond was heartbroken that Becky didn't notice him! Poor boy!

I find it really funny that this episode happened now, just a little after we got heavy hints that Loid is falling hard for Yor, and Becky is still like "I will win his heart with my six-year-old charm!"

If you count Bond dealing with getting rejected, that's five different wavelengths in one single screencap. No-one knows what's going on, not even Anya the telepath or Twilight the master spy.

Those are not the family teacups! Interesting choice. Also Becky's face, yeah that's exactly how I was when approaching my favourite actor for my photo shoot with him. I was smiling from one ear to the other, though XD

Also, I remember getting sent manga screencaps with Loid in such a cardigan! And I guessed right that it would be a beige one! I mean, it's a pretty common colour for a grandpapa cardigan, but has he maybe worn this before?

I wonder how he'd react and adapt if he knew Becky is having a crush on him. Like, what would he do? He'd definitely avoid anything inappropriate for all the obvious reasons, but here he's trying to pull back because he thinks Becky is getting suspicious of him XD

Send this to a friend without context and ask them to guess what the actual fuck is going on here. This is Misunderstandings: the Right-Before-Holidays Special.

Pure Chaos and it just

keeps

going.

This is exactly what I signed up for when I watched the very first episodes and was like "please tell me the entire show is like this"

Poor Yor, though. Her very first instinct was to blame herself and think of herself as incompetent. I guess old habits die hard.

Simp alert.

YEAH DEFINITELY NOT SCREAMING AT THIS

Seriously, though! She remembers what he told her there (though, weren't they supposed to repeat the conversation the next day?) and I hope she remembers how vulnerable he made himself with her.

OH BOI I DON'T SHIP OFTEN BUT WHEN I SHIP. I SHIP.

LOID BROUGHT YOR'S COAT WITH! MY GOD!

I mean! This isn't supposed to be a twiyor-centric episode and yet!

BECAUSE YOU WEREN'T RICH AS A KID AND THEN YOUR CHILDHOOD WAS VIOLENTLY RIPPED AWAY FROM YOU 😭😭

If you thought I wouldn't grab even this opportunity to make this angsty, well, you were wrong

The highest prize in the hammer competition thingy is... a q-tip?

We stan. Everything for the ultimate q-tip.

Becky sees Loid's ._. face and she's like

The way he said that "Yoru-san" there, though! This was the cherry on top of this entire hilarious part!

It was weird to see there was an entire small part on Nightfall, considering we haven't seen her in the entire season. However.

WHO THE FUCK IS THIS. WHY IS HE WATCHING THEM LIKE THAT.

(again, anime only here)

And I'm like, whoa. That's a very suspicious guy thrown in the middle of a filler part (I was told this is anime original) and not shown again. Since the next episode is the last of the season, I assume we'll see him again in that one?

I remember that in episode 20, when Loid is in the hospital, we see a moment from afar with a moving shadow, like someone was watching them. I noticed it on a rewatch and up until now I thought that was Nightfall. But now?

Seriously, though, are they not noticing him??

What he doin

I love how Handler said she doesn't want to overwork her agents... I wonder if she says anything relevant in the manga but I dare not look into the chapter after the one with Becky XD I'm guessing she actually took to heart the reprimand from HQ to be more lax with her agents.

Nightfall shows an almost audacious level of self-confidence in front of her boss... and Handler doesn't deny it. She trusts her and actually thinks the same - that Nightfall is probably the only one capable of handling Twilight's missions.

Anyway, Nightfall is going all "Senpai will notice me" and I'm like

ADDITIONAL CRUISE FOOTAGE???? 👀👀👀👌👌

Another hopeless suitor, Nightfall goes like "Did you spot any flaws in that Briar woman yet or" having no idea he was looking at Yor like the yearning simp he is <3

Nightfall being all "Pick me. Choose me. Love me." and then Twilight is like "Wow she did all of that hard job while I was gone. Guess she deserves the leftover souvenirs."

Like. I'm crying laughing over this. He didn't even think about getting a souvenir for her, not even as a cover. Nightfall couldn't be more hopeless.

And then she gives him that look

And the little hope she didn't even have is thrown out the window.

I love how Twilight turns around in shock and goes like "Why is glaring at me like that?!" because you idiot you gave her "leftovers"

Like I know he thinks they're not supposed to actually connect as friends but still. For a master spy he's so dense XD

They do kinda make you feel bad for her, though. She is trying really hard, and it would be hypocritical to blame her social awkwardness when we're here shipping Mr. Emotional Constipation and Ms. Naivete Personified. She would have actually been sympathetic if she wasn't so aggressive towards Yor (and in her mind, Anya too).

Anyway. Very funny and unhinged episode but there's only ONE EPISODE LEFT. I'M NOT READY FOR THE HIATUS 😭😭

#Spy x Family #sxf spoilers #sxf reaction

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blackbloodedisabel · 2 months

Note

main characters for your mermaid thing?

>:) thank you (deranged cackling)

arguably some of the characters I've included here are not main main characters but they mean a lot to me and they have important roles in the story ok

I will include a character grid for everyone this is the format of the character grid:

'eyes' just means vibe, jewellery is the main component of their.. jewellery because everyone here has their own unique magic jewellery (part of the magic system/worldbuilding) except Calen who has a crown only because he's king.

Teagan is my lonely human skrunckly goober losing her grip on reality<3 15 years ago her older brother got dragged from a cliff into the sea by a big scary sea monster lizard, her parents blamed mermaids and have been going out monster hunting in their boat for weeks at a time. she went with them until she was old enough to stay at home and now she's going slightly insane from lack of human contact and thinks the wind and sea are old lovers/friends/rivals. she lives in a weird amalgamation of cornwall/north devon/mid-west wales and she's the most ridiculous author insert you've ever seen. she's very nice, sort of a peacemaker figure, she loves rock climbing and the sea and her hair is perpetually crusty with salt/sand. arguably the second main character and the secondary pov character.

Anemone is the shy princess who was the first picrew I made and she has been the main character and number one pov character ever since. she has the biggest character arc and she is SO precious to me. she's not very magically powerful and is horrifically insecure about it which is not helped by the fact that when she attended magic tutoring (because she’s a princess and her family has historically been very magically powerful) her best (only) friend was the most powerful witch for generations. then Ane left really abruptly and they didn't speak or see each other for close to 2 years. precious baby Ane has spent the last 2 years rotting in her room combing her hair and staring out of the window and the story starts when her brother the king forces her to leave and go on quests to help the people because she's the most useless parasitic royal ever and this is when she decides she needs her best friend's help with quests and thus the story starts. she is very shy and very much a pushover at the beginning but her arc is becoming a confident(ish) strong selfless leader <33 she is also so sapphic she rivals the og poet

Selma is that super powerful best friend!! she is arguably the most important character in terms of how she influences the people around her. she is also simultaneously a big weirdo and very cool!! she made her own magic jewellery and teaches at the magic tutoring system. her special interest is the ancient mega-powerful witch so she's obsessed with the magic jewellery/books the witch made and with the witch's descendant. she is very passionate and resilient (sometimes to her detriment) and defeats (almost) all her enemies with the sheer power of her lesbianism and homoerotic girlbestfriendships. she was very hard to name and only got her name when 'Selma' came to me in a dream (I had a different dream beforehand where the name Olympia came to me but I don't like that as much)

Iolanthe is the last living descendant of said ancient witch and Anemone’s thematic foil. this is because she has similarly mediocre magic when she should be very powerful. unfortunately she is in denial about this and still believes she has yet to earn her magic (magic in this world is both inherent from genetics/chance and earnt based on strength/resilience. Ane is very privileged and emotionally weak so she doesn't have strong magic, Selma is much more emotionally resilient so she does have strong magic etc etc). this means Io spends all her time in her workshop paid for by her richass family trying to make the perfect piece of magical jewellery which she can form a conduit bond with (you can magically bond with a piece of jewellery which will massively amplify your power if you earn it, usually done by making it (like Selma, who Io is very jealous of and inspired to make jewellery by), finding it or buying it with money you worked for). then near the end of part one the questing gang (Ane, Teagan, Selma, Mel, Enith and to an extent Isther) show her the jewellery they've collected which was all made by her ancient witch ancestor. she becomes convinced that she needs these specific pieces of jewellery to become powerful, but obviously they're bound to various members of the questing gang. everything spirals from there. she seems really dull and a bit entitled but on the inside she's making such leaps to conclusions that she is my secret favourite

Melyde is a street singer who, at the start of the story, earnt a conduit bond with a necklace made by the ancient witch (someone threw it at her when she was performing). previously she had no magic (quite rare to have NONE most people just have very weak) but after forming the bond she became about the second most powerful witch after Selma. unfortunately she had precisely zero control over it and accidentally lured half the city to watch her perform and give her money, so Selma and the gang (just Ane and Enith at that point) had to step in and get her to join the gang so Selma could teach her magic properly. you can tell Mel and Selma are in love because their colour schemes make up the lesbian flag. melyde's whole shtick is being very brave and stubborn and while she may be the most pointless character of the gang she means a lot to me

Enith (with a VOICED TH) is the gang's navigator and the first person Selma and Ane recruited to join them. she is from the deep ocean and has an unfashionable haircut because she's making a statement! and I love her. she spent her childhood mapping out the cave system behind her house and when she was older she moved to the capital city to run a tour guide and map making shop because she didn't want to work in her parents' glass making business. she's also got no magic of her own. she's very kind and friendly until her parents are killed at the end of part one (spoilers) after which she becomes angry impatient and withdrawn. I got her name by misspelling enid as enidd, which my brain read as enith because of welsh phonetics. love her!!

Isther (isster) has I think the most duality out of the characters. she fluctuates between poor little traumatised baby and lying vengeful murderous little shit. the gang found her when they accidentally got into the huge sealed-off cave where all the sea monsters were imprisoned after the big attacks 15 years ago and for some reason she was imprisoned there too?? how odd. they freed her and she joined the group. she's actually the witch who controls the sea monsters though she doesn't know that until the end of part 1 and she wasn't born murderous.. unfortunately still a liar and she does end up being (one of) the actual villains even if she was manipulated into it a bit. she could've been ok. she could've been ok!! Ane could've fixed her honestly there's something a little jackieshauna about them (pink and green, homoerotic friendship ended by violent betrayal)

Calen is Anemone’s older brother and the king. he's not a main character but I feel obligated to mention him. he has Issues about his mother. probably the closest to morally grey out of all the non-villain characters because he ends up using child soldiers because he can't beat an angsty 17 year old and her 5-6 uncreative sea monsters

that's them!! thank you for asking about my goobers

#🧜‍♀️🌪🌊#tag changed

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dare-to-dm · 5 months

Text

Y'all have unleashed the seal on one of my special interests so now you just gotta deal with it.

Feel free to tell me your own favorites if they aren't listed!

#polls #my polls #musicals

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davidtennantgenderenvy · 21 days

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As i approach the end of finals week, I’m taking a moment to reflect on all of the absolutely CRAZY things that have happened during my roller coaster of a sophomore year of college!

This is of course, going to go down in the history books as The David Tennant year. What started as a silly little reawakened special interest in my favorite actor has somehow opened doors for me that I never could have imagined. Writing a two hour video essay about this man is NOT how I thought I’d be spending last semester, but not only did it become one of the proudest creative projects of my entire life and connected me with so many amazing internet buddies, but it was also invaluable in helping me come to terms with my queerness and come out to my friends and family. Thanks to a silly little short about David’s BAFTA outfit, he KNOWS I EXIST NOW, which is still so wild. And finally, he inspired me to write my most ambitious piece of music to date, my 8 month labor of love Crowley’s Lament, which put to the test basically everything I’ve learned about music and performing and has been received so beautifully by you guys.

This year wasn’t all about him, though! I finally got to make my collegiate stage debut in my first opera, and Iolanthe ended up being the dream role I never knew I needed- an endearing and inspiring character that was such a fulfilling challenge for an actor and singer to play. I learned loads of challenging classical, musical theatre, and pop rock music this year, listened to a ton of new albums (Will Wood might be one of the most incredible musical discoveries of my life?), and learned a ton about music theory and history. One of my favorite classes this year was Film and TV music analysis, and I got to apply my knowledge by composing the score for one of my Discord mutuals’ short films! I turned 20 and on the same day got to perform in an original musical for my friend’s composition recital. I took part in my first ever crew assignment, had two of my pieces performed at Project 21 concerts (one with a full band!), and my original Fullmetal Alchemist song Even Into Hell was choreographed for a collaboration with the school of dance, which brought my piece to such gorgeous emotional life.

I’ve gotten closer to friends old and new, and just when I’d accepted that romance probably wasn’t in the cards for me any time soon, I met (well, started DM-ing), the most amazing person through the most unexpected set of circumstances (that honestly deserves its own video sometime in the future). My brilliant internet friend-turned-parter Merlin @elsinore-and-inverness has brought so much light and joy into my life, and I can honestly say I’m the happiest I’ve been in years.

Next stop, THE UK!!! I’m not only studying abroad on a once in a lifetime Shakespeare trip, seeing loads of West End shows AND performing at the Edinburgh Fringe, but I also get to meet my favorite London boy in person :)))) could NOT be more excited

#personal #david tennant #good omens #shakespeare #musical theatre #Opera #iolanthe

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noellawrites · 2 years

Text

Special - Yandere!Eli Moskowitz x reader

summary: Eli has his eyes on you— to him, you’re special.

The first time Eli Moskowitz ever talked to you, you were sure you were hallucinating. He was the dorky-nerd-turned-impossibly-cool-karate-champion, which made you like him more. You felt like he might understand you even more deeply than any friend you'd ever had.

After graduation, you gave up on ever being asked out. You hadn't been appealing enough in high school so you figured it wouldn't ever happen until you were prettier or more mature.

But everything changed when Eli walked in with his friends to the waterpark you worked at over the summer. You watched from the concession stand as he entered with some other karate students you recognized.

Your eyes followed the group and you felt a pang of jealousy as they congregated by the lawn chairs. Deep inside, you had always been slightly interested in joining one of the dojos. However, once the drama and rivalries started, you decided to keep your distance. Better to keep out of it and avoid drawing any attention to yourself.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you realized someone was in front of you, clearing their throat to get your attention. You sat up straighter in your chair. It was Eli.

"Hey, you went to West Valley, right? Aren't you (y/n)?" he asked, and you nodded in response.

As he examined the laminated snack menu, your hands shook. He recognized you! Your chest burned with a mix of excitement and fear.

"I'll take the chili dog and your number," he said with a slight smile.

"M-my number? I thought you had a girlfriend?"

"Nah, Moon and I are way over. I covered up her tat, see," he leaned over the wooden desk, pointing at his new inked-over chest. You tried to avoid glancing down at his karate-toned abdomen.

"Oh, well in that case, here."

Hands still shaking, you grabbed a scrap piece of paper and scrawled down your number.

—

You now stood on your porch, watching as Eli drove up in his mom’s old van.

His first date idea was hanging out at his place followed by a trip to Golf ‘N Stuff, which you were fine with.

“Hey babe,” Eli shouted out the window as you opened the passenger seat door.

You tried to push back the thought that you’d completely forgotten to send your address to Eli, but he managed to find your house anyways. Either way, you hopped in the car, excited for your first real date.

—

Eli grew impatient when he couldn't win the purple stuffed bear you wanted. He was playing the milk bottle game, where he had to knock over the metal milk bottles with a ball.

"Fuck this stupid game, it's totally rigged!" he yelled, throwing the ball at the poor game attendant, who cowered as you did.

"Eli, let's just go get some food, 'kay?" you suggested as he put a hand on your arm.

“No! You’re my girl, and I’m going to win you this fucking stuffed bear if it’s the last thing I do!” He screamed, nostrils flaring.

Terror rushed through your veins. You felt like you had seen a glimpse of the violent Hawk from sophomore year, stalking through the halls as he searched for karate enemies. The prospect that he hadn’t changed as much as you thought since high school made you scared.

You tugged him away, towards the food trucks. "I'm your girl, huh?"

"Well, obviously. Just a couple more dates and you'll be ready to move in with me," Eli said. There was no indication of joking in his tone.

"Oh, well I don't really know if—"

"Are you saying you don't want to move in with me? What, you still wanna live with your parents? That's pathetic," he laughed.

"Eli, um, I would really like to move in with you but this is our first date," you explained. Is this how all adult relationships are?

"But babe, I feel like I've known you forever," Eli insisted, bringing you in for a kiss. You knew he just wanted you to stop arguing with him.

You were pretty sure he would never let you go, you just weren't sure if you were okay with it.

#eli moskowitz x reader #hawk moskowitz x reader #yandre cobra kai #cobra kai x reader #yandere eli moskowitz #yandere hawk x reader #yandere cobra kai x reader

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youcouldmakealife · 6 months

Text

LBTE: Jared (136-137)

I love it when a plan comes together. Especially when, as in this case, the plan has been in motion for years (on my part, at least. More of a day-to-day thing on theirs)

If you want to follow along, you can here.

136. Hostage Negotiations

Fans howling or not: he’s a star player and you do not hand a star player to your divisional rival. You just don’t. Unless you’re like, the Leafs back in the day, but Lapointe had a bad season before that, and Jared suspects that deal was made on the winged feet of homophobia. The former GM of the Leafs and Deslauriers are probably poker buddies or something.

I like to picture the Old Boy’s Club as a real thing sometimes. It’s at a golf course, naturally. The only women are decorative. Scotch and cigars and toxic masculinity and white privilege and unearned cockiness. Random deer skulls because they like to mount their trophies. Etc.

“I mean, I hope I’m staying in the West,” Bryce says. “Calgary’s probably going to start reaching out, seeing who’s interested, ship me off before the NTC kicks in.

That would certainly be the clever thing to do, considering how few options they’ll have come July 1st. But then, when have the Flames done the clever thing in this universe?

The Senators beat the Scouts in a massive upset.

Scratch and Money become ScratchnMoney. And a Cup for Dan and the boys!

Greg goes back and forth with the Canucks. They ask for 5.5, even though Jared would have been content with the initial 4.5 offer, told him that, Greg exasperated with him on the other side of the phone. The Canucks agree to 5. He knows the two years combined are less than Bryce makes in a single year, but it’s — huge to him. They send him the papers, and Jared doesn’t know whether to sign them or not.

That’s 2.5 AAV on a two year deal, which is pretty fair as far as bridge deals go for a middle-sixer you use heavily on special teams. Jared could have, but didn’t want to sign for longer, with no idea where Bryce was going to be in two months, let alone two years.

“Still,” Jared says. “Foster’s like — he seems like a genuinely nice guy, maybe he’d—”

“He’s a GM, babe,” Bryce says. “He’s not going to just let you like, go because of love or whatever. It’s a business.”

If any GM would…

Jared signs everywhere he’s supposed to sign it, and that’s it. He’s a Canuck for two more years. Bryce has two more years on his contract, so — maybe in two years they’ll figure it out, manage to get to the same place together. It’s hard to be happy about that when two years sounds like, well, two years, when Bryce is already frayed close to snapping.

Obviously the situation is vastly improved very shortly, but I think Bryce going just about anywhere would have probably improved his mental state, though being in the East would be undoubtedly hard on them as a couple.

They crack open a nice bottle of wine, eat good dad cooking, and Jared gets his hair ruffled by his parents like, a billion times, like being a millionaire means they get to treat him like a kid again.

Jared gets so huffy when people fuck with his hair. Which of course both parents are aware of. Gotta keep him humble. (They’re also, you know, proud of their boy!)

“You were already a millionaire,” Erin says, her hand outstretched. Jared eyes it.

“What was your signing bonus, Jared?” Erin asks sweetly.

“Nothing,” Jared says. “Not a cent.”

“Jared,” Erin says, hand still outstretched. “The internet exists. It is literally public knowledge.”

Money please.

It was a quarter of a million dollars of his contract up front and Jared isn’t going to give her any of it. He already offered his parents a cheque and was rebuked and then offered again, citing financial support being the reason he had a hockey career, and had it very grudgingly accepted.

They both have well-paying middle-class jobs and aren’t hurting for money, but they are currently paying for Erin’s schooling and expenses, so it is eventually accepted (very grudgingly).

“Am I boring?” Jared says.

“You are the most exciting person in the world,” Bryce tells him, all earnestness, and takes his hand at the next red light.

Jared squeezes, then lets go. “Both hands on the wheel, babe,” he says.

“You can sometimes be a little boring,” Bryce says.

I mean —

Free-agency comes Bryce is still a Flame, which means all the leverage is his now.

Dropped a punctuation mark and/or word, whoops.

“Who’re your three?” Jared asks that night, fingers running through Bryce’s hair as Bryce drowses beside him.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Bryce says. “Like, I’m going to put Vancouver on it, obviously, but it’s just going to be a flat out no from them.”

“I know,” Jared says.

“If they gave in they’d ask Vancouver for way too much in return and they’d say no,” Bryce says.

“I know,” Jared repeats.

Bryce blows out a breath. “I wanna go so bad,” he says. “I just—”

The scheming is underway.

“I trust you in absolutely everything,” Bryce says solemnly, which automatically puts Jared on guard.

“Except?” Jared says.

“Be patient with me during the negotiations?” Bryce says.

Dave’s now involved in the scheming.

“Are you going to be booed the next time you play in the Saddledome?” Jared says.

Bryce smiles, and Jared doesn’t care if that means Bryce is playing further from him, that they may give up the apartment that’s felt like home since Jared was seventeen. He doesn’t care. Bryce smiled.

Jared really would light the Saddledome on fire for him. And not figuratively speaking.

137. Culmination

It’s all of twenty four hours after Summers comes to town that Bryce literally comes jogging in the door, yelling, “J?” like Jared isn’t sitting on the couch ten feet away from him half-watching the news. One nice thing about living in Vancouver is he doesn’t have to listen to the fucking UCP. “J, turn off your phone.”

He ran the entire way home. It was not a long run — partly due to distance, partly due to speed. He wanted Jared to hear it from him, especially if the ‘Bryce Marcus to Tampa’ came separate from the follow up ‘and then to Vancouver’.

“Your phone was about to go crazy and I need to tell you this before someone else does,” Bryce says, kneeling in front of him like he did last night, clean pressed suit and earnest eyes. “I’ve gotta sign papers still but—”

Practically a proposal, which is fitting because Bryce just did everything in his power to be where Jared was. And yes, it’s his hometown, and his childhood team, and his mom’s there, but he would have done it wherever Jared was (would have been easier to swing, in fact, were they not divisional opponents)

“Please tell me it’s a Western Conference team,” Jared says.

“It is,” Bryce says.

“If it’s Edmonton I’m going to be—” Jared says.

Bryce kisses him. “Shut up for a second,” he says.

Jared scowls, but does.

He knows your proposal derailing ways, Matheson.

“Three teams on my list,” Bryce says. “They picked one of them.”

“They would have to if you’ve been traded, unless you waived your NTC,” Jared says. “You know I know all of this, stop being all weird and cryptic and—”

Jared let him explain his and Dave’s plan to you, he wants you to be proud of his scheming!!!

“Tampa’s over the cap,” Bryce says. “And they were desperate to shed salary so they could re-sign Tanner before someone bit and offer-sheeted him and they gave Calgary Schlitz and Barbieri and a second for me.”

Dear RL NHL GMs: use more offer sheets, you utter cowards!!!

So, deal wise, Tampa comes out of this very nicely. They get cap space they needed, they shed good but too expensive players, and they trade a second for a first (from Vancouver when they flip Bryce), and a goalie prospect when they don’t have anyone particularly promising in the prospect pool.

Calgary gets a decent if not terrific haul from Tampa, and it looks like an okay if not great deal for them, but understandable given the short trade list. Until, well. The second flip. Then they look like dupes.

“Tampa can’t afford to keep me,” Bryce says. “Which is why Vancouver offered Tampa a first, a third, and a goalie prospect because Summers told Foster, strictly off the record, I’d re-sign in a heartbeat when my term was up and I’d give them a significant hometown discount when I did as long as my husband was still in the Canucks line-up when that time came. Do not fucking tell anyone that last part, not even your parents or my mom.”

Obviously Vancouver is over the moon about getting Bryce. Hometown hero, on a sweetheart deal for two more years, going to sign for cheap as long as Jared’s by his side.

Dave Summers was in violation of NHL rules and ethics for conveying that message to Vancouver and we should all tsk and shake our heads. (But we’re not gonna)

Jared beams at Bryce.

Bryce beams back.

This is what we’re doing instead.

“I can’t believe I made you this Machiavellian,” Jared says.

He’s so proud.

He IS so proud of your scheming, Bryce!

“They weren’t really — big on moving me at first,” Bryce says. “Like, even with the media shit and all, I’m on a deal that was pretty normal then but cheap now and they figured my play was back on track so like, may as well wait, see if they could get more for me next season at the trade deadline or throw me at someone before I was a UFA. So I maybe like, held out until my NTC kicked in and then mentioned that my trade value was higher right now because I hadn’t come out yet and I was considering it.”

This isn’t technically against rules or ethics because ‘player wants to come out’ is legally protected, at least in Canada, but you know, it's probably not morally in the clear. But I think weaponizing your sexuality against bosses who have been absolute shits about it falls under ‘they have it coming’ branch of ethics, ie: karma’s a bitch and so am I.

“You’re not considering it,” Jared says. If Bryce was even remotely considering it, Jared would have caught on.

Bryce shakes his head. “Not to media,” he says.

Famous last words, though that shoe won’t drop for a year and a half.

They're both smiling too hard for the kiss to be any good but Jared doesn't give a fuck, he hauls him in, tastes Bryce’s smile against his own, feeling like he can breathe easily for the first time in months.

All of Jared’s favourite kisses with Bryce are objectively bad because they all involve them both beaming their faces off and I love that, especially since Jared isn’t much of a grinner. (Bryce increasingly is, especially after moving to Vancouver, but Jared mentions Bryce grinning so much you’d think he has a perma-grin — he doesn’t, except around Jared.)

As much as ‘actually on the same team now’ calls for some terrific celebratory sex, it’s going to have to wait. Bryce has papers to sign. They have people to talk to. They are grown ass adults who cannot have celebratory sex.

Maturity is so boring.

“Foster wants to talk to you?” Bryce says.

Jared takes the phone.

“Hi Jared,” Foster says.

There’s a bit of a laugh in Brian’s voice right there because he’s been gleefully laughing to himself all day. He did absolutely nothing to earn this deal that makes him look like a genius except be a stand up guy and I am delighted for him.

“You tell Bryce he has the biggest brass balls I’ve ever seen,” his dad says.

This is the most Don has ever liked Bryce. And really the moment Don puts down the Flames fandom. He doesn’t know what was involved, but he suspected it was complicated, and that Bryce did some shit, and that he did that shit so he could be with his son, and Don can’t not admire that. (Also the brass balls.)

“How’d he keep this a secret?” Elaine says, now sounding completely incredulous.

Bryce is way better at keeping secrets than Jared or Elaine. But only if he considers the secrets GOOD secrets. Like ‘I want to marry you, I bought a ring’ — hidden for months. ‘I have been setting up a charity’ — four months of steady work before he felt confident letting Jared know about it. And some of that is Jared being oblivious, but Bryce is perfectly good at hiding something he considers a surprise rather than a secret.

He’s got a next text when he gets off the phone with her, Stephen has not stopped laughing since we found out. Legit is going to make himself puke. Imagine you’re slammed right now but give us a call when you get a minute?

Stephen is DELIGHTED by this. Gabe’s a little concerned honestly, the dude is puce coloured at this point.

“They’re going to boo you,” Jared says.

“I know,” Bryce says.

“Not just the first time,” Jared says. “They’re probably going to do it for years. They might do it for the rest of your career.”

Bryce shrugs. “I know.”

A lot of Bryce’s complete and utter exhaustion in the run up to this deal involved him coming to terms with and making peace with that fact; that he was going to leave Calgary on poor terms, that he was going to get a boo from the crowd rather than a tribute video and a standing ovation. And this was going to happen no matter where he went, but yes, going to Vancouver significantly upped the chances of that happening for the rest of his career.

Bryce shrugs again. “It’s going to suck,” he says. “I’m probably going to feel like shit. But like. I get to play for my hometown team, and live with you all year round, and be near my mom and my grandparents and it’s like — it’s worth it, so. Whatever I have to deal with, I’ll deal with. Plus like, it’s nice knowing going in that it won’t be a shitty room. Because if it was a shitty room you would have bitched about it. Hell, you bitched about the Oilers’ room being nice.”

How dare Darryl Rogers exist, being friendly and supportive to rookies.

“Well,” Jared says. Fair. Stupid Darryl Rogers being a nice guy and welcoming him kindly.

Literally Jared, tho.

“Dmitry—”

“Sounds like a totally normal dude, you just hate everyone,” Bryce says.

This is also probably fair.

“He pied my face,” Jared says. “Twice.”

“On your birthday,” Bryce says. “With shaving cream. Which is a tradition.”

“He pied my face,” Jared mutters.

God I love Jared.

“Want to rail me in your Canucks jersey?” Bryce asks.

I would suggest against this for purely Pavlovian reasons, but you do you boys.

Canucks blue really brings out Bryce’s eyes. It’s like, stunning, how beautiful they look.

“Less talk about my eyes, more getting your dick in me,” Bryce says.

The ONE time Jared tries to be romantic.

“Look at me?” Jared says, and when Bryce does, his eyes are so fucking blue.

“Vancouver,” Jared says, and tastes the grin that spills across Bryce’s face in response.

They did it!!! Took 137 parts, but they made it to the same place!

#liveblogging the end

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i-am-beckyu · 1 year

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My Monster to Slay

WOOOOOOO! I DID IT! 8K+ WORDS! Here it is! My 100 follower fic special! Thank you all for 100 followers on my blog! I love you all so much and can’t believe we actually hit such a big milestone! You guys all mean so much to me and I love that you guys like what I create! So without further a do, enjoy! cw: abandonment, child abuse, minor gore scene but no one dies (just a rando animal), fear, fear of death, panic and anxiety, fluff, hurt/comfort, and happy endings (you know me ❤️) word count: 8856

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

It was common knowledge that no one was to enter the Forest on the West end gate of the Village. Those who went in, never came out. What was beyond the shadowy cover of thick foliage was unknown, and those who dared enter were considered dead. So of course Tommy took an instant interest, when it was sung by a bard at the Winter Festival.

Within the forest of the dark twisted wood, A place no one can go, or ever should.

Lies a creature of mischief, filled with dire deceit, Who wanders the woods, hunting to eat.

To the people who enter, full of pride and valour, Though they see themself brave, will all hide and cower.

For the creature that lurks knows your presence is near. It finds all who venture, through the smell of their fear.

And as it speaks, hot breathe spilling from their chin, You know you’ve lost from its treacherous grin.

So listen to my tale, I tell all to thee Leave the forest alone, let what’s within just be.

For all who enter have never come out. Each one a strike, in the beast's victim count.

Well if one song could scream ‘danger’ it was this one, and danger was Tommy’s middle name! The boy at 12 years old knew an adventure when he saw one! A strange unknown setting shrouded in mystery with a potential target to slay? Oh what a perfect opportunity to prove himself to the people of the village if he could bring back the head of whatever lived within the Forest. He’s seen many hunters bring back the heads of deadly creatures from beyond the village walls, and be praised for their services and bravery in protecting the village. But to bring back the head of a menacing monster, preventing the village from expanding their assets to the forest would surely result in an entire parade to celebrate his conquest!

The young boy had eagerly gathered his satchel and a wooden sword before rushing to the West end gate. He would prove his worth, he would!!! For no one is greater than the one and only Tommy Danger Kraken Innit! But of course a quest for glory was not one so simple. The West end gate to the Forest was sealed off and had been un-open nor used for a long time. Heavy reinforced iron gates were chained and locked at their operating point, to prevent anyone from venturing out, or anything from getting in. But would this stop the great Tommyinnit? NO! Using all his might, he tried to break the chains, pouring all this strength into breaking the chains with his wooden sword. But after the 13th or 14th try, he decided to spare the chain and look for an alternative exit.

“You win this battle chain…” the young boy had muttered, as he began to search the surrounding walls.

One benefit of the West end gate being so unused was that the walls weren’t attended to or maintained as well as other sections. So it wasn’t long before Tommy had found a gap just big enough for him to squeeze through and onto the otherside. Before him lay the Forest, the tree cover casting an eerie dark shadow. A last chance effort to keep intruders away. Repositioning his satchel, Tommy took a deep breath in and marched forward into the forest's depths, ignoring how his heart pounded as he began to journey deeper into the heart of the Forest. He would find the Beast, and he’d kill it.

After walking for a while, the thick foliage began to even out and soon light was pouring through the treetops, giving its surrounding a soft, almost magical glow. Seeing this himself, Tommy’s heart slowed as he relaxed and found himself enjoying his new found surroundings. What a wonderful place this would be for the villagers to explore when he returned a hero! When he found a wide enough open clearing, only then did he stop. He’d heard hunters say the best place to find creatures or monsters to battle would be to lure them out into a big open space, and create a false sense of security of having their foe in the open, all the while preparing a surprise attack themselves. When he felt he was ready, Tommy raised his hands to cup around his mouth before shouting:

“HEY! BIG UGLY MONSTER!!! HERE I AM! COME FIGHT ME!!!”

He waited a moment, listening intently for the inevitable sound of the monster approaching, but was met with silence. Well that’s okay. They’re probably doing Monster things and are busy. Tommy could wait. He’d be patient if it meant he’d get to make the village proud.

But as the minutes ticked by, Tommy’s calls were all but left unanswered. He didn’t understand. What could a monster possibly be doing that was more important than battling him?

“HELLOOOO! MONSTER?? I’M WAITING FOR YOU TO COME FIGHT ME!” He called again.

Suddenly a crack sounded from behind him, and Tommy whirled around to face the direction of the noise, hands perched on the hilt of his wooden sword prepared to draw it at a moment's notice.

“FINALLY! I’ve been waiting ages for you to show up!” He said in relief before his eyes settled upon a figure.

Before him stood a tall man with curly brown hair in a long worn trench coat. Upon his nose were gold circle framed glasses that highlighted his sharp glimmering amber eyes.

“You’re not a monster.” He stated blankly, as his face crinkled into confusion.

The man gave him a crooked smile. “I’m afraid not.” He said, his voice melodic in a way. “What are you doing in the Forest little one?”

“I’m not a child and I’m here to battle the monster. Isn’t it obvious?” Tommy said huffing, crossing his arms in annoyance. The man looked him up and down before a smirk appeared on their face.

“I’m not sure a wooden sword is going to be very effective then.” they mused. “Unless the monster you plan on battling is a rabbit.”

Tommy gasped in offense.

“You dare underestimate the power of the Great Tommyinnit?”

“Well I’m just not sure it would be very effective on anything else.” The man replied, stepping more into the clearing. Tommy drew his sword and raised it pointed at the annoying man, as he spoke with confidence.

“It’d be pretty effective at beating up a Wrong-un like you.”

The man burst out laughing as he doubled over slightly clutching his middle as he did so.

“What on earth is a wrong-un?”

“People like you thinking amazing people like me are weak. I’ll have you know I’m the strongest man alive d*******.” Tommy squawked in retaliation to the still laughing man as he tried to compose himself.

“Sure sure. You’re definitely the greatest man alive!” The man said as he began to calm down.

“I’m sorry for thinking otherwise.”

“As you should be. No one messes with Tommy and gets away with it.”

Tommy re-sheathed his sword as the man continued. “So why are you in the Forest to battle a supposed monster? I thought no one was allowed in here?”

“If I kill the monster and bring back its head to the village, I’ll be treated as a hero and praised by everyone!” Tommy replied eagerly, striking a heroic pose as he did so.

The strange man's brows furrowed slightly as he looked at Tommy in concern, but Tommy didn’t notice as he continued on. “Then people will like me and I won’t be alone anymore!”

“Did they send you in here?” The man asked.

“Nope! I snuck out here all on my own! I had finished all my chores for the day and I wanted to prove myself!” Tommy said proudly. “Why are you out here though? Wait, are you here to battle the monster too?”

“No, I actually live here.” The man said, raising an arm to scratch the back of his head as he looked away sheepishly.

“You live here???” Tommy replied eagerly, practically bouncing on the balls of his heels. “Have you seen it?”

“Once.” The man began, eyes drifting down to look into the boy's sparkling wide blue eyes. “It’s not safe to be out here, but I’ve lived here a long time and know this area well. The monster does not come to this part of the forest often.”

Tommy’s heart sank. He’d spent so long waiting and the monster barely ever even came to this area? How could he fight them if they never show up? And he couldn’t really journey much further than this either or he would be unable to get back to the Village.

“Oh.” He said flatly, his shoulders deflating at the realization. The man came forward towards Tommy, stopping till he was just in front of him. They towered over the small boy.

“I guess the monster might come back one day..” They sighed. Tommy’s face lit up.

“Really??” he said brightly. “You think so?” The man shrugged his shoulders, giving him a knowing smile.

“Can I keep coming back until it does?” Tommy asked. The man thought for a moment, looking as if they were debating heavily with themself.

“I guess so.” Yes! Success! He still had a chance then. With that answer settled, Tommy gathered himself up and turned to leave.

“I will be back tomorrow then!” He declared proudly, a bright determined smile plastered across his face.

“See you tomorrow then Tommy.” The man said, turning to watch the small boy leave.

“See you tomorrow uh, um. What’s your name?” Tommy asked, embarrassed that he hadn’t asked sooner.

“Wilbur. Wilbur Soot.” The man- Wilbur replied.

“See ya tomorrow Wilbur!”

As promised, Tommy returned to the same clearing upon finishing his chores and waited for the monster to arrive. Just as before he called out for them and waited for them to appear. Nothing. That’s okay. Wilbur said they didn’t come around alot. He could wait. He would slay the monster!

A little while later, Wilbur appeared. Almost a little shocked to see Tommy at all, as if he didn’t expect them to return. But upon seeing the excited young boy, joined him in the clearing to wait.

“Any sign of them?” Wilbur asked.

“Not yet.” Tommy replied, as he scanned the surrounding tree line once more.

“HEY MONSTER! IT’S ME! TOMMYINNIT! COME GET ME!” he yelled once more.

“Ouch. Give a guy a little warning before you do that.” Wilbur yelped, clutching his ears. “I’ve got sensitive ears.”

“Oops. Sorry. I’ll try to remember next time.” Tommy replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

“So how do you plan to beat this monster?” Wilbur asked inquisitively.

“Well when they get here, I’m gonna cuss them out for taking so long! Then I’ll draw my sword and slice them into tiny little pieces!” Tommy stated proudly, drawing his sword and posing dramatically, his weapon held high in the air. Wilbur laughed at the funny sight before him, as Tommy turned around to face him, stomping his foot in annoyance.

“Oi! Quit laughing ya b****!” he said, as he marched over a little way away from the man, stopping next to a tree to sit on the mossy ground.

“So, what's your favourite colour?” Tommy asked, wanting to change the topic.

“Blue. Yours?”

“Red.” They sat in comfortable silence for a bit.

“You got a favourite animal?” Wilbur asked.

“Cows are pretty cool.”

“Cows? Seriously?” Wilburs face contorted into an amused look.

“Hey cows are pretty intelligent alright? What about you? It’s probably something dumb like a squirrel.”

“Mmm no but I like rabbits. They taste pretty good.” Tommy turned to Wilbur and gasped.

“I meant that you like to look at or find interesting! Not to f***** eat!!!”

“What! I’m just being honest.” The man said at least looking a little guilty. “I’ve gotta eat something out here! Besides, it's not like you don’t eat cows!”

Tommy fake gasped. “I would never eat a sweet innocent cow. They’re so endedible and loveable!”

“I bet you’ve eaten beef in the last week.” Wilbur said, giving Tommy a knowing look as he rested his head into his hand, propped up on his knee.

“No…. I definitely didn’t...” Tommy said looking away, face going slightly red as he fiddled with his hands.

“At least I don’t think it was beef…” Wilbur just grinned.

“Alright alright. How about an animal you dislike? Mine’s an Anteater.”

“What’s wrong with Anteaters?” Tommy questioned.

“Oh Tommy. What’s not wrong with Anteaters?”

(\_(\ (\_/) ? (ง•-•)ง ? (•-• ) ? o/ | | \o ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It continued on like this for several days. Tommy would finish his chores around the village, then journey into the forest clearing and call for the monster where he waited. And not long after calling for the monster, would Wilbur appear and help call for the monster too. When they weren’t doing that, most of their time was spent chatting. Well mostly Tommy, with his rambles as he practiced his sword fighting skills, whilst Wilbur watched the wild child wave his treasured wooden sword around. Sometimes he would relax and nap in the warm sun's rays as the child spoke whatever was on their mind. Occasionally, Wilbur would manage to get Tommy to come sit still with him and would hum a melody or sing and a made up song, whilst running a hand through his blonde curls. The man had a soothing voice and it was almost hypnotic in a way. Tommy wished he could listen to it forever.

Days turned to weeks and soon Tommy was spending almost all his time in the Forest, and while he still called for the monster to fight, he found himself going for a different reason. Wilbur. Tommy had become attached to the man. The man had a gentle presence and treated him in a way that not many in the village did. He treated him with kindness, joy, caring and what could almost be affection, from how often the man insisted they hug before he left after coming to know him. But he couldn’t complain when secretly he loved it. Part of him almost wanted to stay with the man and never leave. But that could not be. He had a mission! Kill the monster and return a hero! That was his mission, his quest! But maybe when he did, Wilbur could come too?

He’d asked the man once before about it, his answer being that the village didn’t really like people like him, so he chose to stay away. Tommy wondered if it was because maybe he’d messed up too many times and the villagers had kicked him out? When Tommy made mistakes, he’d get punished pretty badly. Some nights he’d go to sleep covered in bruises and dried blood. But that’s okay! He’d complete his quest and return as a hero and then never be punished again. But if that was the same reason why the village didn’t like Wilbur, he thought that returning a hero with him would perhaps fix all that? Yes! That would definitely fix everything. How could it possibly not?

It was just another normal day for Tommy, as the young boy made his way to the usual clearing. He'd brought a pastry with him today that the nice baker lady had given him, for him helping her bring the flour bag order into the shop. He set his satchel down and cupped his hands around his mouth as he hollered his challenge to surrounding forest foliage.

“HEY MONSTER!!! IT’S TOMMYINNIT! I’M READY TO FIGHT YOU B****!”

He was about to call again when a rustle of leaves from behind him had him turning on his heels.

“Wilbur!” He called cheerily, not expecting the man to appear so soon.

“You’re here ear-ly…” The words died in the boy's throat as his eyes widened to see not Wilbur stepping into the clearing.

Stood before him huffing in a steaming cloud of rage, was a giant black boar with piercing red eyes. Tommy drew his sword, hands tight around the hilt, trembling slightly at the fierce animal before him. He could do this. He’d been waiting for a monster after all. This was just a uh- a warm up! Yeah a very big, scary looking warm up. But as the boar let out a menacing growl, and Tommy’s fear growing by the second, he took a step back. He-he couldn’t do this. Tommy’s hands loosened on the wooden sword, allowing it to drop to the grass floor below him. The boar taking this moment as its time to charge. Tommy sprinted for dear life. What was he thinking? That he could take on what was supposed to be a terrifying man eating monster alone and win? He’d bought a flippen damn wooden stick to a boss fight! And he wasn’t even trying to escape the supposed monster. It was just some ugly Boar!

Tears began to stream down Tommy’s face. He didn’t know what to do. The Boar was quickly gaining on him and he had no idea where he was going. He didn’t have a decent weapon and he was getting tired quickly. So he did the only thing he could think of and screamed.

“WILBUR! WILBUR HELP!!!” He shouted over and over again, in hopes the man was somewhere nearby and would be able to help.

“SOMEONE?! ANYONE?! PLEASE!!!”

Tommy kept running. He could feel the hot breath of the Boar growing on the back of his neck as the sound of hooves got closer and closer. He was managing to dodge his way out of the approaching jaws of the furious animal, but for how much longer?

Tommy’s luck seemed to have run out, as he soon found himself cornered at the bottom of an overhanging cliffside. He scrambled about looking for a way up, someplace to hide, ANYTHING to help him escape his impending doom, but ultimately was left with nothing. The Boar slowed its approach, knowing its prey had finally been caught.

“WILBUR PLEASE!! WHERE ARE YOU?!?” He shrieked in desperation; one last time.

“Please.” he barely whispered as he backed himself up against the cliffside wall, breathing heavily as he braced his arms against the rocky stone walls. He heard the Boar grunting and scraping the ground, a sign it was about to charge and deliver the final blow. He scrunched his eyes firmly shut and braced for the end. He didn’t want to see it coming.

Suddenly something hit the ground with a heavy thud, creating a small shockwave, causing Tommy to be knocked to the ground from the impact. A blood curdling shriek along with terrified squeals were sent into the air, instantly followed by the sound of several loud cracks and hissing. Tommy lifted his head up and wiped his face of dirt from the ground, slightly dazed from the harsh fall. Tommy’s eyes widened in terror. Before him was a giant brown and yellowish scaled tail. His head followed the scales up, anxiety growing of what was to come as he looked on to where the tail turned to the back of a human torso, of a man with curly brown hair atop of their head. Tommy’s heart stopped as realization struck him.

A Naga.

That was his monster.

But before him is Wilbur.

Wilbur was a Naga.

His Monster is Wilbur.

The monster he’d been calling for and patiently waiting all this time to come, had been Wilbur the entire time.

There was no doubt in his mind that now that the secret about Wilburs’ true form was out, would have them turn tail and devour Tommy alive. After all, that must be why he had come. They probably didn’t want their free meal to be snatched up by some other predator. The Naga had known the entire time why Tommy was in the forest. They knew Tommy wanted his head for the glory it would bring, but had indulged in his wild fantasies. They were probably letting him live till they got bored. That made the most logical sense. Besides, everyone always gets fed up with him eventually. It's how he ended up an orphaned street rat in the first place. People just put up with him till they’re sick of him, then make him get lost. It's why this hurt so much more. Because instead of being abandoned, Tommy knew he was going to be devoured.

Slowly, Tommy struggled to his feet. He had to get out of here. He couldn’t die. He had to escape! He just had too! The Naga was still turned away from Tommy, the now dead Boar hanging limply in its grasp. Ever so quietly, Tommy crept along the side of the cliff wall, around the Naga. He couldn’t afford to be seen. He kept his head and shoulders down and tried to blend in with the wall, doing his best effort to be as unnoticeable as possible. He was almost in the clear when he glanced back at the Naga. He froze in place. Tommy watched as a giant fist raised the dead Boar up in the air, as the Naga opened its giant mouth. Sharp fangs glistened in the sun as he watched them drop the entire dead animal in the awaiting maw, only to snap it shut and swallow the entire thing whole. Tommy watched in horror, as the large bulge of the boar traveled down the Nagas throat. A thin pink tongue slithered out of its mouth and licked its lips in satisfaction. Oh Prime, he needed to leave NOW.

But one wrong step was all it took for a twig to snap sharply beneath Tommy’s foot. The sound rang out loudly in his ears. He didn’t need to look down to realize his mistake. Oh so comically slowly, Tommy turned to face the monster. The Naga’s head had snapped to meet his own, its amber eyes nothing but thin slits. However, upon seeing Tommy, their gaze softened.

“Thank Prime you’re okay.” the Naga said, releasing a heavy sigh.

“I was so worried when I heard you calling that I-” They began to say as they turned to move forward.

Tommy bolted.

“WAIT! TOMMY!” The Naga cried as he lunged for him with an outstretched clawed hand, the small boy just narrowly dodging the giant appendage before the Naga crashed into the cliffside missing.

Tommy booked it for the tree line. He needed to get back to the village. He wasn’t going to just wait to be caught and die!! Wilbur had said he lived in the forest and was the monster.

This was their forest.

Its domain .

He wouldn’t be able to hide anywhere and not be found. It wouldn’t matter if he’d had a 100 meter head start, the monster knew where to go, where to look. Prime! It probably even knew what he smelled like and could track him! Tommy’s only hope of survival was to get back within the Village walls. He took every tight, confusing, twisting path he could take, ducking through small gaps that blocked off openings for larger creatures, praying that somehow this would slow the Naga down. Tommy could hear them approach from the sound of leaves crinkling from beneath the weight of the serpent that was giving chase.

“TOMMY, PLEASE! COME BACK! LET ME EXPLAIN!!!” Tommy heard the Naga plea, as he squeezed through the gaps of several fallen trees, stopping the naga effectively as they were too big to follow.

“COME BACK!”

They were so close. But he couldn’t stop. He had to get to the village. Had to get back home. He just had too!

As Tommy ran through another thicket of bushes, he stumbled into a clearing, tripping over something, falling to the ground harshly and scraping his knees against the rough surface. He cursed to himself as he looked over the now slightly bleeding scrape, eyes narrowing on whatever he tripped on.

It was his wooden sword.

He paused as he processed his surroundings; recognition sparking in his head. It was the same clearing he’d first met Wilbur in. It’s a bit ironic? The sword he wanted to use against the big, bad monster used against him. Tommy felt tears bud at the edge of his eyes. It just wasn’t fair. NONE of this was fair. This was the spot he had met his first real friend. The first time he’d had a real connection. The first time he hadn’t been kicked out for being himself. The first time he had felt like someone actually cared, and it was all a lie.

“Tommy? Are you alright? That must have hurt.”

Tommy whipped his head around to see the now human version of the Naga standing behind him. He turned to run again, but he was no match for the Naga’s speed as they shifted form and snaked around him, effectively trapping him within the giant coil walls. He ran to the edge of the coils and tried to climb out, but the end of the snake's tail trailed its way up the boys torso, wrapping itself around his frail form semi tightly and lifted the boy into the air. “Please Tommy. I just want to talk.” The naga said as Tommy began to thrash in attempts to break free. Instinctually, the tail tightened around him, squeezing the air out of his lungs, causing him to cease his thrashing. Oh Prime! He was going to be squeezed to death! His lungs began to burn from lack of air as the pressure on his ribs slowly constricted tighter.

It hurt .

It hurt so much .

He let out a strangled whine of pain.

“F***!” the Naga spoke above him as the tail immediately loosened, releasing its death hold around the boy, as they greedily gasped for air.

“Oh Prime. Oh S***. I'm so sorry!” The world lurched as Tommy was lifted and placed on a rough, warm surface. He blinked his eyes open, trying to focus on his surroundings between black splotches from the lack of air.

Oh.

He was in it’s hand wasn’t he?

“S***! Tommy! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to squeeze you like that!!! Are you alright?” concern lacing the giant's voice.

Now didn’t that just make Tommy’s heart ache. The jig was up! He knew what Wilbur was. This sick game or whatever it was was over. He had literally just tried to squeeze him to death. Why were they still pretending to care?

“Tommy? Please talk to me!”

“Don’t eat me!” Tommy pleaded, tears freely dripping down his face.

“Eat you?” the Naga breathed, taken aback.

“I don’t want to die!” Tommy cried, as he curled in tighter on himself. He didn't want to see the hungry look of the predator.

The Nags’s eyes widened in disbelief as a gasp escaped him.

“Tommy! I’m not going to eat you! How could you think such a thing?”

“Because you will! You almost squeezed me to death just then!” Tommy wailed as he began to tremble.

They glanced away. At least they had the decency to look guilty.

“That was an accident. I didn’t mean to and I’m so sorry I did!” he paused. “But I saved you from the Boar. Why would I want to eat you if I did that?”

“Because you lied.” Tommy whispered, the Naga taken aback; hurt by the statement.

“Please… I just- I can’t- I don’t want to die Wilby.”

Why did Wilbur have to keep delaying the inevitable? Why did it have to be the first person he’d come to love like that was to be his demise? Why had he been so foolish in believing he could succeed in defeating a monster like him? In a way he’s lucky he hadn’t been devoured sooner. He’d practically been dancing with death every day for weeks. It's not like anyone would even care if he disappeared. No one had cared when he’d disappeared for hours at a time as it was. No one liked him. No one truly cared for him. No one loved him.

“Tommy, sunshine. Look at me.” The Naga asked softly. Tommy lifted his head slightly as he sniffled more wet tears into his knees.

“Tommy. I’m not going to eat you. You mean so much to me. I could never imagine hurting you on purpose.”

What?

“Sometimes, my instincts get the better of me. I didn’t mean to squeeze you like that, I swear.” The Naga spoke gently.

“I came to save you from the Boar because you needed help. Not because I was afraid he’d eat you before me or anything like that that you might be thinking, but because I was terrified I’d lose you.”

Tommy’s whole body stiffened.

He thought he was going to lose him?

“Yes Tommy, you.” They chuckled almost as if he read the blonde's mind.

“When humans enter my forest, I usually just leave them alone because I know they're afraid of me. But that day you came into the forest, I couldn’t help myself. I’d been alone for so long, and you seemed so determined to battle a monster, I couldn’t help but be intrigued by you.”

Tommy uncurled himself to get a better look at the Naga, them taking it as a cue to continue.

“And when you found out it wasn’t around, I didn’t want to ruin that precious smile across your face. So I lied about the monster.“

He had lied because he would have been upset about no monster?

“I didn’t think you’d come back in all honesty. But when I heard you calling for me the next day and you kept coming back, I couldn’t stay away.” Wilbur lifted his hand up to his face so that Tommy was now at eye level.

“I care about you Tommy.

Tommy lifted his head fully, eyes wide looking at the Naga.

“Really?” voice wobbly, he asked.

“Really.”

Tommy’s breath hitched in his throat, eyes scanning the Naga’s face looking for any sign of they were lying.

But all he saw was the man he had come to love. Despite everything, despite them being a Giant Naga, a Monster: It was still Wilbur. Still his friend.

Tommy let his tears pour as Wilbur began to gently stroke his back up and down with his thumb in reassurance. He was okay. They were okay.

__ /) /) (\ (\ | ♡ > ( ›.‹) (⋅.⋅ ) o( づ♡ ⊂)o ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy continued to visit Wilbur even after the incident. The two became closer despite the truth coming out, and they couldn't be happier. Wilbur could be honest about his true self, and Tommy had someone he could depend on. Tommy would still call for the Naga though. While he knew that he didn’t need to (since Wilbur revealed he knew when Tommy entered the forest everytime by his scent and how he walked from his crazy good hearing) he still did it as a sort of tradition. It felt wrong not too.

Although, some of his calls were a little less than polite…

“HEY B****! I’M HERE!!” The 12 year old hollered for the snake.

“Where the heck did you even learn to curse like that?” Wilbur laughed as he slithered into their clearing.

Wilbur didn’t shift to his human form a whole lot anymore either. There was no real need too now that Tommy knew. He would occasionally at Tommy’s request, but the boy rather liked the Naga at his giant size. He’d crawl all over the man’s coils and slid down his tail like a slide. Sometimes he’d laze about in Wilbur’s fluffy hair and ramble on while the Naga lazily dozed in the sun listening. Other time’s when Wilbur was being clingy from instincts, he’d hold Tommy in his hands close to his chest. Tommy would complain, scratch and bite for him to let go, before eventually submitting to hand cuddles in defeat. He’d never actually admit that he loved them though. It’s not like it made him feel completely safe surrounded in the comforting warmth of his hands or anything. Nope! Not big Man Tommy liking some silly hand hugs. Nuh uh. Not him!

“So what are we doing today Sunshine?” Wilbur asked, as he lowered a hand for Tommy to step onto.

“Something awesome.” Tommy grinned mischievously as he stepped on and was lifted to sit on the Naga’s shoulder.

“Awesome or hey-OW! TOMMY!” Squawked Wilbur, as the boy launched himself off of his palm, grabbing onto one of the longer curls of his fringe, tugging it down as Tommy swung around wildly.

“Let go, you Gremlin.”

“NEVER!”

“You are such a little menace.”

“Little??? I’ll have you know I’m the biggest man alive!” The boy pouted, as giant fingers gently pulled him away from the man’s face, dangling him in the air briefly before placing him back on the ground. “Yes, I’m aware Tommy. You’ve said so many times.”

“So you’ll let me back up on your shoulder then?”

“Ha! No.”

It was moments like these that really made Tommy want to stay with the giant snake and never return. But despite the bond he and Wilbur had formed, Tommy couldn’t stay with Wilbur forever. He understood why he couldn’t, but he wanted to stay. Wilbur had told Tommy how much he cared for him and he knew that he did, but despite this, Wilbur still made him go home. The forest wasn’t safe for him even with the Naga’s presence, which was made very clear by the boar attack, and Wilbur voiced that he should stay with people of his own kind, within the Village walls where it was safer. He was still so young and he needed the care human’s provided him. Tommy of course had yet to tell Wilbur that he slept in an alleyway alone and all, but that’s okay. He didn't need to worry him like that. What could the Naga do about it anyways?

Although while he couldn’t stay, Tommy would be in the Forest every chance he could! The villagers, of course, now seemed to take notice of their dear little street rats’ disappearance. They didn’t like how their source of free labor was suddenly not around so much. Didn’t like how they suddenly didn’t have a personal punching bag for when they were upset. Concerned their little orphan wasn’t around to control anymore. So of course, they started to ‘inquire’ about it.

“Where are you off to?” The Fletcher asked him one day, as Tommy was leaving after helping sharpen the flint for the arrow heads. “Just going to practice my sword skills.” He replied simply as he turned and walked off.

“Disappearing to the West End District again rat?” The Butcher provoked. Tommy tried not to pull a face as he walked passed.

He hated that name. “What are you doing down there? Don’t you know what lurks beyond the walls?” “I like that it's quiet sir. Good place to practice my sword skills.” Tommy yelped in surprise, as he was suddenly grabbed by his shoulder. Pointed fingernails dug into his skin, as he was twisted around to meet the Butcher's face and a sharp cleaver poised dangerously close to his neck. “Make sure you stay within the walls, Rat.” Tommy’s eye’s darted from the Butchers knife to their piercing gaze. “When people go into that Forest, they don’t come out. Would hate for something to happen to you.” With a sharp blow to his back, Tommy stumbled forward out of the man’s grip and sprinted for the West End Gate, desperate to get away. He ran all the way to the gap in the wall and crawled through.

He didn’t tell Wilbur why he had run to the clearing that day or what had happened to cause the now-forming bruise between his shoulder blades. Simply lying instead about how a heavy book had fallen off a shelf that morning when he helped the Librarian. Wilbur had given him a concerned look before Tommy changed the subject to talk about cows. Tommy hoped that the odd interaction from the Fletcher and Butcher was a one time thing.

But it continued to happen.

Everyday, a different member of the village would question him about where he was going and why. Some would get a little aggressive like how the Butcher had, but he managed to get away with just a mild bruise or graze. He tried to cover them up best he could before visiting Wilbur. The Naga was beginning to get increasingly worried about how many injuries Tommy was showing up with. “Tommy, are you sure you’re alright?” They had asked him one day, when he’d appeared with a poorly wrapped cut across his forearm (a cut he’d unfortunately been unable to avoid from the Cartographers drawing compass).

“Yeah I’m fine Big Dubs. Just got a little reckless with some of the other kids in the village playing swords.” Wilbur raised a brow. “Just, promise me to try and stay out of trouble Toms? I don’t want to keep seeing you show up covered in fresh injuries.” “I promise.” Tommy promised nervously. He hated that he had to lie about this to Wilbur, but it wasn’t worth worrying them over a little scratch.

~~~

It only seemed to grow worse for Tommy as time went on. He’s not 100% sure, but he swore that he’d seen someone following him. Whenever he started to approach the West End District, it felt like holes were being burned into the back of his head. He had started to take back route alley ways to the gap in the wall after that, trying to avoid whatever had been tailing him. But you can only avoid certain things for so long.

“Haven’t seen you around all that much lately, rat.” The Blacksmith stated, when Tommy was unloading a metal order for him one morning. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing of importance sir.” Tommy replied as he kept his eyes trained down. He knew not to establish eye contact. He’d had too many slaps to the face recently to forget that. “Just keeping to myself till needed.”

“Hmpf. I know you’re up to something rat.” The Blacksmith said, stepping closer to the boy. “We know you’re sneaking off through the West End Gate.”

Tommy’s neck bristled, as a shiver ran down his spine. So he’d been right.

Someone had been watching.

“No sir. I would never do that.”

“DON’T LIE TO ME RAT!” The Blacksmith yelled, grabbing Tommy by the collar and yanking him into the air.

“WHY ARE YOU GOING INTO THE FOREST? WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?”

Tommy grabbed uselessly at the back of his shirt in hopes of getting free, as the Blacksmith held him high dangled in the air.

He couldn’t tell them about Wilbur! If they knew he’d been going in there to see him, they’d go after him! They would hurt him!

“NOTHING SIR!” He cried desperately.

“LIES! NO ONE THAT GOES IN THAT FOREST COMES OUT! HOW IS IT THAT YOU, A USELESS CHILD HAS!?”

The Blacksmith flipped him around and threw him harshly to the ground and into one of the furnaces. Tommy jerked his arm back, hissing in pain as it came into contact with part of the hot metal, the skin on his arm immediately turning an angry red. The Blacksmith trudged forward, pressing a heavy boot onto his frail chest.

“I’ll ask you again. Why are you going in the Forest?” They threatened, venom seeping into every word.

“I’m not sir! I know not to go in! I never do!” Tommy wailed, as tears streamed down his face.

“Fine. Be that way.” they hissed, stepping off his chest.

“We’ll get the truth out of you eventually.” They raised their leg back before kicking him harshly in the stomach winding Tommy, before swiftly walking away.

Tommy didn’t visit Wilbur that day.

Or the next.

For 3 days he stayed huddled up, hiding in the shadows. He was in so much pain that he couldn’t even bring himself to move, let alone leave his little shelter in the alleyway .

But even after he felt fit enough to move again, he didn’t return to the Forest. He was too ashamed of what Wilbur would say if he saw him covered head to toe in bruises and fresh wounds. He’d be so disappointed in him if he did. He was supposed to be looking after himself and staying out of trouble. Being good, and making Wilbur proud. Instead, he’d had to spend the afternoon trying to find a shirt with long sleeves that he could use to cover his arms, and hide the would be scars from the Naga, only managing to find a slightly too small red sleeved shirt that was in semi okay condition.

He was such a disappointment.

~~~

The next morning, Tommy helped the farmer. He didn’t want to go back to the Blacksmith. His arm was wrapped loosely in a makeshift bandage beneath his new shirt and it hurt like hell. He was still finding it slightly difficult to breathe, but the villagers had work for him to do and they wouldn’t take kindly to his ‘excuses’. Especially after vanishing for a few days…

The Farmer wanted him to harvest some of the carrots today. Normally, he’d be allowed to take a few of them when he’d finished the job, but today the Farmer had come as he was finishing up and was holding the small pile of carrots Tommy had set aside for himself in their grasp.

“I hear the Blacksmith had a chat with you the other day.”

Tommy stiffened.

“Yes-yes sir.” He stuttered.

“We don't take too kindly to liars boy.” The farmer threatened. “So make this simple for both of us and tell the truth.” “But I’m n-not going in, sir. There’s n-nothing in the Forest!” He stuttered, taking another step back.

“WE KNOW THAT’S NOT TRUE! WE’VE SEEN YOU SNEAKING THROUGH THE GAP IN THE WALL!” The farmer accused stepping forward, raising their pitch fork up. “YOU EVEN DISAPPEARED AFTER SEVERAL DAYS AND TURN UP ACTING AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED!! TELL THE TRUTH! HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?”

“But-but I-I didn’t go in!!!” Tommy stammered, his voice wavering as he spoke. “I was in my alley trying to rest from my injuries!”

“B*******! You expect me to believe that?” They spat. “Even if you were, that doesn’t explain why you’ve been going in!!!”

“There’s no rules that say I can’t go in! I’m just going there to practice my sword skills with a friend.”

“A friend?” The farmer asked incredulously. “Who on earth would be spending their time with a ratty orphan street kid like you? Stop making things up and tell the truth.”

“BUT IT IS THE TRUTH! ” Tommy pleaded in desperation. “WE JUST HANG OUT AND TALK!”

“B***S***! JUST TELL THE TRUTH!”

Tommy pushed himself up off the ground and away from the Farmer as they made a move to grab him, and high tailed it for the West End Gate. He couldn’t take this anymore. He had to get out of the Village NOW. He had to leave. Had to get out!

Even if Wilbur wouldn’t take him in, he had to get out of there. It wasn’t safe.

He ran through the streets, the sounds of angry villagers emerging from their homes to come after him and bring him back, trailed after him, growing in volume. He knew what they wanted him for. They didn’t love him. They didn’t actually care. They just wanted to have control over him. He hadn’t realized it at first, but after meeting Wilbur, he’d begun to recognise the choke hold they held over him. Making him work for approval. Making him work to prove his worth when it would never be enough. Using fake praise followed by belittling comments to control his feeble mind. He had thought that if he came back a hero, they would finally actually want him, accept him for him; not just claim that they ‘cared’.

Wilbur had shown him what being cared for truly looked like. And he’d take that over the s*** the village dished out any day.

He ran and ran till he reached the gap in the wall but skidded to a halt when he realized what the villagers had done.

They’d sealed the gap.

He pounded on the freshly dried layer of concrete sealing the gap over, desperate to break through before eventually giving up. He turned and sprinted for the West End Gate exit and tried to break the chains once more on the operating point.

But it was futile. The Chains remained locked tight, and despite the little bit of muscle he’d built up by practicing with Wilbur, he still lacked the physical strength to even leave a dent in the chains.

The sounds of angry villagers continued to grow louder as they approached and soon Tommy was surrounded on all sides.

“Awwww. The little rat wants to go into the Forest.” One woman snickered.

“Don’t you know you belong to us!” Another spat.

Tommy turned and ran to the iron gates and began to climb his way up. If he could make it over, he’d risk the broken bones the fall down would cause. “Where do you think you’re going?” The Weaponsmith snapped, grabbing Tommy’s ankle, yanking him back down to the ground.

He tried to climb up again reaching for the iron gates but was torn away with a yelp.

“Uh uh uh. You ain’t going nowhere. Not until you tell us why you’ve been going into the Forest.”

“LET ME GO A******!” Tommy shrieked as he struggled to get out of the Weaponsmith’s hold.

“Oh we’ll let you go alright. Right after you tell us the Truth. No one goes into that Forest and comes out alive. We’ll find out what you’re hiding: even if we have to break you.”

“SOMEONE PLEASE! HELP!!! ANYONE!!!” Tommy thrashed about, desperate to break free. He felt helpless. No one in this damned village would help him no matter how much he pleaded. He didn’t understand why the villagers were treating him this way. They had never cared about him before, but now that he had entered and emerged from the Forest unscathed they cared? What the F*** was wrong with them???

“LET ME GO!!” He screeched in vain, as he was dragged along.

Why won’t anyone help me? He didn’t deserve this. He just wanted- he just wanted…

“WILBUR!” Tommy screamed out of desperation. “WILBUR PLEASE!!! HELP ME!!!”

He knew the Naga wouldn’t be able to hear him, but he wanted his brother. Even if Wilbur didn’t feel the same, he wanted to be swept up in the giant’s gentle hands. He wanted to be held close to their comforting chest. He wanted to hear Wil’s rhythmic heartbeat and soothing voice. He wanted to feel Wilbur’s fingers card through his hair, as he whispered sweet nothings.

He wanted to be with Wilbur.

He wanted to be loved.

“WILBUR! PLEASE!!!”

“Your imaginary friend is going to come save you rat.” The Weaponsmith mocked.

“You belong to us and we will do to you what we see fitting-” The words died in their throat as a thud was heard from behind. A flurry of hushes were sent amongst the crowd, as all turned to face the West End Gate. They watched in anticipation as another loud thud hit the gate’s door causing it to creak, as dust floated down from the upper walls like snow.

Something was trying to break in.

“Oh Prime.” the Weaponsmith whispered, as the sound of hissing began to fill the air.

“Go-go, GO! GO NOW!”

The villagers began to disperse into panic, as the thudding increased and the Gate began to cave in on itself, whatever beyond the entrance desperately trying to break in.

“YOU!”

Tommy tried to fight against the Weaponsmiths hold as they pulled him to their face.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

But before he could answer, the Gates flew open, debris flying everywhere. Tommy tried to shield himself best he could, as bits of concrete were flung in his direction. The crowd went deathly silent.

Standing tall menacingly within the rubble, was Wilbur; hissing threateningly.

“Where is he?” The Naga demanded.

“Wilbur. WILBUR!”

“Shut up.” Weaponsmith hissed as they shoved Tommy away from the direction of Wilbur.

“WIL! I’M HERE! I’M MPHF” Tommy tried to call, but a piece of fabric was stuffed into his mouth, muffling his cries.

But the Naga heard it all the same.

“TOMMY! I’M HERE!” Wilbur yelled, as worried amber eyes searched the crowd.

The Naga’s eyes locked onto Tommy’s form, a warning hiss filling the air.

“Give him to me now, and I’ll spare you.”

“Never.” The Farmer spat.

“Have it your way.”

Wilbur slithered forward, not caring for who or what was in their way. The villagers scattered beneath him, screaming in fear to avoid the giant snake's tail, some not being so lucky. Wilbur’s eye’s turned to slits, as they let instinct drive them forward. The Naga bared their fangs and hissed in warning as they approached closer. The Weaponsmith trembled as Wilbur raised his torso up, poising themself to strike. Fear had the Weaponsmith turn tail and run, as they hurled Tommy forward trying to put as much distance between him and the boy. Tommy stumbled forward, Wilbur shooting his hand out beneath him to catch him. The Naga’s eyes dilated as they brought Tommy up to their face, eyes searching every inch of the boy. Their frown deepened at the sight of every new bloodied spot, as Wilbur removed the makeshift gag.

“What did they do to you?” Wilbur whispered, voice tight as he gently ran a finger over Tommy’s forehead, brushing the hair out his eyes.

“Wil. I, I-I’m so sorry.” Tommy whimpered.

“Shh shhh. It’s alright Sunshine. I’ve got you.”

Tommy felt himself being moved as Wilbur began to slither away. He kept the boy close as they moved through the Village and back to the Forest, Tommy clutching onto Wilbur’s giant fingers tightly the whole way.

“I was so worried about you Toms. When you stopped coming, I thought something horrible had happened to you.” Wilbur said, as he stopped to rest in their familiar clearing.

“I’m sorry.” Tommy whimpered softly. “I tried to stay out of trouble like you wanted! Really! I did! But the villagers were so convinced that I was doing something wrong in the Forest because I came back! I didn’t do anything wrong Wil! I swear I didn’t!”

“Oh Tommy sweetheart I know. I never should have sent you back. I thought that it would be better if you remained with your own kind. I thought humans looked after their young. But they hurt you. They hurt my Little Brother.”

Tommy’s whole body stiffened.

Little Brother?

“Yes, Little Brother Tommy.” They chuckled, as if he read the blonde's mind.

“Every time you went to leave, I didn’t want to let you go. I just wanted you to stay with me. It was so hard to not just reach out and pull you back into my arms.”

“I thought you didn’t want me.” Tommy sniffled as he looked up at the Naga in disbelief.

“Oh Tommy! How could I not want you?” I love everything about you! Your smile, your laugh, your personality, EVERYTHING. I want you to come home with me. I want to hold you close, protect you and never let go. I want you to be my little brother.”

Tommy could feel tears budding at the edge of his eyes.

“I love you Tommy.”

And Tommy? He broke. Sobs ripped from his throat as he threw himself at the Giant Nagas nose as Wilbur brought his hand up to hug him back in an awkward way.

He Loved him.

Wilbur actually loved him. Finally, someone really loved him!

“I-I love you too Wilby!” Tommy wept, clinging to the giant's nose. “I love you so so much Wilbur. You’re my big brother! No one has ever cared about me like you do!”

They stayed like that for a while before Wilbur pulled Tommy back from his face, tears threatening to fall from the giant's eyes as a fond smile grew wider across the Naga's face.

“Let’s go home.”

/)/) (\(\ ( . .) (. . ) o( づ 💗⊂ )o ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the forest by the West end Gate, Journeyed a boy, led in by fate.

A monster they went a looking for. A monster he found, but was not so sure.

Some say the monster took them to eat, Other’s say the boy still searches to beat.

A once monster, fabled in fear, But not to this boy, who holds them most dear.

For while glory they went, a looking for, Instead they found something worth much more.

Within his forest home, the boy now sleeps, With their monster brother, safe he keeps. There they stay loved, never a part. The boy who claimed the monster's heart. ❤️❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! I KNOW SO MANY WORDS BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

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lizardsfromspace · 10 months

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A series of emails between the town board of New Cannock, Vermont & new resident Christopher Pitt

Town Board: Hello, and welcome to the historic community of New Cannock! We have good values, nice people, beautiful fall views, and this Sunday, we will gather together for THE CHOOSING. You're "invited" to THE CHOOSING, Mr. Pitt!

Christopher Pitt: I'm sorry, I'll be out of town this Sunday.

Town Board: It's October, and that means it's Halloween season. But it wasn't the first harvest festival in the old country. Our ancestors once observed Samhain, when the veil between life and death was weak and the hills ran red with the blood of human sacrifice. But don't worry about that, it's harvest time! The stalks in the field will be cut down and collected! And this Sunday, we'll all gather to honor our "bountiful harvest" at THE CHOOSING, in the town square.

Christopher Pitt: Ah, sorry, I have to work late over in North Burlington.

Town Board: November is a time of giving thanks. To who? God? The great United States? Our friends and family? We will "give our thanks" to that which lies below this Sunday at THE CHOOSING. All are encouraged to attend.

Christopher Pitt: Seeing family. On the West Coast. Sorry.

Town Board: Merry Christmas and happy Holidays! Why, isn't it better to "give" than receive? Find out this Sunday at THE CHOOSING, Mr. Pitt. All Choices will be made. The fire will be kindled. The goat's fate decided. Afterwards we'll have a screening of The Polar Express at the library.

Christopher Pitt: Seeing family again. Sorryyyyyyyy

Town Board: New Year, New You? New Cannock is not a place for new things, despite what some think. New Cannock was created as a place for tradition. For the old ways to prosper. If you wish to "partake" in them, you must attend THE CHOOSING, this Sunday.

Christopher Pitt: I have a lot of laundry to do. In New Hampshire

Town Board: This February, we honor all African-American New Cannockites who have "passed through" their Sunday THE CHOOSING. Bit suspicious you won't do the same, Mr. Pitt.

Christopher Pitt: IT'S VERMONT ALL OF YOU ARE WHITE. Geeze, I really thought you'd do a Valentine's one. You know what? I'll go. I'll go. You can do whatever The Lottery, Wicker Man shit you want to me. Just let the emails stop.

Town Board: Boy, is there egg on our face! First of all, apology for thinking "quotes" is the same as bold. Some weird impressions there. Also sorry about the dark message about Samhain, my son Cody has a special interest in Celtic History and I let him write it and didn't really check it? Also, turns out referring to our town graveyard as "that which lies below" is a bit off-putting to some people? And we could've been more clear on our yule goat, and uh...congratulations to Mr. Pitt for winning a flatscreen TV, several tins of Mrs. Figg's cookies, and a new snowblower, and we'll take your spirited rant about the importance of phrasing under consideration.

#horror #folk horror #writing #long post

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amtrak-official · 7 months

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Chapter 1 of my novel's first draft is hopefully finished, check it out and please give me critique

Today is the Third Sunday of the Month, this means that the city of Saltpeter’s oddities, mistakes, and rarities have come together for Brunch, the national pastime of this peculiar crowd, among them are 2 librarians, a museum curator, a traveling beekeeper, a pen crafter, and about 20 other strange fellows. Take great note on the pair of drab brown haired people sitting at the very back of the train station’s restaurant. These boring sorts go by the names of Danny Jones and Danielle Jones and hold absolutely no relation to each other.

The thing about Danny Jones and Danielle Jones that is so interesting is not the fact that they share a birthday or last names despite being unrelated in any way other than a lesbian aunt 7 generations back, is the fact that these are the 2 most dull and boring individuals you will ever meet. Both have the personality of sliced bread and they aren’t much better in fashion either. There is nothing special about either Jones, they both live completely ordinary lives as shopkeepers on opposite ends of town. The most eventful thing either will do in a month is a Sunday Brunch. And yet both have managed to obtain a loving relationship with incredibly interesting people. And more interesting still is the fact that both are going to wind up dead at the end of the month.

Now to understand why this will happen, you must understand Saltpeter, importantly there are 4 cultural institutions in the city of Saltpeter, Firstly is the Library, it is one of the 3 which is actually known to the people of Saltpeter, and houses exactly 17,943 books and 67 are currently checked out. Next is the Museum of Maria Fernando, a town crazy lady who runs a museum on the way things used to be, this is the institution people like to forget, despite mattering quite a lot to the city, it has received exactly 17 visitors this month and stays afloat via Maria’s wife’s second cousin’s generous yearly donations in exchange for copies of old novels. The 3rd cultural institution is the rail station, it is on the route of the oldest train in the nation, the California Zephyr and is run by perhaps the best chef in the city, Leaf Ann Smith, capable of both killing a man and cooking in Omelette in under 20 minutes. Finally there's the Pen shop, they sell pens, specifically fountain pens, each are hand made by a Saltpeter craftsman, it made the list because we were paid 72 Chicagoan Dollars to add it. If someone wants to stretch the definition of an institution and do a bit more bribery, they could get it up to about 20 institutions and a playhouse worth of cultural amenities, but they would also have to include the brunch of the misfits of Saltpeter, which really shouldn’t be added on principle since it happens in Leaf Ann Smith’s train station anyways.

Now back to the Brunch, something very important is about to happen, There will be a rather large toast to the group. This is on account of it being the 3rd anniversary of the start of the groups monthly meetings. Somehow that is a point of pride among the members due to how it is the longest any Brunch group in Saltpeter has lasted after the Infamous Brunch fights 20 years ago. The Brunch fights were a rather dreary matter for such a pleasant pastime. 27 dead and 63 injured over a week. All because of bad French Toast at an upscale restaurant near downtown Saltpeter. And when I say bad, I mean bad, it was soggy, barely toasted, and didn't have any fruits except the one eating it. It's not even like Saltpeter doesn't have any strawberries, it was built on the largest strawberry farm west of the Mississippi. How do you fuck up French Toast that badly? How? It perplexes the mind.

Oh right, the Toast to the Brunch crew, A tall woman in a Green Dress, a leather Jacket and Golden Hoop earrings stands up, her hair is cut in a pixie cut. She grabs a Mimosa off the table and begins to talk. Hurricane Jane Rivers as they call her is many things, a lesbian, crazy, a storm chaser, dangerous, a purveyor of Pancakes, a painter and an aerial ace, but one thing she is certainly not is concise. It would take 7 paragraphs to summarize her speech to that disparate group of oddities. In short though, she was thanking them for the best 3 years of her life. Little did she know, only half of them would see her next month.

As her glass hits the glass of another member of the Brunch, a clink rings through the air. Followed by a harsh silence.

A tick of a second

Then with a large creaking boom, the train comes to a screeching halt outside the station, passengers get off as Leaf Ann Smith scrambles to hide her current mess of a Diner from the view of the wealthy tourists from down the tracks. The train is early for once. Precisely 17 minutes and 6 seconds early, something that should not have been possible given the fact that the train tracks were under repairs between Omaha and Saltpeter. And the train had a 2 minute delay when it arrived at the last station. This is all irrelevant if not to show how off guard it caught Leaf Ann Smith who usually manages to keep incredibly on top of the schedules of the train so she can run the station and Diner at once. Leaf Ann Smith is a busy Woman between the Diner, the Station and her time moonlighting as the union negotiator for between the carpenters guild and Sylvia Ink the sole crafter of fountain pens in Saltpeter and a person notoriously bad at paying their union dues. Now in a hurry, she rushes to kick out the Brunch party and clean up the messes left behind in her diner today. She had to rush the 20 people out for a rather simple reason. She needs money to run a diner and the train is what brings her the best customers each day. The customers from grand cities like Chicago, Denver and Omaha. As the crowd of weirdos and homosexuals scurries away. One Slyvia Ink bumps right into a Jim Halder. The only man in the city who still knows their face.

Jim Halder is a professor at the University of Saltpeter and has 40 years of Tenure there, starting as a professor at 31, despite being in his 70s, he looks rather young, with a smooth face and deep black hair, this however is a lie. If you look closely at his hair, you’ll notice a long white steak and an indent on his face above his left eye. This is because Jim’s face is not his first, while studying in the mines of Saltpeter, his face was burned off by a explosion, and a new wooden one had to be constructed by Sylvia Ink, one of the only 4 things they ever completed that wasn’t a fountain pen, the other 3 are another less lifelike mask, the hilt of a blade, and pen holder to hold their pens. Jim is a man of learning, giving every book he writes to the library after he publishes it, 14 of the books that are currently checked out were donated by him. If you were to inspect Jim closely you would also find that you could knock him over quite easily with a single punch due to his slim frame. The university that he works at is not considered a cultural institution by even the most generous people in Saltpeter because nothing of interest has been produced in that institution for just over 67 years. Well apart from Sylvia Ink and Jim Halder, and their incredible works of course, the two little wooden people of Saltpeter.

Jim was naturally surprised to see Sylvia at the station, but glad nonetheless to see that young fellow out of the workshop. When they bumped into each other, quite literally, as Sylvia had been too focused on a croissant to notice the man ahead of him. He proposed to the young carpenter that they go over to the old river park for a stroll to discuss the terms for the new project.

Despite being a chilly 50 degrees out, if you were to head across town from the rail station, over to the river. You will find 2 men on the banks of the river. One is sitting in a rather large Sycamore tree, reading a book, when he hears the train rush past. He is wearing a blue sweater and long pants, the other man is dressed quite poorly for the weather, he is wearing nothing but a swimsuit and his golden locks of hair. He stupidly planned on Swimming in the river today. He is 6 feet tall and somehow not freezing. These peculiar fellows meant to be at the brunch but the one in the Sweater, Alex Cela had set his pocket watch 3 hours behind. Even knowing this now, he was still caught off guard by the train crossing over the river since the train had not been early in 3 months. Despite being totally different, one a bit of an idiot and the other a top marks student at the University of Saltpeter, they have been dating for 2 months, and six days if either had remembered to keep track of that. They met at the park, Alex was trying to paint the trains and Damien had been trying to teach a cat how to swim, the pair of them instantly became friends after Alex stopped trying to attack Damien for ruining the painting. And the two started dating a week after they met, when Damien kissed Alex under an Oak tree in the town square. These 2 lovers were not however the only people in the park. There were about 400 people in the park give or take 27 on this chilly morning. But none of them particularly matter, none of them except for Emily Rock.

Emily Rock is a unique woman, it's hard to like her, but easy to understand her. The first 3 words that come to mind about her are angry, pretty, and rude, she is only two of these.The reason many of her peers tend to dislike her is simple, she’s tired, angry, and rather blunt. She’s tired of her classmates at the university, this miserable city, the man on 7th street, and of course she's tired of her father who refuses to give her that damn amulet. What with it being promised to her in the will and everything. Another thing she is tired of is the incredible dullness of the man she works with at the shop, his name is Danny, and she is uncertain if he has a personality. Something she has made clear to him. Now Emily is a pretty woman like they say, she has long blond curls and a tan face, if you care about clothes, she’s wearing a blue skirt and a pink tank top, she’s current reading the morning paper, when an idiot brat of a child steps on her foot running past her bench. Her morning is already ruined, so she decides if nothing else, she should pick a fight, it might cheer her up. What after the argument with her father over the amulet last night, and now that child, she deserves to make someone miserable. As she walks down the river bank she spots him, a man with golden hair and a large frame, the kind of man she thinks would be stupid enough to steal her pet Rabbit “Mr. Flopsy”.

On the other side of the river sit two scientists, a carpenter and a professor, the two wooden men as they call them, one looks young but is old in years, the other’s age is impossible to tell at a glance, they wear a wooden mask and have cyan hair in a low ponytail. The one in the obvious mask is slightly shorter, and is carving a piece of wood with a short knife. The taller one, in a button up vest begins to speak,

“I know that you have a need for something more interesting than this city, Sylvia. I propose that we make a new excursion from this miserable city. I have enough savings for 2 tickets on the train to Chicago.”

The small masked person looks back at Halder, their head tilted as if to ask a simple question, why?

“Why, you ask. I have evidence that the scientists up in Chicago have found a sample of Chestnut, which as we know could be used by the project.

The short one shakes its head to tell Halder their disbelief in that notion.

“You don’t believe me child? Then tell me what the point of that project is. It can’t be built without chestnut wood and we both know it. If you think it's a myth or dead or lost or some other thing, then tell me the truth, why did you build it?”

At this mere suggestion of disbelief, Slyvia stops, throws the pen they have been crafting to the ground and begins to point their whittling knife at the Elderly man. A tear roll out from under the mask.

“Alright, I know that is a touchy subject, here let me pick up the pen, I know why you started it, we both have our white whales of course. I would react similarly if you tried to stop me of course. How about we leave the park, this reminds me of your last day in my class far too much.”

“Besides, we have a train to catch, I forgot to show you this”

Out of his hand slips a photo of the Chicago River, around the ruins lies a single tree, the last pure American Chestnut Tree. At the sight of this Slyvia’s head pops up and begins to run towards the hill. Jim turns around as he sees the younger individual start to run and turns around to chase them.

As they begin to leave the park they hear shouting, coming from across the river, as a woman seems to be trying to pick a fight with the man currently swimming in the river. But they are not about to witness the only fight in the city this morning. In the city center one Maria Fernando is riding the trolley over to the library to do some research when she notices the fellow with the bee hives has been following her, she would have their name but never actually heard it when they started coming to Brunch about a year ago and she would be far too embarrassed to ask now, Maria Fernando is a headstrong and determined woman, but you can never get her to actually admit to not knowing something, she now prides herself on knowing more than anyone in this 3rd rate mining town. She wishes she could see the face of the Beekeeper, then she would know whether she could trust them, that's why she doesn't trust Sylvia Ink, it's that damn mask and the incident in the Saltpeter mines of course, that whole thing is confusing. She can tell, she just knows for a fact that that damn beekeeper is staring at her, and then she spots her destination, the Library square, she quickly jumps off the Trolley and lands on the ground, falling over and tumbling for a good 10 feet with her briefcase in hand. She then briskly gets up and puffs the dust off her red dress. She runs into the Library and without talking to the Libarians for once she runs in the stacks, she looks back and yep, that freakish beekeeper fucking followed her. As she hides, she reaches towards her briefcase to open it when she sees the Beekeeper grab a book off the shelf and start to move away from the shelves. She closes the Briefcase backup and wipes the sweat off her brow, she was so paranoid about the beekeeper and for nothing. But she did have a good reason to be paranoid when entering the library that day because someone was right behind her. And,

POW!!

She is hit on the head with a large book. Now because Maria has already fallen over, so she can’t see this, but another person, the beekeeper and another patron of the Library have also been hit with the book.

As Maria opens her eyes, she finds herself in a dark room, with 5 other people, she is tied up alongside 2 others, one is the Beekeeper, the other is the most boring man she has ever seen, he looks familiar but she doesn't know from where. She could have seen his face a thousand times and not recognized it, because she had. In fact she had seen him earlier that day at Brunch, He is wearing a white tank top and blue jeans, he has medium length brown hair and about no other interesting characteristics, but she wouldn't remember seeing him, he would be one of the 7 people she never would remember, not even after talking too, but this would be the last time she would see him and still forget him. Suddenly a pair of Women enter the light, one being Sunny Rus and the other being Elise Rosa, they are 2 of the 3 librarians at the Saltpeter Library and both are typically good friends of Maria, they were even just at brunch discussing how to acquire several old 23rd century novels for the museum.

Sunny steps forward and bites into an orange, peel and all, it's a strange habit of hers that nobody really understands. She then spits the peel out, hitting Maria in the Face, this part is unfortunately all too common for Maria, dealing with Sunny's surprising lack of manners for such a pleasant looking woman was an annoying commonality. It is impossible to find her outside a sundress even on a chilly day like today. She begins to say something in a commanding tone of voice like a military officer, in fact if you put her in a coat and shaved her hair, she could have passed for one at this moment.

"Look I know none of you would steal our delivery of a particularly difficult to find object from Chicago, but given its value, I think we will all agree this is the only logical course of action,” Sunny says to the group, in an alert tone.

Maria is confused by this given that the only things that were collected by Sunny were books and strangely photographs of a fruit that had been extinct for 300 years. She knew that the fruit pictures were pretty much worthless and most valuable books were held by the elites of Chicago and Denver, the Barons and Lords of what remained, those with wealth that far exceeded what could be found in Saltpeter. Suddenly she realized what Sunny had done as all heads in the room rapidly turned at the sound of a gunshot outside the library. It became clear that Sunny had set her sights on something truly valuable for the Library collection

Macmillan Dev-ill was a strange man, for one he was on call of every last baron, lord, and prince in Chicago on those Bell telephones that had swept across the prairie. It was a result of his rare profession. How does one put the actions of this man delicately, well let's say he dealt with people’s final moments for a hefty price. To put it bluntly, he was a killer. Today he was holed up on the roof of a library in a mediocre forgotten rail town of about 63 thousand people. He was waiting for a small balding man from Omaha to arrive. That man had a copy of the Codex Americana, a fabled book with only 3 remaining copies all of which were handwritten by the 18 monks of Madison; they lived in a monastery that overlooked one of the last great waterways in the continent, they call it the Ohio. The Codex chronicled the history of America from the settlers to the 5 Unions to the empires of Chicago and San Francisco and their falls into dust like all great civilisations before them. He was hired to reacquire the epic so that it couldn’t fall into the hands of those outside Chicago, specifically he was hired by the heir of the Family who commissioned it, the Christopher Fleming of the House Fleming.

After 17 hours he saw 2 things, first a dark haired woman and a beekeeper came running into the Library, making him alert again and then he saw his mark a small oaf, whose name will be forgotten by history. What mattered was what he carried, a box holding a particularly rare book.

He was on the steps when it happened when it went - BANG!!

7 people came running out about a minute later, but it was too late, Dev-ill had already gotten down, grabbed the box and started towards the train station back to Chicago.

It's been 1 hour since Maria saw the blood on the steps of the grand library. It has been 57 minutes since she was told to head to the Train station to try and get the book, whatever book it was back and For the past roughly 3 minutes, Maria Fernando has stood almost still, an incredible rarity, she is waiting outside the train station, ticket in her hand, she is both preparing herself to see the immortal city, the last great city of the American Age, and trying to deal with the death she has seen, not just today but constantly over the past 16 years. As she looks back at the city of Saltpeter for one last glance of her home fill her with hope, the whole city is visible from the rail station on a hill, it was moved up hill and north about a mile about 200 years ago after a devastating flood, but nobody knows that now, history is easily lost in Saltpeter. The libraries know this, but nobody bothers to remember what happened in this city all those years ago. With one last gulp of the air, she lifts up her briefcases and runs to catch up with her companions. If she has to go to Chicago, then at least she is going with people she knows even if it is against her will, and at least if its not people she knows, then at least its people she’s met. And Danny Jones, he is also there.

As she climbs up the stairs to Leaf Ann Smith’s station she can smell the exciting smell of eggs and coal smoke, a mix you can only find at two places, an incredibly rustic bakery and the Saltpeter Train Station. The Coal is there because Leaf Ann Smith is known by certain groups in the city, but thankfully not the California Zephyr Authority of Denver to steal coal for the Diner she runs in the train station on the edge of the city in a large garden. Maria is ready to leave now, she wipes away tears that are beginning to form and begins to shift through her pockets to find the ticket. She produces it and feeds it to the ticket machine, it spits the ticket back out alongside a mix of currencies, the only 2 of interest to her being 6 Saltpeter Tins and 7 Chicagan Dollars, about enough for a Coffee and a biscuit on the train for the second day, she was glad the Machine was still broken like she had heard and would always give change, for the simple reason that she couldn't buy the coffee otherwise. When the gate pops open, she sees that the train is in the station and runs on not looking for her company on that journey. If she had looked she would notice that the Zephyr remarkably managed to hold all but 2 of the members of her Brunch party from Yesterday. The 2 who weren’t on the Train included Hurricane Jane Rivers, who while not on a train is also heading towards Chicago on that night, this is because of the sudden news She had heard at the airfield that afternoon. That day every single individual of any relevance was on their way to the last of the Great American Cities, the city of myths and dreams, the heart and birthplace of empires, Chicago.

#last ride of the california zephyr #writblr

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