#old old gnarly deep woods gods | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 || werewolf!Lee Bodecker x reader

summary: being the sherriff’s department’s crime scene photographer means seeing terrible things. following lee bodecker into the woods means experiencing terrible things.

word count: almost exactly 4k

warnings: smut (noncon but she comes around eventually, if you will), werewolf sex (so...pseudo-bestiality??? but like... not really??), breeding kink, knotting, some a/b/o tropes?, kinda some degradation?, violence, vague-ish description of gore

Something undeniably wicked was lurking in the woods behind Knockemstiff, Ohio. That much was obvious.

It wasn’t your first gig as a crime scene photographer, so you knew what to expect; or, you thought you did. This town was nothing like Toledo, though, in all the worst ways. You’d left the big city in hopes that you wouldn’t have to see another drive-by shooting, another stockbroker who jumped out of his office, another mafia job left out in the street to serve as an example for would-be testifiers. You’d left to escape some of the brutality that the urban environment brought. And to be fair, it wasn’t anything like that, but it wasn’t at all better.

You’d never seen a cut this deep before. You’d never seen a body nearly turned inside out.

“It’s that damn bear,” the officer nearby announced, his words failing to distract you from your task of photographing the bloodied remains. “This happened a couple months ago, body just like this turned up. Thought we shot the damn thing but I guess we got the wrong one.”

“That can’t be right,” you frowned, stepping back and lowering the camera from your face; it looked worse when it wasn’t seen through the viewfinder, it looked more real. “Bears might maul people, but they don’t… eat them.”

“They do if they get hungry enough,” he sighed.

“Do you really believe that?” you pressed.

“I need to.”

The conversation was still echoing in your head as you drove back to the station, which was still bustling despite the day being just about to end.

You stopped by your desk to grab a folder from your top drawer, "FOR SHERIFF" written in big letters on the front. Tucking it under your arm, you navigated through the officers and secretaries mulling about to the back hallway of the station, finding the last door on the left and knocking even though it was already halfway open.

“Good evenin’ little lady,” Sheriff Bodecker greeted with a smile when he looked up at you, “got somethin’ for me?”

“Photos from yesterday,” you explained, stepping inside and setting the folder down on his desk. He opened it and flipped through your shots, nodding slightly.

"Looks good," he praised— gruff and monotone, but praise nonetheless. "I think it's enough to prove who was driving recklessly and who was just driving."

"Think they'll be all right?" you asked, remembering how one of the car crash survivors looked as they were being wheeled into an ambulance.

He sighed a little, setting the folder down. "Seems so, last I heard."

"That's good…" you trailed off, toying with the strap of your camera nervously, studying his face as he looked down at some paperwork in front of him.

You were a career woman, working in a male-dominated profession, and you had so much to prove… but god, if you didn't sometimes fantasize about the Sheriff in ways you knew you shouldn't. In spite of the fact that you were sure he wanted an obedient housewife, and that that was something you could never be, you'd been known to daydream about another life where he wasn't your boss and you weren't so worried about what other people thought and the two of you could be together.

Or, on other occasions, you just wished Knockemstiff was as liberal as Toledo, so you could have a fling with him and not worry about everybody calling you a harlot.

Either way, it could never happen. You worked with him and he worked with you; he was looking to settle down and you were looking to start your life. It was a basic incompatibility. That didn't stop you from letting your gaze linger on his hands, admiring how strong and thick they were. God, you wish he'd just grab you—

"Anything else I can do for ya?" he asked slowly, that deep voice making the question sound just a bit more dirty than he likely meant it.

"No, that'll be all," you decided, giving him a polite nod before you slipped out of his office.

Sometimes, it felt like the only chance you got to really think during the day was when you were alone in your darkroom. The photo development equipment here was significantly more primitive than what the Toledo Police Department had been able to provide, but you didn’t mind; if anything, it brought you back to your roots, when you were just a newbie photographer who wanted to make compelling art, take photos that would end up on magazine covers or beside hard-hitting journalism.

That dream had been dashed quite some time ago, but you really did enjoy your job more often than not. Sure, it came with a lot of gruesome imagery, but at least it was important, and interesting.

You couldn't be sure what time it was— with no windows and no clocks, and with hours always flying by when you were developing film— but the lack of any noise from outside your darkroom made it clear that it was quite late and everyone had left.

It was odd, then, that you did hear a noise from outside the room, like floorboards creaking. You were ready to blame the old building settling until you heard it again.

“...hello?” you asked hesitantly, the sterile echo of your voice only making you just that much more paranoid. “Is someone there? I’m just here developing my film…”

The red lights cast everything in an eerie glow— bright enough to see, but not enough to assuage your fear.

You opened the door to your darkroom slowly, careful not to let too much light in, and peered down the dark, empty halls. An uneasy feeling awakened in your gut and you swallowed nothing before hesitantly stepping out into the dark.

Another creak from around the corner made you turn, walking towards the noise and considering calling out again but suddenly afraid to speak at all.

A man's form appeared in front of you out of nowhere.

“Oh!” you gasped, but you sighed a bit when you recognized the badge glistening on his chest. “Sheriff, shit, you scared me…”

“Sorry, little lady,” he breathed, “didn’t know you were still here…”

“Come in, if I leave this door open too long it’ll let light in,” you explained, pointing to where the street lamp outside shined into the window and ushering him past you into the darkroom.

“What’re you still wearin’ that damn camera for?” he asked, pointing to your hip where it was slung at your side from over your shoulder, making you giggle a little as you shut the door behind the both of you.

“Force of habit. Never know when something worth photographing might take place,” you explained, returning to the tub of ammonium thiosulfate where you were dipping another glossy print.

“If somethin’ worth takin’ a picture of happens while you’re stuck in here, I think you’ll’ve got bigger problems than not having your camera,” he smirked.

“Fair enough,” you scoffed. “Let’s hope I never need to take pictures like these—” you tilted your head towards the pictures you’d hung to try— “unexpectedly.” Lee sauntered over to where you’d motioned, pulling one the more developed photos from the clothespins. “That’s the body we found in the woods,” you informed him, “I’m surprised you weren’t called in— it’s pretty gnarly.”

“Sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to see stuff like this,” he shook his head, sighing somberly.

“I can handle it,” you shrugged, “Believe it or not, I saw worse working mob cases.”

“I’m going with ‘not,’” he answered quickly.

He was right not to believe you, and you weren’t sure what to say now that he’d called your bluff.

“What… what perfume are you wearing?”

The question threw you off but you figured no harm could come from answering honestly. “I’m, uh, I’m not…”

He stepped closer, his footsteps soft but audible on the carpeted floor as his form settled behind yours. Your breath caught when his fingers trailed over your arm and he leaned in, pressing his face to the side of your head as he breathed in. “You smell good,” he stated plainly, deep voice vibrating in your ears and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Um… thank you…” you answered, hearing your voice waver.

Just when you thought he might make a move (was this already a move?), and just when you thought you might actually reciprocate if he did, he pulled away. “I should… I’m sorry, I oughta— I have work to get done.”

Before you could even begin to wonder what he was talking about, he had already slipped out of the darkroom and back into the hall. Oddly enough, you were sure you heard him start running the second the door was shut. You considered shrugging it off and getting back to work, but the more you thought about it, the more you were worried. Most of all, you wondered if he had seen something in your photographs that gave him a lead on what killed the poor old man.

That possibility needed to be investigated further.

So, you powered down your equipment and left the darkroom, leaving just in time to see the Sheriff stumble out of the back door of the station, seeming to be limping slightly.

Too curious now to stay away, you followed his path and pushed the door open with your weight, seeing him making a mad dash for the nearby treeline.

“No, Lee, the woods—!” you warned, horrified to imagine that he could meet the same fate as the man in your photographs. You weren’t dressed well enough for the weather— already the evening breeze blew against your bare legs and made you shiver— but you forged ahead regardless.

The moon light was just enough to illuminate your path at first, but as the clouds moved and the tree cover grew thicker, squinting just didn’t do enough to help you see. Generally, you weren’t afraid of the dark, but this was different… it was cold, and you were alone; but you didn’t feel quite as alone as you would’ve liked to. You called out for Lee, only hearing the gentle rustle of the leaves and the occasional snapping of twigs on the ground.

At about the same time you considered turning back and using one of the station phones to call some officers for a search, you heard something. A whine, maybe, or a whimper. You weren’t sure what it was; it only just barely sounded human.

“Lee, are you out there?” you called, whipping your head around wildly.

In desperate need of light to navigate your way, you had a moment of insight and reached for the camera slung by your hip. You relieved yourself of the shoulder strap, pointed the camera ahead, and opened up the flash.

CLICK. A brief moment of light gave you at least an idea of where you were standing. It was impossible not to notice how similar it looked to the background of the photos you had just been developing. You realized, then, that you’d worried so much for Lee’s safety in these woods, but hadn’t considered your own.

Lee, at least, had a gun. You just had a camera. Both could shoot, but only one could protect you.

CLICK. You moved in the direction that you remembered as clear. It was even harder to see in the dark after the bright light had burned your eyes slightly, and you longed to reach out ahead to feel out your path yet found yourself too terrified of what you might touch. You could hear the flash charging between shots, you knew well enough by now what it sounded like when the camera was ready to shoot again.

CLICK. Something white reflected back in the distance, so you moved that way, nearly tripping on a root for your trouble.

The cloud over the moon finally blew away, and just barely— finally— your eyes could make out the shape of Lee, leaned against a tree and breathing deep and fast. His back was turned to you, but even then you could see he didn’t look well, his back bending and swelling with each panting breath that grew louder as you stepped closer.

“Oh my god, Sheriff?!” you squawked, sprinting closer. “Are you alright?” you asked loudly, but when you reached out to touch him he spun to look at you, eyes wild and teeth bared.

“Leave,” he growled between panting breaths.

“You… you’re…” you tried to begin, but you were speechless as you tried to imagine what trick of the light could make him look like he was getting taller, like his eyes and face were shifting.

“GO!” he bellowed.

You stumbled back, dropping your camera but too terrified to even hear the bulb shatter as it hit the ground. Your legs couldn’t move right, your eyes couldn’t look away from what you were seeing, and what you were seeing… you couldn’t describe it, couldn’t understand it.

It didn’t look like what scary stories and picture books told you a werewolf was. It didn’t look like an animal; it sure as hell didn’t look like a person. Disturbingly, it still looked a bit like Lee, even though his Sheriff’s uniform was tearing at the seams from his morphing, swelling body. His cries were broken and twisted as his face seemed to be overtaken by teeth— so many teeth— and dark fur.

Ultimately, one last command to "go" was lost to a howl.

You finally managed to get your brain and body on the same page, turning and scrambling to run away, hearing him chase behind you.

He walked on two legs but ran on four, his snarls coming closer and closer as you made a mad dash for the distant light of the police station. Cold wind blew past you as you sprinted, coming to a sudden halt as you tripped and landed on the ground. Leaves crunched under your hands and feet as you tried to stand back up, but he was already above you, tossing you to the ground again and pinning you at your shoulders.

You tried to kick him away once he'd turned you into your back, but it was laughable— pitiful, even. When he curled his lips back to brandish his glistening fangs, growling deeply, you were too stunned to fight. But you could beg.

“Lee, please, please don’t eat me,” you sobbed.

“I didn’t turn to feed,” he informed you, and it almost sounded like Lee, aside from the depth and roughness that shook you to your core. “I turned to mate.”

“No…” you whispered, denial more than rejection— and as you looked down between your body and his where he hovered over you, you choked on your breath at the sight of his cock, erect and reddened and.... for lack of a better word, enormous.

You weren’t excessively familiar with human cocks (not all the rumors about the new girl who moved here from the city were true), but this one seemed different than what you’d seen, most notably in the size but additionally in how you could see it pulsing and throbbing. His teeth were bared as his claw-laden hands grabbed your legs, lifting and spreading them. Your stupid dress just fell away and exposed you easily, like it didn’t even care that he was a monster.

Your panties were already damp, like you didn’t even care that he was a monster.

A deep breath in through his snout-like nose made it clear he was picking up your scent. He grinned and you shuddered.

You’d seen how deep those claw marks could go, so you were surprised when he was delicate enough to tear your clothes off without ripping your skin. The fear that he could or would, though, kept your heart pumping plenty fast— or maybe that was because of his dark blue eyes scanning your nude form hungrily.

He adjusted your hips as he held you with his… paws, one might call them, pulling you closer and bumping his thick, swollen head against your entrance.

"No, you can't—" you stammered, not sure if you meant morally or physically. There was no way that would fit in you, right? There was no way Lee would force himself on you… right?

The noise you made when he pushed into your channel was, ironically, animalistic. His intrusion stretched you wide and filled you deep, and he wasted no time in setting a brutal pace that slammed his rough, strong thighs against the back of your soft ones.

Fear paralyzed you, made you unwilling and unable to fight back. He was all claws and teeth— where could you reach to try to push him away, without the extremely high risk of him just biting your weak little hand off? No, it was better that you just laid there, whimpering and sobbing and trying with all your might not to moan at the feeling of being fucked, hard, in the woods, by a beast.

His tongue on your neck was an odd sensation, another way he forced you to acknowledge that this wasn’t normal— because no human tongue was this long, this thick and hot, nor surrounded by sharp teeth that grazed your jaw and cheek.

“Gonna breed you,” he informed you coldly. It made you squirm beneath him with renewed vigor, desperate not to be filled with the seed of— well, of anyone, but especially not this thing. Could it get you pregnant, were you even biologically compatible? You didn’t want to find out.

“Please, no,” you whimpered.

“If you hate it so much then why is your cunt sucking me in so tight?” he whispered gruffly against your ear before licking it, too, with that cursed tongue.

His question was probably rhetorical, but either way you couldn’t answer it— you had no idea why your body was submitting so easily, why your walls welcomed him so eagerly, why your legs wrapped around his hips to pull him closer. Further, you had no idea why you were about to come.

Numbness and sensitivity warred across your body, everything feeling tighter and hotter and heavier until you finally snapped and your body shook and convulsed. His arms reached beneath where your back was arching, and you clutched at his shoulders as your fingers weaved into the fur you found there.

Of course he didn’t stop when you reached your peak, he wouldn’t stop for anything now, so you were forced to take him just as deep and hard as always even as your body went limp and became overwhelmingly sensitive. It was clear, then, that your pleasure was only collateral damage to him; he was using your body for whatever he wanted, to sate his biological drive to impregnate something. Like everything else about this, it was disgusting yet annoyingly arousing.

It's hard to say how long you laid there, limply jolting with each of his thrusts, dripping your arousal onto the cold earth beneath you, moaning weakly as you alternated between pleading for mercy and pleading for more. You watched the clouds blow through the night sky, afraid to look up at his monstrous face, at his pointed ears and shining teeth. Occasionally you glanced down and noted the way your stomach bulged from the size of him; you couldn't look at that anymore because it would either make you sick or make you come again.

You gurgled and choked as you felt his cock swelling inside you— bigger, wider, until your body was stretched beyond its limits.

"Take my knot," he instructed darkly, "my little bitch."

Disturbingly, you realized he probably wasn't calling you that to insult you: it was literal. You were his breeding bitch, a womb to carry his litter, and you whined at the way it made your gut sink in shame.

His noises were more animal-like than ever while he came inside you, thick come all but pouring into you as he panted and growled. Funny thing was, it just didn't stop: he kept coming for so long, giving you so much while the knot kept every drop inside.

You'd never felt so full in your life, of anything, let alone hot come that made you feel warm and sticky and dripping wet.

The knot kept you plugged and showed no signs of going down as he caged your body in, nuzzling into your neck. He could bite you now and end it all, but you weren't afraid of that since he seemed to have found a better purpose for you. His heavy breathing made his back rise and curve above you, his clawed hands pinning your wrists beside your head while he started to lick and nibble at your ear, neck, and collarbone.

You didn't even notice that you'd fallen asleep until you awoke in the wee hours of the morning— that time just before sunrise where there's light but no real color in the sky yet— with Lee asleep on top of you. Regular Lee, that is, naked with no fur whatsoever and a normal cock that had softened inside you.

Okay, maybe "normal" was a strong word considering it was still pretty big and deliciously thick despite not even being hard anymore, but at the very least totally human.

"Lee," you whispered harshly, shaking him to try to wake him up. "Sheriff."

He stirred, and his cock moved inside you; the subtle stimulation on your sore insides made you moan lowly and involuntarily squeeze your walls around him. That got his attention, and you heard his breathing change beside your ear before he groaned a little.

"Mornin'," he greeted, his grin audible in his tone as he sat up slightly and looked down at you. You reached up and brushed your hand over his chest, happy to find a much thinner layer of hair there than last night. "Of all the times I woke up in this forest with no fuckin' idea what happened the night before… this has got to be my favorite."

"What's the last thing you remember?" you asked.

"I told you to run… I must've caught you, huh…"

You nodded and bit your lip.

"You know I can't stop, when I'm like that… I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," you sighed, "you didn't— it wasn't you."

"But it's my seed in you," he remembered, his words sending a little tingle up your spine.

He must have felt it, must have seen your eyes widen or heard you gasp a little, because he grinned proudly as he looked down at you.

"Oh, you really love it, huh? Love bein' mine…"

His hands held your arms tight as he pinned them down, making you whimper a little while he leaned in to suck on your neck.

"Love bein' bred like a bitch, ain't that right?"

You heard the deep, desperate moan before you even realized it had come from your mouth, his chuckle beside your ear making your heart twist.

"Yeah, I can tell… who knew you were so dirty, little lady? Sweet girl like you shouldn't be gettin' off on being ravaged in the woods by a monster."

"Y-you're not a monster," you protested weakly.

"I eat people," he reminded you, letting go of your hands which you instantly weaved into his hair.

"Well, that's… everybody's got flaws, that's all."

"Yeah? And what's yours?" he teased.

"I've got a crush on my boss," you answered with a grin, "and I came harder than I ever have in my life being fucked by… what are you?"

"The clinical term is lycanthrope."

"Right," you nodded, "that."

"And what would a pretty girl like you have a crush on me for, hm?"

"I dunno," you smiled coyly, running a finger down his chest, "guess I just thought you were cute…"

"Cute?!" he scoffed incredulously.

"Yeah… and sweet… you know, you go around actin' all tough and stuff, but I think you're really just harmless."

He cut you off with a growl as he lightly bit at your neck, holding your arms down again and tightening his grip on your wrists until you yelped and giggled happily. "Oh, honey, you have no idea yet just how monstrous I can really be…"

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x you #werewolf!lee bodecker #?? how do I tag this lol

983 notes · View notes

lackingspace · 3 years

Text

Null Moon (Marko x Reader)

Rating: SFW

Word Count:5.5k

Summary: Due to some mad bogus circumstances your hand was forced into relocating to the Santa Carla witch coven. Not exactly where you saw yourself, but beggars cant be choosers or however that saying goes. New coven, new community, no idea how this was going to play out, what could go wrong?

Warnings: Nothing really. Just 80s slang, some suggestive themes, trigger warning for witchcraft I guess, vampire boys doing stalky vampire things, and expanding the magical community at large. Throw in psychic fliting too. The only real warning here is that I wax soliloquy, stopping me is impossible.

So I watched Lost Boys again and Marko just too pretty and wouldn’t stop, so I had to write about it. I’m dedicated to worldbuilding because it pleases me, so no smut yet, but don’t worry, its comin. Enjoy the 80s slang sprinkled everywhere. Out of no where I know, but I hope you all like it ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Part 2: Blood Moon ✧･ﾟ:

Salt was something you’d found yourself trying to quickly get accustomed to. Don’t get it twisted, you weren’t mental and liked it in your food just fine, but it was in everything here. It was bogus, really. None of your new sisters warned you about the mundane annoyances when relocating to their beachfront town.

It was almost insidious how it could worm its way into just about anywhere and everything. Even on days you were a shut-in, your hair still had a salty ocean breeze scent and you swore you’d find grains of sand in the oddest of places. It wasn’t that big of a deal, just another thing out of your control-- one you’d never be able to change.

The atmosphere answered to no one. Maybe this was the ocean’s way of welcoming you into the fold? Taking it as a sign that the gods were pleased with your departure from the Louisiana coven helped soothe the bitter ache.

You had other things to occupy your thoughts, anyway. Nothing exciting, just the very normal, very stressful situations that came with moving. Having a not so smooth departure made your integration into this coven rocky. Trying to smooth that out while accommodating for the new energy and dynamic of the community made things difficult. Stressful? Definitely. Normal? Unfortunately. Hectic? Totally, but still necessary to process.

Getting to know your new coven sisters was also proving tedious, certain views not quite matching up. At least you were kept too busy to really worry over it. Keeping your mind occupied made everything easier. Even if they didn’t know why you’d really been looking to transfer, it was no secret on their end why they’d been so eager to accept you. They’d had a very specific position that none of the current members were willing to entertain.

A major part of the job was the operation of the coven owned metaphysical shop on the boardwalk, night shift specifically. That had a swirl of mixed emotions bristle your senses- excitement just edging out over apprehension. Your old coven hadn't been open to the human public in any way, shape, or form. The practice was sacred and you were taught to keep it that way.

The only non-paranormal individuals allowed within the walls were partners of the community. A werewolf's mate, for instance, maybe suffering an energetic imbalance would be brought in. So dealing with the stuffy clueless human populace nightly? Well, the idea was less than stellar...but survival required adaptation, and you could be flexible. Still, predicting the havoc it’d play on your nerves was easy. Good thing wine existed because having a glass a day was majorly on the agenda.

Oh well, every job had to have something and each place had slightly different energetic needs, different spiritual practices, and don’t even get you started on the nuances of rituals- everyone and their mom have their own twist. Baton Rouge had been a prime example of that- a hotbed for the magical community, it was embedded in the culture. Overflowing with a little something for everyone and then some. Different ailments, practices, people, and best of all different magics.

On the other hand, all that variety came at the cost of a massive headache in interspecies politics. Witches and vampires, weres and goblins, selkies and sirens, demons and wendigos, elementals and everyone, keeping up with who was at who's throat was exhausting. It gave you a gnarly stomach ache frankly, but if that was the price of learning your craft, well, it wasn't that steep.

Headache, stomach pains, whatever- it was a price you'd gladly pay- had paid. Plus, you had loved the community there. Once you got past the politics there was a wealth of knowledge and power just floating around, free for grabs- even when it wasn’t free, there were ways to get what you’d wanted.

Admitting that your departure had left hella bitter resentment towards your previous sisters was something you actively denied. Your new high priestess hadn’t wanted any hexes sent their way following her acceptance of you. Assuring her it was a mutual departure had been easy, they were extremely desperate and hadn’t really gone through all the hoops to look into it. Besides, it was technically true, there wouldn’t be hexes, just bad blood. There wasn’t really a need to let them know they’d be black listed from the area communals. You’d been to enough of them in the past, they weren’t that special anyway.

Here, alone in the dark with your thoughts, you could sit with the discontent. The choice to leave hadn’t been yours, but you could admit it was for the best. When faced with exile you were willing to sacrifice. Resentment notwithstanding, growth rarely happened if you stayed stagnant for too long. This could actually be a blessing in disguise, even with the perpetual gallons of salt. So here you were; New city, new coven, new people, new rules.

A sigh escaped you at the thought as you put on a nice balancing act for anyone watching. The rules were certainly different here.

Less in some ways, more in others- some very curious agreements. Carefully trying, and trying being the keyword, to descend some questionable-looking stairs while carrying delicate cargo. It being pitch black didn't exactly help either, but at twelve am with no flashlight, the darkness was expected.

Not like you could carry one right now anyway and you’d be caught dead before you put on one of those gaudy forehead lights. A distant bonfire, presumably with partygoers, a few miles off was the only source of light outside of the odd shop still lighting up the boardwalk in the distance.

Neither were a help to you here, but the darkness didn't bother you much, it was more the feeling of the wood against your feet that had you on edge. Foregoing shoes had seemed like the smarter choice knowing you'd be walking in the loose sugary sand, but with the way it mixed against the rough wood to scratch against the arch of your foot? Regret was front and center which only exacerbating your already agitated mind.

Catching your toe on an uneven patch in the wood had you hissing in pain. Someone was def getting cursed if you got a splinter. Actually, you'd be surprised if you made it out without one. These steps were legit grody, they barely even qualified as stairs honestly.

Just some half termite eaten planks, driftwood more likely, definitely nothing professional, all nailed together and stuck into the side of a steep sand dune. Falling on your ass at some point was almost guaranteed- You were always a major klutz in these situations.

Shrugging your shoulder and regripping the box, at least the sand would give you a semi-soft landing whenever it happened.

You should thank whatever beachrat made these stairs though, adjusting your grip on the box again had the jars inside clanking together, water sloshing- good thing you'd tightened the lids before leaving the shop. Thanks to these little stairs you didn’t have to miserably fail at trying your luck in midnight sand surfing. If this was midday you’d have trouble with it still- trying sand surfing now? That'd be so warped. Ugh, just imagine having to make your way back up? Now that'd be a real treat- psych.

When both feet planted safely, and surprisingly splinter-free, in the soft sand you shook yourself into focus. No more letting your thoughts drive you, way too much negativity to unpack and you didn't need that energy seeping into your work here. Moon-water wasn’t usually the most influenceable, but you could, and with your attitude the way it was? You’d totally choke if you didn’t check yourself. No need to mess up your first job, right?

Breathing deeply you set about focusing your mind; grounding, feeling yourself coming back to a controlled center was the first step of your job here tonight. Tightening your grip and breathing in had the scent of the ocean hit you full force. With practiced ease, focusing inward had your eyes naturally drifting shut and calm settle over you. It was incredible how soothing grounding- ritual in general really, could be.

Your next inhale highlighted the subtle undertones of the boardwalk overlaid in the breeze, an amalgamation that fused into a scent uniquely Santa Carla. Letting your energy sink deep within you, then lower down still, dropping into the earth, feeling the vibrations of your surroundings- naturally letting it mix with the energies surrounding you. The ocean was a powerful tool, you'd be a ditz to ignore its embrace. There was an unusual magnetic pull in the air, a buzz that licked against your senses.

The full moon was calling, and like the ocean, you were here to answer.

Centered and ready to work you made your way down to the shore. Funny thing about this new coven, part of the new rules was night rituals were restricted to a single practitioner. That restriction had seemed mental to you, and frankly? You still thought they were a bit out there to bend to such restrictions, but once you learned there was a surprisingly sizable vampire pack in the area it had made more sense. Having just one practitioner was easier for accountability and all that, but like, it was still twisted.

Vampires were picky. They claimed a territory and stuck to it. Any other lucky supernatural creature was subject to their "authority". Barf me out with that attitude. If they weren't solitary, it was usually a duo, anything more than a trio was especially rare. Vampires could be mega volatile in general, but especially towards one another. The fact that there were at least four confirmed vamps in the area? Now, that piqued your interest. Their bonds had to be radically tight to stay together with any type of calm.

Unfortunately, vampires and witches? Typically not such a hot mix.

Vampires and magic didn't always mesh well and historically that meant witches and vampires couldn't play nice together. Funnily enough, this coven didn't go against status quo- every sister you'd met so far vehemently detested vamps. Too bad they were smackdab in the middle of fang city.

The location being legit brill had something to do with how docile the coven acted. It said something when witches were willing to take shit and obey in order to practice. Energetically potent, magically powerful, Santa Carla was a delightful nexus. Not to mention scenic too.

The coven was desperate for someone to be the designated night ritualist, working the stores night shift was just a caveat. The timing had worked out because you were just as desperate. You thought the whole vampire witch feud thing was lame, but it’d saved you from ex-communication, so you'd keep that tidbit to yourself.

Vampires didn't bother you really. Well, they could, but not because the vampy bit, just the entitled attitude. Anyone could be a barf bag regardless of what they were. You'd met just as many ditzy witches as narbo vamps. You were more concerned that you'd most definitely have human tourists bombarding you every night.

What got you though was the craziest part of the deal. When within a 15 mile radius of the boardwalk there was a restriction to strictly restorative work. Even being a nexus, you weren’t sure this place was worth neutering yourself energetically for. Sure, vampire's had their reasons, severe sensitivity to magic yada-yada, not to mention if their bond was as tight as you assumed, they probably felt active magic like nails on a chalkboard, but damn.

You couldn’t believe the high priestess would agree to it. It really seemed the witches got the short end of the stick here. You weren’t seeing a lot of benefits for yourself. So far your opinion on the coven was….well, at this point you were half-convinced you’d joined a gaggle of ditzes.

Having taken stock of the ingredients they had on hand a quick glance had made replenishing the monthly moon water a top priority. It was such a simple thing, very useful, super versatile, and no one in the coven had been willing to make a large batch of it. Ugh, imagine letting prejudice get in the way of making such a staple ingredient. There wasn't anything fancy that went into it. A cool head, even temper, patience, and a little prep was all that it needed.

That’s what you were here for now, though. They could keep their dislike and eat their cake too. Still, you weren’t completely obstinate and took their warning to heart, it wasn't just the vampires that made the area witches refuse the night shift.

Santa Carla wasn’t exactly Disneyland. Murder was a thing and it happened here daily. Nexus’s tended to have a magnetic draw. Pulling in powerful things, good things, weak things, bad things- the sheer unpredictability wasn’t a friend in this case.

A random human could decide tonight was beach shanking night and you’d be the lucky victim. You’d like to see them try at least. Maybe one of the vampire pack would break the agreement if they were feeling a bit nippy? Doubtful if they didn’t want a war on their hands, but possible. A stray wendigo attracted to your energy feeling a midnight snack seemed more likely. Could even be a banshee needing a quick meal. Never can tell how things were going to work out.

Knowing yourself though, you’d probably just trip up those hella grimy stairs and break your neck.

You weren’t too worried about being attacked though, honestly. You had wards in place and if it got past that, well, you'd deal with whatever it was then. No use worrying about it now. You were more than happy to take on the privilege to essentially moon bathe on the beach while funneling the energy to the water. It was good on all levels.

Walking to the area you’d scouted during the day set your mind back into focus. Setting the box down, the jars jostling while you grabbed the blanket hanging off the side of the box. Spreading it out and setting up your area had everything falling in place. The jars spread just along the outside of your circular blanket, with that done you sat yourself down in the center.

Determined to do this right you brought back that focused rooted energy. Using this as an opportunity to release some built-up tension would be a good idea too. Let the ocean wash away your bitterness with the tide and allow the moon to shift you into clarity for whatever was to come. Even if you did think your new sisters were idiots, they were to be your idiots and you had to embrace it.

As you laid there working the energy and letting it shift, you noticed a curious sensation at the edge of your perception.

A slight tickling at the fringe of your awareness; soft, so extremely soft and subtle that if you’d just gone about your business and hadn’t been so introspective focused you’d totally have passed it over.

Watched.

The subtle sensation wasn’t threatening as of yet, but you were definitely being watched. By what? You weren’t sure. Getting a firm reading on it was difficult. The more you focused on the energy the further it pulled back. Pursuing it only had whoever it was slyly staying just out of your grasp.

Definitely not human. Wouldn’t be a witch or a medium either, they’d just answer your psychic questioning. Could be a were, you’d heard they’d been in the area recently. The next brush sent a shiver down your spine and had you crossing weres off. It was definitely too silky to be one, they always felt gruffer to you, wilder. Possibly a demon, they had that shade of sensuality and always liked to follow you around in new territory. A quick flash of tightly-wound sharp control coated in a mischievous air finally spit out the answer; Vampire.

Satisfied, you dropped the pursuit and turned your attention back to the sea. Subtle brushes returning, but this time not trying to hide itself or their interest. So one of the new overlords had decided to drop in on their new subject? That was just fine as long as they stayed watching and didn’t interfere.

You’d give it to whichever vamp this was. They had wicked nice energy. Like, once you got a read on that was. Playful, cheeky almost to a fae’s degree, brimming with an elusive danger, while still having a quiet peace underneath. That quiet calm resonated inside your own field and was exactly what you needed to settle back into your space. You didn’t hate the idea of their company so much.

You’d expected a run-in at some point, but right away? They were some go-getters to the max.

Nothing came of it though, the watcher had just been that. A watcher. When three am came, went, and passed, you’d decided to pack things up. You felt their vigilant gaze the entire time. Even after you got in your car and motored on home, it was still with you. It was only after you entered your home did their light press on your awareness leave.

The rest of your week played out much the same. Feeling that attentive gaze in every outside ritual from start to well after the finish. Even while you were working the shop they’d pop in and out of your awareness only to settle when you were locking up for the night.

You’d tried to catch a glimpse of who your designated monitor was, but it proved an impossible task. Stealth was a vampire’s friend and this one was incredibly apt. They stayed just far enough away during ritual and on the boardwalk you were too busy entertaining space cadet humans or dealing with an actual client to seek them out.

On that note, there was a surprising number of shapeshifters in the area, changelings especially had been a nice treat. They weren’t exactly common in Louisiana and working with them was always interesting. They required a delicate eye and full attention when diagnosing their condition.

A shapeshifter’s physicality was entirely based on energy manipulation, so one wrong push or pull and you could injure them more than help. Pinpointing where your attentive observer was out in the crowd became annoyingly out of the question.

They’d turn up eventually. Until then, however, you’d just have to sit tight. Lucky for you changelings had a penchant for gossiping. They’d been kind enough to give you a rundown on the pack and their opinion of them. Changelings weren’t known to have easily won loyalty, so the popular opinion on them being pretty rad, was surprising.

They were apparently chill on the authority, which was shocking enough, but they said the pack leader, David, could be hella genial. Vampires weren’t usually described that way. Not outside of the anyone they were glamouring anyway. Maybe the coven weren’t such spazes to reside here.

Friday saw your week coming to a close. You’d woken up ready to put your first week behind you and spend the weekend really exploring the area. There was a nice hiking trail not too far away that you’d really wanted to spend some time at. A few brownies had spirited into the shop and mentioned it as a great area for herbs and ritual during conversation.

Brewing a second cup of tea, calming herbs this time- regular humans really did get on your nerves with their incessant brainless questions and barf bag attitude. There were a few mediums that'd dropped in who you didn't mind, actually really liked, but the rest of the human race made you want to gag. Lumping witches and poor mediums into the same category didn’t seem fair.

The night was steadily cruising along. The humans came in bursts, sporadic, but manageable. Client-wise, nothing too dramatic either, the most interesting case was a few sprites suffering a nasty goblin hex. It was an easy enough fix, orders on how to use the herbs, and a cautionary chastising to leave the gobbies alone unless invited. They giggled their departure as you shook your head, sprites never learned.

The night's energy had you listless. Only a few hours left before you could close down shop and you were antsy. No pressing ceremonies to perform tonight for the coven either, so heading straight home to open that bottle of wine you'd acquired before your arrival was on the top of the to-do list.

Curiously, your nightly specter hadn't visited once. It was surprising how fast you'd gotten used to a vampire’s energy body. If you were honest with yourself, you'd even come to look forward to having it- him, the changelings had listed only male vampires, being a steady sensation on the outer edges of your senses.

The absence of the strange new routine left you with an unsettled itch. Something was off, you could tell, your antsiness screamed of something about to happen, you just weren't sure what.

The answer came not too long after that. With a lull of what you assumed to be the last customers of the night, you’d busied yourself restocking and starting to close down. High on the shelf ladder reorganizing the herb wall. It got so messy with the daily run-through of customers’ grubby hands all over it. Turning a jar forward as the bell above the door sounded.

"Welcome! I'll be-" the energy that zapped your senses had you cut off the greeting with a sharp inhale. Thank the gods you hadn't been holding one of the glass jars, it'd be smithereens otherwise.

The shift had hit you instantly, an electric buzz that lapped against your mental self. Giving you a clear idea of what just walked in. Four of them. They'd all come. Shifting through the sensation, trying to grasp each of their unique patterns had you stopping short when you felt your chaperone's energy reach out to you.

It wasn't just a soft prodding like usual, instead, it was like a full-body caress. More like a lick if you were honest.

Skin tingling, electric sparks sent down your spine settling somewhere you'd rather not question right now, and if your nipples had tightened from it? Well, that was nobody's business. Beneath the shameless lick was an urge of reassurance.

The unspoken highly nuanced language assuring you of safety. Thank the goddess you were fluent. It was odd, really, a vampire reassuring a witch of their safety? You weren't prey, not if they wanted the coven to stay placid. Even if they’d decided to attack you weren’t helpless. The kiddie gloves would come off quicker than lightning and then they’d see what was up.

They’d definitely break you, but you’d do some damage. So there wasn't any rhyme or reason to make you feel safe or calmed. Nothing you could think of except for your own peace of mind. It had a giggle bubbling up, but you clamped down before it could escape.

You appreciate the sentiment regardless and dragged your energy against his in return, showing your mirth, and if he was apt enough to recognize the instant anxiety their entrance caused, he'd feel the praise underneath.

Taking a deep inhale before steeling yourself. You'd anticipated that it was only a matter of time before a meeting. The high priestess had said it’d come at some point when they felt ready, so you were decidedly not going to freak out and treat them like any other customer. Even if one of them had already made your nipples pebble.

You were also so ready to end the mystery of what your babysitter looked like. Putting a face to, well not a name, but an energetic signature rather. Stepping down from the ladder you made your way towards the front counter.

They were milling about between aisle shelving so getting a clear look wasn’t working. You could see bits of hair, flashes of leather, and hear their banter- typical dudes messing with each other. You were right, hearing how affable they were with each other solidified that they def have a legit bond.

Waiting another minute behind that counter still hadn’t made them come to you. Sighing before you decided to speak up, "What can I help you with tonight?" That had the laughter in the back trickle off before a rumbling voice spoke out, "Many things, maybe nothing. Depends on what you're offering." He hadn’t needed to emerge from the aisle for you to feel the leer paired with that statement. Ah, so David was the edgy type. You could work with that.

What you might stumble over though, was just how pretty they all were.

Don't get it wrong, Vampires were supposed to be attractive, it was part of their thing. A magnetic and alluring shift happened to them all when they were turned, but this? This was on another level.

The vague memory of lessons from your old covens compendium on vampiric lore came to mind. It’d stated the first vampire came into existence born by way of an incubus mingling in a maenads rites with a medium. Their resulting child the first vampire.

Who knew how accurate those stories were, the compendium was specific to each coven; an enduring collection of their line of knowledge, but authenticity was always questionable.

Looking at them all as they emerged- really made you believe there was some weighted truth to the legend. Incubus certainly seemed like it was mingled up in them. You’d been gifted by a few incubi once upon a time and the similarities between them and these boys? Striking. Between their movements, their magnetic presences, and the brazen way they gazed at you.

The vampires in Louisiana were all charming, but it was all a subtle compulsion. It didn’t help that they typically had a bad attitude mixed with antiquated style. They just never appealed to you.

This pack, however, seems like they’d had no problem keeping up with pop culture. Embracing it wholeheartedly, one of them looked like he moonlighted in poison for crying out loud. Maybe they were young, but you got a vibe that hinted otherwise. More like they were adaptable.

Trying to keep a straight face, professionalism and all that, was difficult, but doable. At least you thought it was, but once you locked eyes with a pair of soulful hazel- there was no doubt that they all felt the psychic warble you let slip accidentally.

He’d been the elusive watcher this week. There wasn’t a question about it, a perfect face to match his auric self. The breath you’d been holding choked out when he broke into an impish grin followed by what was essentially another playful full-body kiss.

You swore you could hear a purr resound in your mind. The three subordinates chuckled when you drew in a sharp intake.

“Marko.” David's tenor was soft, but firm. Marko? Cute. Without breaking eye contact, his smile widened mischievously while he raised both hands in surrender. The undivided attention was unsettling in all the right ways.

Sparking a heat that undulated throughout you. Tabling that information to the back of your mind, you broke the gaze. Needed to if you were going to have any kind of brain function for conversation.

Turning to the de facto leader you sized him up. Or tried to. Definitely threatening, actively making it hard to read him. On the surface he felt like a cold blade; sharp, decisive, piercing.

Good qualities for a leader you supposed, but like, damn, that didn’t sate your curiosity. If he wasn’t going to work with you then that only left the boring way, “David, I presume?”

He raised a brow with a pleased look, “Good. The little crone knows who matters around here.” Bo-guuus, edgy with an attitude. Those changelings either lied or were talking about someone different because genial? You weren’t seeing it. Aiming an unimpressed look paired with a, “Mmhmm” brought a chuckle of his own.

Waiting for him to speak again seemed like the best option, you weren’t very good at small talk, and Marko was still so very distracting. After David’s chiding, he really hadn’t let up much. He might not be doing that lick thing with the delightful heat, but what he was doing wasn’t far off.

Going out of his way to make sure a large portion of your attention was still focused on him by continually baiting you; almost like energetic petting. If you weren’t trying to have a serious conversation you’d bask in the new attention. You weren’t a cat, but you imagined this is what they must have felt like. Psychic flirting was always fun, but his attention had it quickly becoming your favorite.

With him doing it in front of his pack though? Any sensible person, witch especially should be uncomfortable. Totally pissed if not outraged- it was definitely a claim, unnervingly possessive, and you shouldn’t like the blatant territorial display, but for some reason, it stroked something deep in your harebrain that majorly worked for you.

Before you could drop down that rabbit hole further David brought you back, “You’ve been a busy little witch this past week.” Annoyance fluttered in, what’d he expect? There hadn’t been a night ritualist for over a year. There was a lot of work to do, some things just couldn’t be done during the day.

You shrugged “Ha, massive understatement. New coven, new clients, way too many neglected things to catch up on. Seems like you should thank me for taking over.”

The look he gave you was piercing and indiscernible. You weren’t really sure where you stood with him. You hadn’t done anything to step out of the bounds they’d placed on you, but somehow with the look he was leveling at you begged the question, had you?

Mentally retracing your week yielded nothing. Hadn’t even tried to hex anyone, even that human who’d cut you off on your drive in Wednesday night, now that’d been difficult. Was this why you’d had such heavy surveillance? Not that you’d minded, but here you thought it was just your shining personality.

“Keep it up. The community needs a witch with some spine.” Maybe you’d spoke too soon, he might not be so bad.

“I wasn’t so sure about you. Word on the street and all.” That had you freeze. Not even Marko’s continued attention phased you. There was no way he knew anything. That was impossible. Your new coven didn’t know, your old coven wouldn't dare let anything slip- it wouldn’t just be you who lost face.

There was no way anyone knew anything about you or why you’d moved. It had to be a bluff, a well aimed taunt. It was common knowledge that witches rarely transferred covens, it happened for a multitude of reasons- good, bad, ugly. He was just being a dickhead, a nosy dickhead.

Forcing a calm mask even though you were sure they could all hear your rapid heartbeat, trying not to play into his bait, “Oh? Word on the street? I have a rep already? Bitchin’.”

Anxiety was a mega issue for you, so not having a cow and playing it as chill as you did? A total moment for you. clammy hands, rapid heartbeat, clenched jaw and all. That pulled a laugh out of Marko and the hair band look-alike while David and the clydesdale in the back wore smirks.

“Word is the new witch isn’t from the clique. Never can tell what you little hags are planning, bringing in new blood?” He leaned forward across the counter catching you with his piercing blues, “That has trouble written all over it.”

You were slow to process what he’d actually said, too caught up in how the light glinted off his pretty eyes. There was no denying it, so you didn’t try, “For sure,” but on second thought you didn’t want to make it sound like you were here to start shit, “but change isn’t always bad.”

He tapped the glass of the counter before he pushed off, “We’ll see about that, little hag”. That must have been the signal to leave because he’d started walking towards the door with the silent type in his shadow.

Marko hadn’t moved, hadn’t dropped his attention and you were nervous to return it. Too likely to get caught up in something now that they were all leaving. You liked it, but it was still like mega nerve-racking.

Before you could work up the confidence to engage with whatever that was, the taller blonde slapped his shoulder, “I like this chick! She’s got some spunk!”

He made to push away from the vampire still comfortably leaning against the counter, but something had caught your eye. Without thinking, your hand shot out like a viper to grip his wrist before he could walk any further away, “Wait up!” Marko’s purr, or whatever that buzz he was coating you in suddenly sputtered out.

With everyone’s attention returning, you dropped the skin contact and made your way around the counter. Standing in front of him while quickly giving him a psychic once over. His tallness made it very inconvenient to look for the physical indicator of what you suspected. With a yank to his shoulder you spoke before you really thought how it’d be taken, “Bend down and show me your teeth.”

257 notes · View notes

myluciferiscody · 3 years

Text

Haunted (Happy Halloween!)

pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader

word count: 3,133

warnings/notes: modern time, language, haunted house shenanigans, lots of scares and fluff

Halloween Night

You clenched the passenger door of Xavier's van as he pulled into the gravel parking lot of one of the scariest haunted houses in California. The sky was darkening as the forest around you became more ominous. You heard the excited giggles of Brooke Thompson and Montana Duke in the back as Chet Clancy and Ray Powell spoke of how "unscared they were."

You thoroughly enjoyed October and the Halloween festivities. However, you always avoided haunted houses of any kind. You felt great anxiety at the thought of being scared, and the last one you went to left a wrong impression on your ten-year-old brain. You were only convinced to come tonight because of your friends. You thought being with them would help ease your stress, and the boys had a sense of humor that could make you forget your troubles for the night.

You were almost frozen as the doors swung open, and your friends piled out, the crisp air ruffling your hair as Xavier walked around to your side, opening the door for you. He could see the tension in your shoulders the entire ride from your shared apartment.

"Babe, you good?" he asked, placing a hand on your leg.

"I'm nervous," you admitted, unbuckling your seatbelt with shaky hands. Xavier helped you out, wrapping an arm around you as he shut the door. "I'd rather be at home."

"We'll keep you safe, y/n!" Ray said, nudging Chet in the bicep. "I'd say we're scarier than anything you'll find in there." he stuck a thumb towards the entrance of the forest, where people were all but running to get in line for tickets.

Montana and Brooke let out a belly laugh, pointing out Ray's lanky figure compared to Chet's buff physique. Even Xavier smirked, pressing a kiss to your head as you follow your friends to hell on Earth.

As you waited in line, you focused on the music playing through a speaker. It was a nice but temporary distraction to your pounding heart. You were humming Monster Mash, as Chet talked about the year before someone had a heart attack and died in the forest.

"Nobody died!" Brooke said, reaching up to smack the back of his thick head. You swallowed, leaning against Xavier, who was mumbling to himself.

"It's true," a girl in front of you turned around, her eyes sparkling with interest. "I was here. It was some older guy, they jumped out and scared him and he went right down." her friends behind her were nodding in agreement.

"Thank you!" Montana said her tone flat as the girl turned around, happy with her input into the story. Montana sidled to your opposite side, meeting Xavier's eyes over your head. "I wouldn't listen to her, y/n, it's not that scary in there."

You winced as a shrill scream coming from the forest interrupted Montana, before the sounds of roaring laughter filled the air as a girl and her friends came running out, screaming at the top of their lungs. Masked characters came running out, waving their bloody weapons, and shouted after them.

"Lord strike me down." you said to whoever was listening. Xavier hugged you tighter as you progressed in line. For the next twenty minutes, you focused on the Halloween playlist, and Xavier asking you if you were okay every few minutes.

The closer you got to the front, the more distractions that came along. You were eventually talking and laughing with your group as the boys tried to decide who was man enough to go first.

When it was your turn to pay, you had to sign a waiver. Your hands shook as you scrawled your name, and you were given wristbands. You glanced at the names of all three attractions, apparently tame to scariest.

"Let's go!" Ray cheered, running to the first one. The Hayride. The line was small, and you guys were definitely on the next ride. Montana and Brooke were holding onto you, both admitting they were a little nervous. Xavier was arguing with the boys over why he can't go first in the mazes; he was protecting you. You smiled, thinking maybe it would be okay after all.

It wasn't long before the line grew, and the tractor pulling two trailers arrived. You took a deep breath as they starting boarding.

The boys told you to pick a spot in the first trailer, and you settled in the middle. You sat between Brooke and Xavier as everyone found a place. You glanced behind you through the caged trailer, seeing characters walking around and throwing themselves at people. Someone dropped their drink and took off in the other direction.

You felt the engine start and multiple people around you cheered. Ray was hooting, and Chet was clapping. You laughed when Ray said, "that was the whitest shit ever."

You listened as an automated voice came over the speaker, spouting basic safety rules, and to exit the vehicle only due to emergencies or when it came to a stop at the forest. You held your breath as the driver pulled onto the dirt track, soon encasing the trailer in darkness as people giggled and cheered.

"This is kind of exciting..." you said to Xavier, who allowed you to lean into him.

"I say that now, at least." you smiled as Xavier laughed.

"You'll be fine, I promise." he said before you both yelled in fright as someone ran up to the ride and beat on the metal cage. Brooke was on Montana's lap as the guy ran down the wagon, scaring others and yelling like a maniac.

You felt the adrenaline as more people came out, climbing onto the ride and overall scaring the shit out of everyone. You found yourself laughing and screaming with your friends and having a great time. You almost peed yourself at the sight of Chet sitting on Ray's lap, screaming bloody murder as a lunatic tried grabbing at them from the outside.

You had to admit some of the scenes they set up were pretty gnarly, making you and Brooke gag as Xavier and the boys gawked at the fake gore. Other times you rolled your eyes at the cheesy parts. Before you knew it, the ride was over, and there was the entrance to the Fear Forest, where you had to wander around the dimly lit grounds to find your way out.

You felt the adrenaline wear off as you followed the guys out, holding tightly to Xavier's hands as people all but ran to get in line. The girls followed behind, talking about the guy pretending to cut a woman's legs off on a dirty medical table.

You had a few groups ahead, so you took the time to hold on tightly to Xavier as he talked about being hungry. You listened to him speak about these nachos he had the year before, and you felt your belly growl in response.

"You're smiling," he commented, smiling down at you. "Are you feeling better, I take it?"

"Well the first time was alright," you said, "I'm not sure about..." you swallowed, looking into the dark forest. You heard screaming and the sound of fake chainsaws. "That."

"They're not going to split us up this time right?" Chet asked loudly. You froze, gripping Xavier tighter until he was begging for you to ease your grip.

"They better not!" Montana and Brooke said simultaneously. You could tell they were scared too, even Montana, who was hardly scared of anything. "It looks like we don't have to use flashlights at least."

The only group separating you from the forest was given permission to go. You held onto Xavier tightly as Ray and Chet bounced in place, still arguing on why the other has the right to be the lead. The only employee around was chomping on gum and playing on their phone, their earpiece blinking blue every other second.

"I'm going to vomit." you told Xavier.

"It's going to be fine, babe," Xavier mumbled under his breath. "Trust me. I almost peed myself going in here the first time. It's normal anxiety."

You nodded, squeezing his hand, "You're right. Just normal anxiety..."

The kid at the podium set down his phone and said, "You're good to pass. Don't get lost, now."

Your feet were frozen as you followed after the guys, Montana and Brooke, pushing up next to you and Xavier as you took the first steps into the woods. The lightning was low but well enough to light the way. There were strobe lights in the distance, and you could still see other groups along the way. You weren't entirely alone.

The first few minutes were just walking with a few props and animatronics barking things at you. You noticed people lurking in the bushes and trees dressed as famous slashers.

You managed to keep your footing, but Ray, in his nervous-excitement tripped over a branch and fell forward, yelping as Chet was laughing too hard to help him up. Brooke ran to his aid, trying to hide her own giggles.

"Are you sure you don't wanna walk with me?" Ray wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Hell no, I'm not going first." she released him, going back to Montana, who nodded in agreement and linked their arms together.

Things quickly became scary as actors came every few steps, screaming at you for help or threatening to chop you up. You slowly felt the adrenaline creeping back up, but the dark forest still flared your anxiety Xavier shielded you for the most part, but even he got scared and tried to run away.

"Holy!" Ray yelled, running into Chet, who was right beside him. "You go first, man! You're the tough guy!" He shoved Chet ahead before running to the back with Brooke and Montana.

"Fuck!" Chet said, puffing out his chest. "Fuck you, Ray." he said, attempting to look tough, but his voice crack said otherwise. "You guys have my back, right?" he asked you and Xavier.

You had to giggle, "Yes." you and Xavier answered.

"Thank God..." he said before continuing the trek down the forest.

Now that you were practically in front, you realized it wasn't hard to see who was lurking in the shadows. Of course, you still screeched like a banshee and tried to run when someone got too close. The scenes they had set up were gorier than before, and you were more disturbed than scared when you finally reached the exit.

"Victory!" Ray called from behind as you all piled into a clearing with food vendors and people chilling out. You heard Xavier mumble something to Chet, causing them to both laugh loudly.

"That wasn't bad at all..." Brooke said, still holding Montana as if they were conjoined twins.

"Exactly..." Montana said, "Anyone want food?..."

"Yes." you all answered in unison.

You breathed a sigh of relief, two attractions down, one to go.

You waited in line while the others went their separate ways.

"I thought it would be worse." you admitted, "I feel a little ridiculous now."

"You're doing great, babe." Xavier said, grinning as you observed the menu. "No signs of a heart attack."

Xavier shook his head, "No, it was kind of cute." He said, and you nudged him to move forward. "You know you didn't have to come. They would have lived."

You shrugged, "I wasn't going to come. But I've been avoiding them since I was a kid. I'm happy I came though, its been fun watching you get scared."

Brooke and Ray were already seated with food, and you sat with them. Ray was proud of himself despite chickening out and leaving Chet alone. Brooke was teasing him when the other two joined you, and you spent a good hour or so eating and relaxing.

Xavier mocked your laugh before it was your time to order. You got the exact thing and pouted when he paid for everything. He smirked all the way back to the picnic tables as your mouth watered.

"Are we ready to tackle the last one?" Chet asked after a while. The gang all shared looks before ultimately settling on you.

With food in your belly and a surge of confidence, you nodded. "Let's do it."

The final maze was an old asylum, and the outside looked creepy as hell. You got in line, staring up at the dark windows and waiting for the devil himself to appear in one of them.

"This is going to be gnarly," Chet said to Ray, who looked sick. "Too bad we ate right before."

You tried to ignore him, standing next to the girls as Xavier joined the boys, taunting them about who is going to chicken out first. Brooke and Montana both linked their arms with yours, and you quietly asked them if Chet was right.

"I'm pretty sure they used real limbs last year." Montana mumbled to you.

"That's not very reassuring..." you moaned.

"I think I saw real blood!" Brooke whispered.

"That doesn't help either!" you hissed.

The girls apologized as the line moved forward. It was the longest wait of all the attractions, and time seemed to drag on. You listened to the Halloween theme in the background and thought of being cozy on your couch, eating popcorn, and watching horror movies on television with Xavier.

After the hour-long wait passed, you and your friends were told to enter the Asylum. The boys went right inside, and you and the girls were dragging your feet as people behind you laughed and egged you to go inside.

The first hallway was completely dark, with only foot lamps. The guys were waiting, teasing the three of you as Xavier took your hand, pulling you close to him.

"Eat shit!" Montana said, smacking Chet on the back of the head.

"Ouch!" he yelled, hooking an arm around her shoulders. "Let's go, Montana!" he said, leading her to the front as she protested. "Let's get this show on the road!"

You followed them into the darkened hallways, seeing more props and set up scenes of treatments gone wrong and patients hurting themselves in some form or another. Xavier wrinkled his nose quite a bit, whispering to you if you thought that severed arm was real.

"SHIT!" Brooke and Montana squealed and ran for it as a man with a chainsaw, and a bloody pig mask flung himself from the shadows, and you and Xavier yelled and attempted to pull each other in opposite directions.

"THERE'S A FORK IN THE ROAD!" You heard Ray call around the corner. You and Xavier stopped behind the girls, looking as there were now two possible routes.

“Oh fuck," you said.

"Which way do we go?" Brooke asked.

"One thing is for sure. We're not splitting up!" Ray said. "I think we should let y/n decide."

Your eyes widened as they nodded in agreement, "why me!?"

"We trust your judgement," Montana said. "Hurry, they're going to force us to move along."

You shook your head, using your gut to quickly chose the left. The boys immediately walked down the aisle, and you followed, hoping whatever you decided wasn't going to send you to the Asylum yourself.

There were many strobe lights once you turned a few corners, and you and the gang were stumbling around as it was tough to see. You heard Montana curse every time someone stomped on her foot, and Brooke exclaiming she found an exit only to listen to her hit a wall.

"GREAT CHOICE, Y/N!" Ray yelled as if the lights made him deaf. "GO LEFT, SHE SAID."

"DON'T BLAME ME!" you said, accidentally grabbing Xavier's hood and unintentionally choking him. "YOU GUYS SAID TO PICK SO I DID!"

"Babe, I think I found an exit!" Xavier said excitedly, and you managed to open your eyes to see he was right.

"Guys, this way!" You called your friends, following Xavier out into the darkness. Your eyes were throbbing from the intensity of the strobe lights. You moved out of the way as your friends piled behind you, complaining about their eyes and asking if they were just abducted by aliens.

"It smells terrible in here!" you heard Montana complain, and you covered your nose as a wretched smell started wafting over you.

"I'd imagine this was what death smells like," Xavier said, wrinkling his nose. "I'm getting out of here."

You followed after him, seeing just blank walls and minimal lighting. You didn't think this attraction was that scary as the others and wondered if this were the end. You soon approached another fork in the road, except there were people in line on either side.

"I don't remember this part..." Chet said as you guys came to a stop.

"It must be new." Ray said frowning. The line was moving decently fast, and you couldn't fathom what was about to happen.

You watched as Xavier was gestured to walk forward, and he glanced back at you guys before disappearing.

"I don't like this..." you gulped, knowing you were next.

Someone dressed in a plague costume peeked around the corner and gestured for you to come forward. You did slowly, feeling your heart racing while you followed the hooded figure down the hall before he opened a door and gestured for you to go forward. When you did, he slammed the door.

You seemed to be alone, and you stared down the halls with lightly lit red walls. You wondered if you just had to finish the trek alone. You could do this, you thought to yourself as you took slow steps ahead. You didn't want to see any dark hallways again for the rest of your life.

After the first corner, you screamed so much your voice was hoarse. People were waiting on every corner, in every crevice, and they were after you to the point you started running, trying to get away. Every once in a while, you smelled something rotten, and you regretted eating those nachos.

You had no idea how many corners you turned and slashers you dodged before you finally reached the end. You almost cried when you felt the cold Fall breeze ruffle your hair. You ran down the small walkway to the clearing where you saw Xavier sitting on a bench. He jumped up at the sight of you, and you crashed into him, almost crying in relief; you had an adrenaline rush.

"That was horrible!" you gasped into his chest. "They were chasing me!'

"I got chased too," Xavier said, patting down your hair. "That was definitely new this year."

You glanced back at the haunted Asylum with a satisfied grin, knowing you'd probably come back next year.

It wasn't that bad.

#xavier plympton x reader #xavier plympton imagine #ahs imagine #ahs 1984 #xavier plympton #montana duke #brooke thompson #ray powell #happy halloween #xavier plympton fluff #michael langdon imagine #american horror story

102 notes · View notes

docmanda · 4 years

Note

Either Warmth or Invisible for the monster prompts?

@fixaidea why choose one when you can do both? ^^ I have no idea if this here is what the prompt intended but this is what my brain came up with^^ so enjoy (hopefully)

read it on AO3

Invisible

Helplessly stuck in the back of Shi Qingxuan´s head, powerless to do anything but be a sympathetic voice trying to console his friend as millenia old grievances finally break their way free in front of him Xie Lian has no time to think too much about anything more then reacting to the unfolding tragedy in front of him. And yet one thought gets stuck in his head, right in between Black Water´s snarling, tear streaked face and Shi Wudu´s cold, godly countenance: That sometimes the true monster isn't the one bristling with teeth and claws but the one hiding invisible behind a facade of righteousness.

Warmth

Xie Lian nearly trips over a tree root in his haste to put distance between him and his pursuers, the sudden stumble making him gasp in reflex before he can get himself back under control, sticky air ripe with spores travelling down his throat and making him cough. Another wave of dizziness hits him and he has to catch himself against the next tree, helplessly pressing a hand against his mouth to prevent himself from breathing, his body still demanding it even though it has stopped being a necessity long ago.

He is exhausted, it feels like it has been hours since he has gotten separated from his San Lang even though it couldn't have been more than maybe an incense stick worth of time since they had entered the wood, expecting some rogue demons or ghosts doing mischief. And they had found a small gaggle of weak ghosts hiding in between the gnarly trees, led by a single low class demon and fleeing from them the moment they saw the Devastation at his side. So they had given chase, not noticing that even though it looked like they were fleeing without any sense of direction they were in fact being led somewhere on purpose...and had fallen right into their trap.

Xie Lian had just been able to pull his San Lang to safety by the back of his tunic, flinging him halfway across the clearing in his haste to get him away from the hidden cluster of small greyish-purple mushrooms he had spotted against the base of a tree before their smell had hit him right on.

Everything else afterward had been a blur, the hallucinations brought on by the mushroom´ spores so vivid and substantial that even though Xie Lian knew that they weren't real he couldn't help himself and fled, sudden panic overpowering every sense of self preservation he might have had. And so he had run, followed by voices long dead, the branches of the trees turning into hands covered in blood gripping for his robes, pallid faces with blood streaked cheeks riddled with a disease that had long since been forgotten by the world hidden in every shadow, something silent and leering in white following his every step, accompanied by indulgent, warm laughter. Every time he had slowed down, his power being depleted by more than just his panicked flight, he could feel feverish hands reaching for him, probing if their prey was finally weak enough to succumb, sharp clawed fingers wrapping around his throat. So far he had always found enough strength left in him to evade them, stumbling away from the hungry shadows hiding behind every tree, slashing at them with a rusty old sword he had found by chance not too long ago while literally stumbling over it´s previous owner´s white, skeletal body.

Xie Lian is so tired that all he can do is lean heavily against a moss covered tree in relief when he can finally hear a frantic, well loved voice not too far away call his name, eyes tightly shut to keep the hallucinations out and call for him. It takes Crimson Rain Sought Flowers only seconds after that to be at his side again, warm hands cupping his face and his single black eye full of concern and worry, inspecting him for injuries before he pulls Xie Lian into a tight embrace, his voice gentle and concerned and soothing. The warmth of his embrace seeps through Xie Lian´s thin robes, feeling like fire against his sweat-soaked skin and he sobs once against a red clad chest, closing his eyes tight enough to hurt. The feeling of tears on his face as his old rusty blade stabs through muscle and bone, nailing Crimson Rain Sought Flower to the tree behind him is the first thing for hours that truly feels real.

And this is how Hua Cheng finds him: Sobbing, slumped down next to a tree, the body of a low class demon hanging from it with an old rusty blade impaled so deep into his chest that only the handle is still visible.

“Gege!”

Xie Lian´s eyes shoot open but before Hua Cheng can fully close the gap between them to hug him he is up like a flash, pulling the sword from the tree with a last burst of strength, it's tip wavering haphazardly against the Devastation´s throat and keeping him at a distance.

“Stop, right where you are.”

Xie Lian´s voice is barely audible, tinged with exhaustion and horror and longing so thick it makes Hua Cheng´s dead heart hurt in sympathy, the urge to just push away the sword and just gather him in his arms nearly unbearable. It would be no problem at all to simply overpower Xie Lian at this point, he is barely able to stand, and to grab him and take him home and have him safe...but he seems afraid of him and so Hua Cheng stands unmoving, his insides twisting in pain at the look of fear in his Beloved's eyes.

“..give me your hand.”

Hua Cheng does not question the order, slowly raising his hand to present it to Xie Lian, palm up, the red string tied around his middle finger vivid in the gloomy forest light. Xie Lian carefully shifts his stance so he can reach, the tip of his sword never once leaving Hua Cheng´s throat. His fingers feel feverish against the ghost's cold skin, sticky with sap and blood, his icy fingers curling around Xie Lian´s warm ones before he can help himself. But just as he is about to withdraw and apologize Xie Lian´s reluctant grip turns into a vice, his shoulders dropping at the same time as his sword does, something between a sob and a laugh escaping his lips as he janks Hua Cheng close in one rough motion, molding himself against him so tight as if he wants to climb right into his Devastation´s skin. Hua Cheng´s arms instinctively come up to hold him close, his God´s sweat-soaked, burning body shivering against the iciness of his own,dropping cool butterfly kisses onto Xie Lian´s dirty hair while he tries to soothe him before he calls for his butterflies to take them home.

Later, after his Beloved has been cleaned and comforted and lulled to sleep by gentle hands and medicine to help him get rid of the last lingering effects of the spores he will come back here and burn this place to the ground until nothing remains but charcoal and soil turned to glass. And Xie Lian will wake to the scent of smoke and white flowers, hold tightly against the cold body of the man he loves.

#@fixaidea #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #Xie Lian #Hua Cheng #HuaLian #me writing things #fixaidea

7 notes · View notes

jeffreydove · 3 years

Text

Sophia Woodsman: What Lies On The Moon

The sedan was old and rusted, but it was mine - and it was going to the moon. Come at me, NASA.

My car’s frame bucked as our speed increased on the rainbow road made of Starlight. Grace clutched the passenger door reflexively.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” She glanced at the shaking dashboard, “Either of you. We could have taken my dad’s town car.”

Grinning like a madwoman, I squeezed the bare steering wheel and laughed as Starlight shone on my face in a kaleidoscope of colors. Grace was reserved on the best of days, but today, her brown eyes had an especially severe edge to them.

“It’s fine, Grace,” I bubbled. “My car runs alright, and I’ve studied everything there is to know. Besides, I’m sure you’ve entered plenty of Starlight realms.”

Grace panicked, whipping her head to look at me incredulously. The car shook with a loud “Crack!” multi-colored light reflecting off the windows.

“What?! Sophia, what the hell? I’ve never done this before!”

Oh… she hadn’t? Without turning my head, I glanced at her out of the corner of my eyes. She raised her eyebrows with a small head shake as if to say, “Yeah, idiot.”

Returning my eyes to the dazzling road in front of me, I took a deep breath. Fear and adrenaline filled my chest as reality dripped away around us.

My voice was small, almost a whisper, “Right. We got this.”

In a single swipe of silvery light, our bodies dissipated. There wasn’t any pain, but I couldn’t tell if my life was just done or on a loading screen. My perception hung there in the silvery void - but with no “me” to speak of. I wanted to scream. Time for all that studying to save my life.

The book was Pockets in Space by the illustrious Alberto De Leon. “The realms of Starlight constitute pure intelligent existence, the basic building block of course then being - the decision.”

It wasn’t a great read.

“A caller must needs reconstitute oneself by invoking the essence of their identity. When difficult to determine, core personal decisions may be found by addressing this most basic of queries: What is most important to you?”

I could feel Grace next to me already forming back into herself. Dammit. I was the infamous Starcaller of Earth. I was the reason we could even attempt this in the first place. The reason we were here. But she was always better than me. Faster. Smarter. More level headed.

I was tired of being the second rate caller always getting shown up. I was ready to play in her league. Sure, I wasn’t a member of fancy House Majesty, but I could hold my own. This was my opportunity to show that, and I wanted that more than anything.

And there it was. I felt my body solidify, and found myself on the back of an animal with Grace. The moonlight around us was still forming an environment, but she was herself, as clear as ever. Her dark skin contrasted against a silvery satin dress. But her face was twisted in concern - as she looked at me.

I lifted little hands to my face, then examined thin spindly arms. The animal we were on stopped as my voice squeaked out, “This doesn’t seem quite right.”

Grace carefully shook her head, “No, Sophie. I think you did it wrong. You look like a kid.”

As we spoke, the animal got nervous, and rotated its long grey head around to look at us. It began braying, “Hee-haw, hee-haw.”

The creature bucked, and we both fell to the soft dirt ground. The beast looked sickly with droopy eyes and patchy fur. It regarded us with naked arrogance.

I exchanged a glance with Grace, “What’s with the judgmental donkey?”

She chuckled, “I would imagine that’s the noble steed we rode in on.”

My “car” looked me right in the eyes and peed. The smell went straight into my brain, tingling like wasabi. Grace gagged and we scurried away.

“When’s the last time you got your oil changed?” She gasped.

“Sunday?” I estimated.

“This last Sunday?”

“I mean I think it was on a Sunday.”

“Yeah, what year?”

“Shut up.”

Ignoring Grace for a moment, I took stock of our surroundings. It was a normal wooded area, but all in monochrome - the green of grass and leaves replaced with bright silver.

Starlight realms are deeply personal, and you can only enter realms of the planet you’re aligned to unless someone else brings you along. There aren’t any Starcallers of the moon, but the moon is subservient to the Earth, so we theorized I’d be able to get us here.

And I had. I took a moment to let that sink in. Despite whatever was going on with my body and the car, this had worked. Starlight power of the moon was only a theory - until now.

My tiny voice piped up, “We did it. It’s real.”

But I was a firm believer in save twice, save often. So I wanted out of this place, “Maybe we should head back now and tell the older callers.”

Grace bit her lower lip, looking away.

“I’m not so sure they’d even believe us,” she ventured.

“Well not me of course, but they’ll believe you” I replied.

That guilty expression turned sad and she shook her head, “I dunno. Maybe. It’d be better if we could bring back proof.”

Proof? What did she mean, proof? It’s not like we were going to pluck baubles out of imagination land to bring back home with us.

“Maybe we can find some starlight artifacts here and reconstitute them in reverse when we leave,” she mused.

God dammit.

“It’s been done before in other realms,” she wheedled.

I sighed as I grabbed the donkey’s reigns and walked towards the top of a forested hill.

“Sure, Grace. We can look around for a little bit. But I don’t want to get stuck like this, and the donkey’s seen better days.”

Her eyes moved left and right, shepherding her thoughts.

“We just need to find something important. Like a nexus of lunar power or something along those lines,” she said.

As I looked out over the valley on the other side of the hill, I just shook my head in disbelief. A large squat silvery temple was built across the entire base of the valley. Moonlit trees grew up and around it in fractal patterns.

I smiled and pointed, “Just throwing it out there, and I’m open to suggestions - but we could check in there.”

Her face beamed with excitement. And exchanging a single nod, we made our way to the temple in the center of the moon.

The temple was more shelter than building. Open on all sides, the silvery vegetation grew everywhere inside the stone structure. Grace was taken in by it all, brushing her left hand over the wall to examine it. Many times, I’d seen her form a fist with that hand, focusing her Starlight into the brilliant ruby ring she wore on her middle finger. But here, even it was reflecting in black and white.

I followed her loosely with the donkey. My short legs were getting tired.

“I wish I could figure out what went wrong with my body,” I complained.

She responded absently while examining carvings on the stone walls, “You probably channeled the wrong essence. Did you focus honestly on the core of who you are?”

I resisted the urge to sing-song her question back to her. In truth, I hadn’t been focused at all. I was mostly jealous that she had her crap together. Speaking of which, she seemed to reconstitute perfectly.

“What did you focus on?” I asked.

She hesitated, then spoke quickly “Oh, nothing. It’s not important.”

“Well it seemed to work out great for you, so it’s not nothing. What was it?” I demanded.

She turned around, anger in her eyes, “It’s none of your business, Sophie. You clearly have your own problems. Why don’t you focus on them instead of badgering me?”

Ouch. Well there it was. Grace was practically a princess of House Majesty, but she’d stood by me anyway. Treated me like an equal. But I always knew better. When the chips were down, she was one of them. Better than me. Too good to slum it with a heretic and share how she reconstituted perfectly on the first try.

I dropped the donkey’s reigns and threw my hands up, “Fine, I’ll figure it out on my own. Good luck finding your ‘lunar nexon' or whatever.”

The beast began to “hee-haw” neurotically as I left. And look, I play Guardians of Greystone. I know what a nexus is. I was just pissed at her. Some distance would be good to clear my head.

The inner walls of the temple formed a maze of small rooms and alcoves. Now on my own, I distracted myself by exploring the little rooms. And soon enough, my investigations turned up a dark set of stairs leading down into a basement.

For a moment, I considered telling Grace, but she wanted me to take care of things on my own anyway, so that’s what I did. I descended the stairs into darkness.

At the bottom of what felt like a marathon of steps, smooth moonlight shimmered around a corner lighting up the darkness. It swayed back and forth on the stone walls with a rhythm that seemed eerily close to breathing.

That corner led into a massive basement room, albeit one without a floor. A single catwalk lead all the way across the pit, with a circular dais in the middle. The pit, however, wasn’t empty. And I nearly jumped when I saw it.

Massive shimmering scales lined the lunar dragon’s hide. It slept in the pit beneath the little bridge, curled up nose-to-butt. Its razor sharp wings folded around itself forming a blanket. He would have been adorable sleeping there if every inch of him didn’t inspire terror in anyone who laid eyes on him.

Motion caught my eye on the far side of the room, and I could barely make out a woman in a shimmery dress making her way down the catwalk on the other side of the room.

Grace! I wanted to scream at her. What are you doing, there’s a freaking dragon there! But I followed her focus towards the dais in the center - where two glowing honest to god lunar artifacts sat on stone pedestals.

One, a long gnarly dragon’s tooth, the other a silvery dragon eye the size of a Yoga balance ball. And she was going to get there first.

Stealthily traversing a small bridge is exactly the sort of situation the Starlight of Earth is suited for, but I was unprepared. My reagents were all back in the car - or the donkey or whatever. So I’d just have to make it on my own.

My annoyingly small body crept across the bridge, the dragon’s slow breathing causing moonlight to cascade back and forth across the little walkway. I had hoped being a child would make me quieter, but my brain was mapped to normal me, and I felt clumsy as hell.

Grace got there first, no surprise, and I watched as she examined the artifacts. I’m not sure what she saw, but her mouth curled up into a smile as she grabbed the glowing tooth with her left hand. And as though it were responding to her touch, the dragon beneath us snorted - and woke up.

Her eyes went wide as the dragon reared up in a single jerky motion, his back demolishing the piece of bridge I was standing on. I jumped as far as my little legs could take me and rolled clumsily to a stop on the dais.

Not to be outdone, I grabbed the eye from the pedestal as the creature whirled around beneath us. The circular platform shook like an earthquake as the dragon shifted around down there. And then it leapt forward through a massive tunnel I hadn’t noticed, its tail slapping the dais and knocking both of us off our feet.

We both reached out with a single free hand and grabbed on to the lip around the edge of the platform. My body strained as I barely held on, jerking once from the force of the fall.

Grace hung there as well, her left hand barely holding the dragon’s tooth. Her left hand, the one with her ruby ring. The hand she had to form into a fist in order to use her Starlight. Shit.

I still had the eye balanced awkwardly between my right arm and hip. God, my muscles hurt. I hated this little kid body. I wasn’t going to be able to hang on much longer.

But I wasn’t about to lose. This was my time. I got us here, and I wasn’t going to be the one to leave here empty handed. I looked at Grace.

“Let go of the tooth, then pull yourself up with both hands. Then you can pull me up, and we’ll get out of here.”

She shot me a dirty look and tried to pull herself up with a single arm, struggling while hanging on to the heavy tooth. She got maybe an inch, then almost lost her grip entirely.

“Grace!” I shouted.

She looked at me, then down to the tooth in her hand. I could almost see her swallow her pride when she turned desperate eyes towards me. The rumbling subsided, and the room went silent.

“I thought about my dad,” she blurted out. The statement echoing throughout the pit.

I shook my head at her, “What?”

“When we reconstituted. This is a chance for him to notice me. To take me seriously. To respect me. If we prove a new source of power exists here, he’ll have no choice but to look at me.”

I’d had no idea, and just hung there with a dumbstruck look on my face.

Grace shook her head, “I sort of wish I’d ended up like you. At least that would mean there’s more to me than dad. But even this place thinks I’m defined by him.”

She looked ashamed, “I need this, Sophie.”

I… wasn’t used to thinking of Grace as someone who struggled - with anything really. But it made sense. The way she was acting. It wasn’t about me. She had her own problems, and I wanted to be there for her.

That was it!

My jealousy. My insecurities. As real as they were, they were distractions. What I wanted most was to be there for my friend. She needed this more than I did, and I’d been too stupid to see it. Enriching her world would enrich mine.

With that thought, I felt strength returning to my arms. A calm came over me, and I knew immediately what I needed to do.

I caught her eyes with mine and smiled. My voice now my own and resolute, “I’m here for you, Grace.”

I chucked the eye into the void beneath us, and vitality surged back into my body, restoring me completely. I felt my face mature and my limbs lengthen.

Pulling hard with both arms, I practically leapt up on to the ledge. I grabbed Grace’s arm and hauled her up until she could get her legs underneath her.

“Time to go,” I said.

“Agreed.”

We both scrambled to safety, making our way to the tunnel she came in through. There was no sign of the dragon as we reached the donkey still waiting there in the center of the temple’s ground floor.

“Maybe it forgot about us?” Grace suggested.

And then the far side of the valley absolutely erupted as the massive dragon burst out of the ground. Its silvery head had a severe underbite, and its one eye darted back and forth, looking everywhere, unsynchronized with the head as if it had a mind of its own.

And then it stretched like a dog at the top of the valley, albeit the size of barge. Its crazy eye locked on to us, and it pushed off the ground, silvery wings carrying it towards us.

I looked at Grace. I looked at the donkey. And I had an idea.

“I insisted on taking my car because it was mine. Even though your dad’s is in better shape, I thought I needed to prove I could do it without help from your family.”

She looked at me, then back at the rushing dragon, her eyes huge, “Yeah, Sophie, I kind of figured. Are we doing last words or something? Cause I’d still like to get out of here.”

I smiled, “I wasn’t really fessing up to you. More myself, I think. I’m starting to realize just how much the truth matters in this place. Watch.”

Accepting my dumb decision to bring my crummy car for what it was, my calm spread to the donkey. And the braying faded into an equally obnoxious panic button alarm as the beast transformed back into my neglected sedan.

Grace laughed victoriously, “Nice!”, and we strapped into the car.

I had assumed flying around to the front of the temple would slow the dragon down at least a little, but it had other plans. Bee lining towards us, it crashed through two of the support columns holding the back of the temple up.

The engine rumbled on, and for the first time in my life, I literally floored it. The back end of the sedan spun way out, and I nearly lost control as huge chunks of stone temple fell from the sky around us.

Smaller pieces of dust and debris were being sucked backwards past us, and I realized the dragon was taking a very deep breath.

“Crap! Glove compartment!” I yelled.

Grace flicked it open, and handed me a styrofoam cup filled with Starlight-infused soil of the Earth. Unceremoniously, I grabbed a handful of the dirt, quickly spat the phrase, “Perfection of Fitness,” and absorbed all the Starlight I could.

In an instant, my body heated up. Fat burned. Muscle repaired, but most importantly - my reflexes and perceptions got jacked.

In slow motion, I saw the solid mass of lunar fire shoot out from the dragon’s mouth like a laser beam.

His aim was respectable - he was leading me perfectly, the little shit. But my hands were steady, my motions sure - even with bits of dirt now everywhere.

Pulling on the emergency brake, I cranked the steering wheel, and my sedan drifted in a long arc, just barely missing ground zero of the blast. The dragon raised its head, and the tail end of the beam swiped up and across the final temple columns in front of us. The temple’s entrance - our exit - began to fall.

“Keep going, I’ve got this,” I heard Grace say in slow motion.

I’d seen her control objects before, but nothing of that size. It was our best shot though, and I gunned it. She held her left fist out towards the windshield, and the ruby on her ring glowed red, the first bit of color I’d seen in this place warming the monochrome.

The pillars in front of us froze in place - mid fall. But holy crap, it wasn’t just that. I realized in that moment that the entire ceiling was dropping on us, and that too was frozen in the air five feet above the car.

Her eyes were strained in concentration as sweat dripped down her face. Just a few seconds more, Grace.

And then the ruby on her ring exploded. The force of it smacked her hand against the passenger side window, and she yelped as everything came crashing down.

But the little car’s engine was true, if only just, and the structure fell to the ground in our wake. We emerged from the fallen temple in a cloud of dust and smoke. I did not look back.

It was a small miracle the car didn’t get stuck in the grassy hill leaving the valley, but we made it. Back where we entered this realm, I could feel the energy of reality hanging there. We could go home. And none too soon. Who knew how close the dragon was to catching up again.

I turned to Grace, “You still have it?”

She giggled, lifting the large silver tooth from the back seat.

“Now that is an artifact worth remembering. Pretty sure that’s gonna make an impression on him,” I said.

Grace wore a proud hopeful grin, “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

I took one last look at the silver forest, revved the engine, and willed us back to the real world.

* * *

Lord Thomas’ office was tactically tidy. Three certifications decorated the otherwise bare eggshell walls. Curtains were drawn half shut over a huge window that overlooked Crosschester’s business district.

He wore a black suit and sat on a simple wooden chair behind his desk. He was bald and had deep brown eyes that could bore a hole through your soul. I got the impression lying to this man would be a pointless endeavor, and I shuttered to think of what he saw when he looked at me with those eyes.

He motioned for us to approach. We did, but declined to sit on the nice leather seats prepared for guests. He stood as Grace held out the silvery dragon’s tooth.

Her voice was nervous, “Hi dad. We were able to get to the moon successfully. Lunar starlight is real. We brought back this.”

He took the artifact in his hands and regarded it with a skeptical smirk. His eyes found me for a moment, and then he shrugged, placing the tooth down on his desk.

“It’s… at very least a curiosity. Maybe Ethan’s team will look it over.”

Grace took in a quick breath, like she was about to respond, but he just walked away. He hardly even acknowledged her as he made his way to the office’s door, “I have a meeting with King Crowe. You broke your ring. Fix it soon, it’s dangerous like that.”

And with that, he was gone. I wanted to protest, but it was already too late. Shit. Was that really it? It happened so quick.

Grace stood there by her father’s desk, looking brittle and very alone. In all the years I’d known her, I’d never seen her like that, and it broke my heart. She’d been there for me so many times. I couldn’t make this right, but I had to do something.

I walked up beside her, took her hand, and squeezed. She squeezed back as her shoulders shook.

“You did a really good job today,” I said. “What we did was important. I’d have never been able to do it without you. Thank you.”

I felt her sad smile, but didn’t look to see if there were tears. She wouldn’t want me to. Her voice was small, “Thanks, Sophie. It means a lot.”

I felt her place the silvery tooth in my hand.

“You should probably head home,” she said.

What?

“But your dad just said someone was going to look into it. When they do, they’ll see that lunar starlight is real! That’ll change everything! Our entire understanding…”

“Sophia, no,” her bitter voice interrupted. “It’s not happening. They don’t care. Ethan’s backlog is a black hole. Take it. Just take it.”

I… was stunned. How could they not care about something this important? But Grace seemed resolute, and I wasn’t about to argue with her. I took the artifact, gave her a hug, and left her in her father’s office. I could tell my roommate wanted to be alone for a bit. She knew I’d be there when she was ready. I’d be sure of it. I headed home.

When the garage door closed behind me, I reclined my seat and laid there with the tooth resting on my chest - contemplating a world that didn’t want to move forward. The heretic Starcaller of the Earth didn’t have that luxury. I had to move forward. And not just keeping up with Grace. I realized I had to start doing things my way.

Placing the tooth on the dash, I pondered what I had to offer to this crazy world, and the tooth began to glow with the light of the moon. Static crackled in my car’s speakers as wispy tendrils of silvery smoke formed into the lunar dragon’s head on my dashboard, albeit the size of a bull’s. Its raspy voice spoke over the car radio.

“Caller, you seek the truth. This pleases Luna.”

Huh, I smirked, looking at the familiar.

He continued, “There is much I can teach someone who’s willing to see things as they truly are.”

New options. My loadout was expanding. And not despite being an outsider - but because of it. My heart warmed at the thought. Somewhere in this tangled mess of new roads ahead - was me, the person I was meant to be. And for the first time in my life, I was sure of it.

I looked at the little dragon, confidence and mischief dancing in my eyes.

“Alright, then. What can you teach me?

I’m ready to learn.”

#writing #Sophia Woodsman #young adult #supernatural fiction

0 notes

derrickperegrine · 7 years

Note

oops SORRY GOT DISTRACTED ok so 🐉 and 📕 I'm pretty chill and low-key tbh, usually very contained and collected. i'm so laid back and i love nature nature. my hobbies are skiing boxing cooking and learning languages. I love foggy and rainy mornings. Can be quite stubborn but I know my mind and stand my ground completely. I love hot chocolate and cheese. I only wear black, seriously. Ok Ily 💚

it’s ok!! sorry for getting to this so late but ahh!! ily2

best classes:

höðr-craft: an interdisciplinary branch of magic developed by nordic people, before the ‘divide of the subjects’ into transfiguration and charms. focuses on wintertime magic and enchanting snow, ice, water, and cold for combat and survival purposes

permanent transfiguration: advanced transfiguration course that teaches permanent transformations. only highly responsible and students are allowed to take this class for fear of consequences

translation charms: since durmstrang stretches from central europe to the baltics, the school is a-buzz with at least two dozen languages. thus, translation charms are a necessary part of a durmstrang education. covers basic european languages, spotting grammatical patterns, and context clues divination in order to help students learn foreign languages

worst classes:

history of godly politics: focuses on the various historical events that happened before mankind. some are important, but most of them are relatively trivial. a prerequisite for history of magic, as an understanding of how magic came to be

oracle charming: the art of communicating with an immortal seer. difficult creatures who are often obstinate and cryptic in their answers, this is not an easy class for the impatient and rigid

elective courses:

rune-making: an advanced runes class that teaches students to craft their own runes and sigils based on their experiences with runes

show-dueling: half-dueling half-performance, this class teaches students to crush their opponents with skill but also to dazzle the onlookers with elaborate spells

extracurricular activities:

the ullr society: an outdoor games, hunting, and wilderness club for durmstrang students. often hosts competitive games and cook-outs in the whispering forest

dueling club: club where students spar with each other and practice new spells

additional duties:

head girl: this one is self-explanatory

captain of durmstrang debate team: lead the durmstrang team in debating with other wizarding institutes’ teams about contentious, controversial issues in the wizarding world

favourite haunts:

the common hall: a large hall with roaring flames, mahogany and leather furniture, and fur throws where durmstrang students can chill, read, or have a mug of mulled mead with their friends

the whispering forest: the woods on the durmstrang grounds. home to many of the school’s magical creatures and plants, as well as a great place for an adventure (never know what old students left in it) and the official meeting ‘room’ for the ullr society

pet: common european vipershort drabble:

durmstrang. you look at that, and the letters rearrange themselves for you. sturm und drang. storm and stress. as you pass your fingers over the brass signage on the gate, you feel its tumultuous magic pulse against yours. it’s something heavy and heady, giddy like the wild laugh of a wolf, churning like the ropey bodies of snakes.

there’s something that draws people so much to durmstrang. it’s mysterious, old, superstitious, traditional, in a way that is unlike any of the other schools. to the casual outsider, it may seem as if durmstrang were a backwards, old-fashioned place that still taught the theories of aristocratic purists and long-dead gods, but durmstrang knows that time, is only an excuse for the weak to forget. and durmstrang does not forget – the past is not irrelevant because it has past; its effects are still living in the present, and will continue to live into the future.

durmstrang is full of a violent sort of power, as old as time and as manicured as the labyrinthine gardens of counts. it is wild and eager, seeking to outgrow its boxes and plunge its gnarly roots deep into the soft earth; but durmstrang teaches discipline and control; it teaches you to not relinquish yourself to this maddeningly delicious gift and let it control you. rather, it teaches you to be its master.

as you look up at your school, built out of mossy green stone, assurance, boldness, and mindfulness, you are reminded that the world is wrong about durmstrang. durmstrang is not a darkness that cannot be tamed; it is the orderly shadow that walks behind every student. durmstrang is not a loose arrow ripping through the air; it is the charged energy of a bowstring straining against a finger. durmstrang is not a just school; it is a nest, for gods.

song: gunshot by lykke li

reb celebrates 750

#holy-snitch #not a hogwarts student #🐉#owl post #answered #gkdsjflg finally someone asked for durmstrang again

5 notes · View notes

junker-town · 6 years

Text

Rookies hit a ton of home runs in 2017, but it wasn’t the all-time best season for rookie dingers

Which season had a higher percentage of rookie home runs than any other? The answer .............. might surprise you.

There were a lot of reasons for the baseball card boom of the 1980s, but I submit to you that nothing was more responsible than the overwhelming quantity of badass rookie cards available to a kid in 1987. Maaaaybe these are just the ramblings of an old man who’s had one too many nips from the nostalgia flask, but there was nothing like cracking open a pack of wood-paneled 1987 Topps and watching the rookie cards fall out: Will Clark, Ruben Sierra, Cory Snyder, Barry Larkin, Rafael Palmeiro, Bobby Bonilla, Benito Santiago, Kal Daniels, Andres Galarraga, Kevin Seitzer, Kelly Gruber, Wally Joyner, Danny Tartabull, Pete Incaviglia, Jose Canseco, Mark McGwire, Barry Bonds ... my god, it’s beautiful. I want a pack right now.

ANYWAY, the point is that there a lot of fine hitting rookies back in 1986. Some of them flamed out, and some of them got better and better, but it’s not out of place to suggest that there was something of a youth movement that year. Of the 3,813 home runs hit in ‘86, nearly 12 percent were hit by rookies.

Is that a lot? I wanted to find out. Not because of 1986, but because of 2017. This was the year of Aaron Judge and Cody Bellinger, sure, but it was also the year of Rhys Hoskins, Matt Olson, and Paul DeJong. It felt like with every roster I looked at, there was at least one rookie in double-digit homers*, and it got me wondering about the homer-happy rookie seasons from the last 50 years.

Which seasons from the past 50 years have featured a higher percentage of home runs hit by rookies? Here are the top five:

5. 1982 — 3,379 total home runs, 427 by rookies (12.64 percent)

Oh, there are some names here, but this is partly a function of the low-power ‘70s bleeding through into the next decade. There were nearly half as many home runs hit in 1982, and while some of that had to do with there being 26 teams instead of 30, it was still the anthesis of 2017. If you brought someone from ‘82 immediately to Game 5 of the 2017 World Series, well, he or she would suffer the same fate as the panelist from Scanners.

There are names you recognize, of course, like Cal Ripken, Kent Hrbek, Gary Gaetti, Tom Brunansky, and Chili Davis. But there were still only 12 rookies to hit double digits in home runs, and a third of those were Twins (including the other Randy Johnson).

The ‘82 season doesn’t show up because it was a harbinger of homer doom, but because it was a sad skeleton of a dinger golem.

4. 2017 — 6,105 total home runs, 798 by rookies (13.07 percent)

I really thought this would be the winner. It was the inspiration for the Play Index rummaging that consumed hours, and it’s always fun when those searches don’t bear fruit. I thought this would be a sign, a trend.

Extra, Extra (pronounced “Ex-tree”): Kids are swinging harder and getting bigger, and what with the computer modeling and travel ball, this trend is here to stay, boy, howdy!

Of course, we’re talking percentages. When it comes to raw totals, there were more rookie home runs in 2017 than ever, and second place is more than 100 homers away. If you’re looking for the greatest rookie dinger season in history, regardless of context, this is it. Ten different rookies had 20 homers or more, which broke the previous record by four.

3. 1972 — 2,534 total home runs, 341 by rookies (13.46 percent)

A question I get a lot is if I’m ever going to write a baseball book. It’s a tricky question, because when I’m not watching baseball or writing about baseball for my day job, I retreat into a bunker that was developed by NASA scientists to keep baseball from coming in. There is not a single neutrino of baseball that can penetrate this fortress of solitude. I love baseball, but I have my limits.

But if I were to write a baseball book, it would be about baseball in the ‘70s. It’s so gnarly. Attendance is awful. There’s Astroturf all over the place. There’s baseball in strange, new places that haven’t quite taken to it yet. There are riots because of both cheap beers and disco records. And the game is pretty boring, at least by home run standards. There were more home runs hit through the middle of June this year than were hit in the entirety of 1972.

That written, the rookies had a chunk of them. There were just 11 rookies in double digits, but they were led by Dave Kingman, followed by 29-year-old rookie Bobby Darwin, who sure looks like a player who got hosed by the high-strikeout stigma of years past. After that, there were Carlton Fisk, Greg Luzinski, Dusty Baker, Don Baylor, and Ben Ogilvie, all future thumpers.

Mostly, though, it was just a down year for home runs because the ‘70s was an unspeakably dumb baseball decade.

2. 2015 — 4,909 total home runs, 691 by rookies (14.08 percent)

Even with Bellinger and Judge, this is the real recent champion. Kris Bryant and Joc Pederson led the way with 26, which means they didn’t even combine to hit as many homers as Judge in his rookie season, but it was a deep roster of rookies. There were 26 of them who hit double-digit home runs, from the 30-year-old Clint Robinson to Mark Canha to Alex Guerrero to Preston Tucker.

Note that this was before the juiced/slippery/low-seamed baseballs, too. This rookie surge didn’t have a lot to do with a general spike in the home run rate. There were just a lot of hard-swinging rookies compared to normal.

Just four rookies had 20 homers or more, which isn’t a big deal. That was the case in 1977 (Wayne Gross, Ruppert Jones, Mitchell Page, and Eddie Murray), so the good showing in these rankings wasn’t concentrated at the top. It was in the middle. There were 26 rookies with 10 homers or more, which is more than any other season, including 2017.

If you’re looking for a larger trend, here are the top three seasons in baseball history when it comes to rookies with 10 home runs or more: 2015, 2016, 2017. That probably means something more than “there sure are a lot of home runs these days,” but I’m not smart enough to figure out what.

1. 1969 — 3,119 total home runs, 446 by rookies (14.3 percent)

Surprised? I was! There are a couple of things going on here:

There were two new expansion teams, which meant a lot more at-bats for rookies

The mound was lowered after The Great Offense Suffocation of 1968

I’m not sure why that second one would help rookies specifically. Work with me here.

It’s not like there was a bumper crop of rookies that year, either. Bobby Murcer and Nate Colbert had long, productive careers, but it’s not like Bill Melton, Larry Hisle, and Coco Laboy set the world on fire after their strong starts. I’m willing to file this under “just one of those things.”

My original question was if more home runs were hit by rookies in 2017 by percentage than any other year. The answer was no, but it was close. I’m pretty sure I asked the wrong question, but the research was done, so, here, have whatever this article is.

When it comes to rookies hitting 20 homers or more? There’s never been an era like this one. Even though there aren’t kids today who are experiencing the thrill of the rookie dinger boom through the wonder of jaw-exploding gum, maybe they’re just as exciting about all these rookies while playing MLB: The Show, and it’s basically the same feeling.

Maybe.

I still love those 1987 cards, even though I’m still mad at Topps for making it so that it wasn’t Mark McGwire’s real rookie card. If they’re going to do that, where is the Will Clark Olympic card? I have a lot of thoughts about this, and it’s a long offseason, so buckle in, pal.

0 notes

repwinpril9y0a1 · 7 years

Text

The 6 greatest fat-torching outdoor workouts of all time

After a dark and cold winter, the fluorescent-lit gym starts to feel as drab and stuffy as a fluorescent-lit cubicle, and the old routines of arm day and leg day and ab day just aren’t cutting it. Ditch the racks and benches and venture outdoors into the sunshine. Your bleary eyes will find life’s better with the wind in your hair, the sun on your back, and the world zipping past.

We’ve ranked the top outdoor sports—mountain biking, trail running, open-water swimming, obstacle-course racing, road cycling, and rock climbing—based on exercise efficacy, calories burned, cost of gear, availability, and risk factor to see which one offers the most burn for your buck. So go ahead and take your fitness to the next level while communing with nature.

The outdoors awaits. Go work it.

[RELATED1]

6. Mountain biking

For a lot of guys, "mountain biking" conjures up images of adrenaline junkies in full-face helmets rocketing down white-knuckled descents and hucking themselves off cliffs à la Red Bull Rampage. “It’s not necessarily gnarly,” says seven-time world champion endurance mountain biker Rebecca Rusch. “It’s like skiing, where you can choose a green, blue, or black trail depending on your skill level.” For her, mountain biking is all about leaving the road behind and exploring. “It’s easy to say, ‘I want to see what’s over that hill’ or ‘I’ve never been in that valley over there, so I think I’ll check it out.’ I really like the distance you can cover on a bike; you see so much more.”

What it works: “Endurance—heart and lungs—is something people in the gym neglect,” says Rusch. Dirt riding hits more than just legs. “If you’re riding really technical trails, it’s a ton of upper body, core, and midsection.”

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

Pros: Besides for the downhill bits, mountain biking, done right, is low-impact. If there’s an obstruction like a large rock, you can get off your bike, walk around it, and keep going. It’s also mentally engaging “because you’re constantly looking ahead and making choices about picking a line, standing or sitting, and shifting gears.”

Cons: Your ass will probably hurt from rattling over roots and rocks, so stand up in the pedals when riding through obstacles to spare yourself some of the beating.

[RELATED2]

5. Rock climbing

The whole world melts away when you’re high up on a rock face, with nothing between you and the deck but 10mm of rope and your grip on the rock. And that’s what’s beautiful about rock climbing: There are no full-length mirrors, no babes to impress, and—thank God—no Nickelback looping over a sound system. It’s just you, your partner, the route, and, in many cases, killer views. “I love the individual challenge,” says Kris Peters, who’s made a name for himself training world-renowned rock climbers like Daniel Woods and Emily Harrington. “It’s you against the rock up there, and it’s an incredibly self-satisfying feeling when you complete something you’ve worked so hard for.” To get started, find a guide and take a class or two that’ll get you up on real rock on Day 1 and give you a feel for the sport. If it suits you, get more practice at a climbing gym and, in the process, look for a more experienced partner who’ll literally show you the ropes.

What it works: “Climbing is a very upper-body-dominant sport—grip strength, finger strength, pulling strength from your lats,” says Peters, whose Black Mountain Training specializes in climbing- and mountaineering-specific strength. “The three biggest muscle groups that are going to get worked are biceps, lats, and forearms.”

Calorie burn: 837 per hour

Pros: Climb enough, and your upper body will be rock hard, as if it, too, were chiseled from stone. Because of the intense mental focus and physical effort it requires, climbing is almost like a workout combined with meditation. You clear your head and work the route, and when it’s done you’ve accomplished something incredible while getting ripped.

Cons: “On outdoor rock, you’re always going to need a climbing partner and a ton of gear,” says Peters. “And the gear is wicked expensive.” And unlike running or, say, riding a bike, it takes a serious time investment to learn the sport and get started. Plus, access to outdoor rock is quite limited. “That’s why a lot of people go to the gym—all you need is your harness and your shoes, since most gyms already have a belay device, ropes, and everything else you need.” Also, lots of climbers have skinny legs for a reason (the greater your leg mass, the greater the hindrance it has on steeper climbs; you're hauling your own body weight after all). And then there’s the considerable fear factor of dangling from a rope high off the ground. Try to remember that climbing is a technical sport—dependent on strong ropes that are anchored to a system that will support your fall—and not a risky one, so long as you climb within your limits and, most important, follow safety protocols.

[RELATED3]

4. Open-water swimming

We’ve all heard what a great fat-burning exercise swimming is, but most of it happens in the pool, where swimming endlessly back and forth, focused on lane patterns, is even more monotonous than the treadmill. Taking the swim outside lets you actually get somewhere—like across a lake or river or bay—and environmental factors add challenge, not to mention the “no turning back” motivational approach, to the workout.

What it works: Each stroke in the water works your shoulders and upper back, while pulling the water hits your lats and triceps hard. Don’t forget the hamstrings, quads, and glutes, which are largely responsible for your kick. And, because you need to practice breath control while working major muscle groups, it’s a hell of an aerobic exercise that can leave your muscles and lungs screaming.

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

Pros: “Swimming is a full-body workout,” San Diego-based triathlon swim coach Kevin Koskella says, “without the pounding of running or the danger of cycling with traffic.” It’s a long, steady swim since “you don’t get that flip turn every 25 or 50 meters where you can push off the wall and glide.” You also won’t send your heart rate as high as running, which means it’s even better for burning fat.

Cons: Even Koskella felt like a fish out of water when he first started open-water swimming. “There are so many more elements out there,” he says. “You don’t have walls or lane lines to follow. And you usually can’t see what’s below you, either, so the fear of the unknown is a big factor.” Ocean currents and riptides can come into play depending on your local geography, so be sure to educate yourself before heading out. There’s a lot more to get used to—navigating by sight, lengthening your stroke to conserve energy, breathing more efficiently, and calming your nerves—but that comes with practice. “Get into a breathing pattern you’re comfortable with and focus on counting your strokes,” Koskella advises, “which will put your mind in a meditative state as you swim.”

[RELATED4]

3. Obstacle-course racing

Imagine running a brutal cross-country race over rugged terrain. Then you sling a 50-pound sandbag over your shoulders and put in a huge anaerobic effort hauling it up a mountain. Then you’re back to running, only now your legs are heavy and wooden, your muscles tweaking. Next you leap into freezing-cold ice water that makes your legs full-on cramp. Now you’ve got to jump up and scale a wall, but your calves are no longer firing, they’ve shut down. That’s obstacle-course racing (OCR), and—oh, right—there are 20 more obstacles between you and the finish line. “It’s in those moments that you’ve got to dig deep and find strength within yourself,” says David Magida, one of the sport’s first pro athletes and the recent author of The Essentials of Obstacle Race Training. Yes, what once looked like a mud-splattered fad of people taking the scenic route to a drinking party is now a real, grueling sport (with professional athletes), and a growing one at that. “That’s what makes the sport so beautiful—you find out a lot about yourself over the course of a race.”

What it works: Because of the event-based nature of OCR, it’s more a way of testing fitness than of building it. “It’s all about being challenged by a race that tries to break you down from every facet of fitness imaginable—strength, power, endurance, speed, agility, mobility and, just as critical, recovery,” Magida says. “It tests you, it pokes holes in your fitness, and challenges you to correct them so you can be better the next time you line up.”

Calorie burn: 552 per hour

Pros: The “R” in OCR stands for “race,” so straight-up speed is important, but all of those strength obstacles—heavy carries, wall climbs, monkey bars, and the like—tend to level the playing field for guys who do a lot of strength work. And the races are fun! “I think we were designed to run, to jump, to climb, to move, to get dirty,” Magida says. “It makes you feel like a kid again, but it also kind of makes you feel like a man at the same time.”

Cons: OCR sounds like a prison escape, as it’s more than just a test of strength, endurance, and speed; it’s a test of toughness. Crawling through mud beneath barbed wire, hefting yourself over high wooden walls, running through charged electrical wires, jumping into grimy water—you’re bound to get bruised and battered. And then there’s the fitness beatdown: “By the time you cross the finish line, you’re crushed,” Magida says. “You’re sore for days.” And while the equipment may be minimal, race entry fees often start near the triple digits.

[RELATED5]

2. Road cycling

America has 2.68 million miles of paved roads—enough to circle the equator 107 times!—to explore, and, on a bike, the adventure begins right outside your door. And while there’s long been a perception of elitism in roadie culture, that’s disappearing, replaced now by a more welcoming community. “Nowadays, you finish the ride, you high-five your buddies, you grab a beer, and you’re stoked—that’s the new norm,” says recently retired pro cyclist Ted King. Fitness, beer, and stoke? Sounds like a winning combination.

What it works: One look at a professional road racer’s tree-trunk quads and carved-from-granite leg definition is proof enough this is a lower-body workout. King makes the case that “if you’re really pumping your bike in a sprint, there’s plenty of upper body to be done,” but sprints last only a matter of seconds. Still, there’s a huge variety of leg workouts to do on a bike, from strength-building SFRs (slow-frequency repetitions) to sprint intervals, and hill climbs.

Calorie burn: 816 per hour

Pros: You can cover a lot more ground on a road bike, which is the fastest, most efficient mode of human-powered travel. And because it’s more efficient, King says, “you can do a ton of work in a one-hour ride—you can sprint, you could do SFR, you could do endurance, you could do whatever—and that’s going to be much more efficient than a comparable one-hour run” that would leave your body wasted for days.

Cons: “You have to get over the fact that you’ve got to wear spandex,” King quips, “and you’re only going to look cooler when you shave your legs.” So there’s that to deal with, and traffic. Plus, cycling gear isn’t cheap. (Plan to spend at least $1,000 on a solid entry-level steed.) Racing technology is advancing at a Tour de France–worthy pace, though plenty of that tech trickles down to beginner bikes, meaning you can get more bike for your buck than ever before.

[RELATED6]

1. Trail running

When pounding pavement starts to grind on your nerves and joints, it’s time to lose yourself on the local trails. Exploring wilderness on your own two feet is “very raw and very natural, and that’s what inspires me,” says pro trail runner Max King. That, and the fact that it takes your stale cardio routine to the next level, building a more full-body fitness than the treadmill could ever hope to. “Outside, you’ve got undulating trails, you’ve got hills, you’ve got uneven terrain and uneven footing,” says King, “so [trail running] works those stabilizing muscles in a way that you don’t get from the very repetitive motion of running on a road or treadmill. It takes that basic runner and fills him out into a more complete athlete.”

What it works: As with any kind of running, trail running is primarily going to work your lower body—quads, glutes, hamstrings, and calves. But irregular terrain—riddled with roots, rocks, and other obstacles—and softer surfaces require you to use more stabilizer muscles and connective tissue and engage your core muscles for stability.

Calorie burn: 735 per hour

Pros: Dirt running is dirt cheap, since the only gear you need is a pair of trail shoes ($100 to $150). Plus, softer surfaces and uneven terrain mean fewer of the overuse injuries that typically plague runners (hello, runner’s knee), though there are environmental factors—more exposure, falling hazards, animal encounters—that, depending on your outlook, can be seen as very good. And you burn up to 10% more calories than on concrete.

Cons: Finding a trail isn’t nearly as easy as stepping out your front door. They’re almost everywhere, from rugged mountain ranges to local city parks, but seeking them out takes time and effort. Also, King points out, “it’s still just running.” There’s enough lower-body work to beef up your chicken legs, but you’re still not hitting your upper body much. King supplements trail runs with core work, upper-body weight training, and rock climbing. And, well, if you really don’t like running, you probably won’t like it any more in the boonies.

[RELATED7]

Training tips

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2pVhxLf

#DIYS

0 notes

stormdoors78476 · 7 years

Text

The 6 greatest fat-torching outdoor workouts of all time

The outdoors awaits. Go work it.

[RELATED1]

6. Mountain biking

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

Cons: Your ass will probably hurt from rattling over roots and rocks, so stand up in the pedals when riding through obstacles to spare yourself some of the beating.

[RELATED2]

5. Rock climbing

Calorie burn: 837 per hour

[RELATED3]

4. Open-water swimming

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

[RELATED4]

3. Obstacle-course racing

Calorie burn: 552 per hour

[RELATED5]

2. Road cycling

Calorie burn: 816 per hour

[RELATED6]

1. Trail running

Calorie burn: 735 per hour

[RELATED7]

Training tips

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2pVhxLf

#DIYS

0 notes

exfrenchdorsl4p0a1 · 7 years

Text

The 6 greatest fat-torching outdoor workouts of all time

The outdoors awaits. Go work it.

[RELATED1]

6. Mountain biking

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

Cons: Your ass will probably hurt from rattling over roots and rocks, so stand up in the pedals when riding through obstacles to spare yourself some of the beating.

[RELATED2]

5. Rock climbing

Calorie burn: 837 per hour

[RELATED3]

4. Open-water swimming

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

[RELATED4]

3. Obstacle-course racing

Calorie burn: 552 per hour

[RELATED5]

2. Road cycling

Calorie burn: 816 per hour

[RELATED6]

1. Trail running

Calorie burn: 735 per hour

[RELATED7]

Training tips

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2pVhxLf

#DIYS

0 notes

grgedoors02142 · 7 years

Text

The 6 greatest fat-torching outdoor workouts of all time

The outdoors awaits. Go work it.

[RELATED1]

6. Mountain biking

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

Cons: Your ass will probably hurt from rattling over roots and rocks, so stand up in the pedals when riding through obstacles to spare yourself some of the beating.

[RELATED2]

5. Rock climbing

Calorie burn: 837 per hour

[RELATED3]

4. Open-water swimming

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

[RELATED4]

3. Obstacle-course racing

Calorie burn: 552 per hour

[RELATED5]

2. Road cycling

Calorie burn: 816 per hour

[RELATED6]

1. Trail running

Calorie burn: 735 per hour

[RELATED7]

Training tips

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2pVhxLf

#DIYS

0 notes

chpatdoorsl3z0a1 · 7 years

Text

The 6 greatest fat-torching outdoor workouts of all time

The outdoors awaits. Go work it.

[RELATED1]

6. Mountain biking

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

Cons: Your ass will probably hurt from rattling over roots and rocks, so stand up in the pedals when riding through obstacles to spare yourself some of the beating.

[RELATED2]

5. Rock climbing

Calorie burn: 837 per hour

[RELATED3]

4. Open-water swimming

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

[RELATED4]

3. Obstacle-course racing

Calorie burn: 552 per hour

[RELATED5]

2. Road cycling

Calorie burn: 816 per hour

[RELATED6]

1. Trail running

Calorie burn: 735 per hour

[RELATED7]

Training tips

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2pVhxLf

#DIYS

0 notes

porchenclose10019 · 7 years

Text

The 6 greatest fat-torching outdoor workouts of all time

The outdoors awaits. Go work it.

[RELATED1]

6. Mountain biking

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

Cons: Your ass will probably hurt from rattling over roots and rocks, so stand up in the pedals when riding through obstacles to spare yourself some of the beating.

[RELATED2]

5. Rock climbing

Calorie burn: 837 per hour

[RELATED3]

4. Open-water swimming

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

[RELATED4]

3. Obstacle-course racing

Calorie burn: 552 per hour

[RELATED5]

2. Road cycling

Calorie burn: 816 per hour

[RELATED6]

1. Trail running

Calorie burn: 735 per hour

[RELATED7]

Training tips

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2pVhxLf

#DIYS

0 notes

repwincoml4a0a5 · 7 years

Text

The 6 greatest fat-torching outdoor workouts of all time

The outdoors awaits. Go work it.

[RELATED1]

6. Mountain biking

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

Cons: Your ass will probably hurt from rattling over roots and rocks, so stand up in the pedals when riding through obstacles to spare yourself some of the beating.

[RELATED2]

5. Rock climbing

Calorie burn: 837 per hour

[RELATED3]

4. Open-water swimming

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

[RELATED4]

3. Obstacle-course racing

Calorie burn: 552 per hour

[RELATED5]

2. Road cycling

Calorie burn: 816 per hour

[RELATED6]

1. Trail running

Calorie burn: 735 per hour

[RELATED7]

Training tips

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2pVhxLf

#DIYS

0 notes

pat78701 · 7 years

Text

The 6 greatest fat-torching outdoor workouts of all time

The outdoors awaits. Go work it.

[RELATED1]

6. Mountain biking

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

Cons: Your ass will probably hurt from rattling over roots and rocks, so stand up in the pedals when riding through obstacles to spare yourself some of the beating.

[RELATED2]

5. Rock climbing

Calorie burn: 837 per hour

[RELATED3]

4. Open-water swimming

Calorie burn: 694 per hour

[RELATED4]

3. Obstacle-course racing

Calorie burn: 552 per hour

[RELATED5]

2. Road cycling

Calorie burn: 816 per hour

[RELATED6]

1. Trail running

Calorie burn: 735 per hour

[RELATED7]

Training tips

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2pVhxLf

#DIYS

0 notes