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leossmoonn · 3 years

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Waiting for This [Damon Salvatore]

masterlist

pairing - damon salvatore x fem!vampire!reader

type - fluff, smut

note - hey, guys! this was a request. i had a lot of fun writing this, enjoy! i decided to make you a vampire :) elena is a little more bratty in this lol. also you are pretty sober when you two start doing stuff, i felt uncomfortable writing two drunk people have sex, even if they’re adults lol

summary - you and damon are best friends and one night after drinking, you two hook up.

warnings - smut (sex, oral receiving, choking kink, praise kink, you and damon domming each other lol. this is getting hot and heavy luvs), language, frisky language lol, alcohol, you being a funny and sensitive drunk

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*gif isn’t mine*

You strutted into The Grill, black ripped jeans on, a dark red, spaghetti-strapped blouse tucked into the jeans, and your hair blown out and voluminous. Your red painted lips were upturned into a smirk, eyes covered by your black sunglasses.

Heads easily turned at the sight of you. Men and women’s mouths opened, catching flies. You looked around to see if you could spot your group of friends. You looked to see them playing pool.

You had just moved here two weeks ago. You were getting tired of living in Chicago, since you had been living there for the past 10 years. Being a vampire, you usually stayed in a place for a decade or so before people noticed you weren't getting any older. You usually started at a place at 15 years old, using makeup and clothing to make yourself look younger since you were and have been 20 for a little over 2 centuries.

You had decided to go to Mystic Falls, Virginia since there were rumours of other vampires here. You thought you might be able to see you friends, but you sadly didn’t. Instead, you found the infamous Salvatore brothers. The ones that one of your friends, Katherine Pierce, talked about. Katherine, sadly, was gone and was running from the Original hybrid, Klaus. You missed her, but you knew you would see her again soon.

On your first day in Mystic Falls, you had gotten the attention of a petite, cute blonde named Caroline Forbes. You actually ran into her first at the high school she and her friends went to. You were playing the new girl and Caroline had kindly partnered up with you. You had actually planned on using her as a snack, but she quickly threw you against the wall and was about to snap your neck when you apologized for mistaking her as a human. You explained you have been a vampire since 1796, being turned from Katherine as a favor for giving her shelter and a place to hide. You loved being a vampire and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Next you met Elena, who was a new vampire, and Bonnie Bennet who was a witch and descendent of one of your old friends, Emily Bennet. Bonnie and you quickly became friends, too. You showing her the good side of being a vampire and that you weren’t all looking for trouble.

Then, you met Stefan Salvatore. He was cute, like Katherine had mentioned. He also was helplessly in love with Elena, but they sadly had broken up a few weeks before you came. Now, Elena was pining over someone else, which led you to Damon Salvatore.

Sexy, funny, and basically the male version of you, so Bonnie and Caroline say. Damon and you had a fun. playful relationship. You two acted like you hated each other because you were so alike, but also teasing each other to the point where you two are horny and face’s are red like firetrucks.

You had a huge ass crush on Damon. You couldn’t help it. From the first time you saw him, you fell in love. Yet, the last two weeks have just consisted of friendship for you. You wanted him so bad, but you couldn’t work up the nerve to kiss him, which was funny since you always seemed so confident.

Elena was also head over heels for him, too, which pissed you off. Elena and you kept it pretty civil, but the way she looked at Damon made you want to snap her neck and kill her, but to your dismay, she was already dead and Stefan would never let you close enough to stake her. Like right now while they were playing pool, she was making goo-goo eyes at him.

You rolled your eyes and took off your sunglasses, putting them in your back pocket.

“Wow, you desperate for attention or something? Can’t compel guys to screw you?” Elena blurted as you walked towards them.

You raised your brows in amusement, smiling with it. “Wow, someone so jealous that they have to insult another woman?”

Elena pouted and moved back, embarrassed.

“She’s a new vampire, her emotions are still amplified and she’s learning to control it,” Stefan stuck up for her.

“Stefan, don’t stick up for her. She's been a vampire for like, a month, according to you all. She should be able to control her emotions by now,” you said and moved next too Damon, who was looking you up and down.

I personally like Y/n’s outfit,” Damon smirked.

You blushed but looked down to hide your face.

“Damon, you like anything walking with skin showing,” Stefan scoffed.

You frowned at him.

“I happen to like Y/n’s outfit, too. Really cute and sexy,” Caroline smiled.

You smiled back at her. “Thank you. I’ll let you borrow my top sometime. Whenever Tyler comes back, you can wear it.” Caroline jumped up and down in excitement. You chuckled and grabbed a pool cute.

You went next to Damon, purposely brushing your arm on his. Butterflies shot down from your stomach to your core. Your skin tingled at the contact. Your eyes met with Damon’s icy blue ones. You felt heat gather between your thighs, and you looked away before your legs could give out from under you.

“Something wrong, L/n?” Damon asked in a low tone.

“Nope,” you breathed in.

You made eye contact with Caroline, who was smirking at you, noticing the heavy sexual tension between you two. You ignored their stares and racked the balls. You took a shot and smiled triumphantly as an orange solid ball went into one of the holes.

“Good one, L/n!” Damon smiled and shoved you to the side gently.

You scoffed playfully, poking him with a the pool cue. He took a shot and go no balls in.

“Looks like you’re going down, Salvatore,” you laughed.”

“Shut up, L/n.”

You smirked, taking your turn. You got 2 balls in again. You fist-pumped Stefan as you and him enjoyed watching Damon be defeated. Stefan liked it because he currently was fighting with Damon. You liked it because Damon teased you and the annoyed/angry look on his face was so hot.

“God, I’m gonna slam you against the wall if you keep up your streak,” Damon muttered in annoyance.

Your stomach did cartwheels again as you imagined in slamming you against the wall. His hand on your neck, choking you, making your eyes roll in the back of your head. His free hand roaming your body and-

“Y/n? You good there?” Caroline’s voice interrupted your daydreaming.

Your head snapped to her and your face flushed. “I-I’m fine.”

You saw Damon smirk in the corner of your eye. You looked at him and glared. “Shove it, Damon.”

“Oh, I’ll shove it in you, all right,” Damon smiled.

“Woah, that's a new one. Working on your one-liners? Hoping to get laid, Salvatore?” You teased back.

“Not by your ass,” Damon scoffed quickly.

“Hm, I wouldn't do you either. Who knows how many girls you've been with in your 170 plus years,” you said, bumping your hip with his to get him out of the way.

“We are gonna go to the bar, want anything?” Caroline asked, obviously wanting to get away from you and Damon’s inappropriate jokes.

“A round of shots!” You ordered.

“For you and Damon?” Caroline asked, surprised. “Yep. Winner gets to plan out the next mission to kill Klaus. Alcohol makes playing pool a lot harder,” you said, looking back and smiling at Damon.

He smiled back at you. A friendly, sweet smile. He couldn’t help it, even though he was teasing you and being playfully rude to you a few minutes ago.

You were beautiful. Your ability to not give a shit about anyone’s opinions about you, being able to handle a joke, being secure in yourself. Joking around with him, sharing the same humor with him. The fact that you were literally drop dead gorgeous. Your perfect smile, your body that looked flattering in anything you wore - even big t-shirts and sweatpants. The way your eyes lit up when you got all excitedly, like now. You were just so perfect, it was unbelievable.

You saw the way Damon was looking at you. Your smile got even wider and a blush arose on your cheeks. His pupils were dilated and a longing look replaced the mocking expression he had before. You looked away, looking to Caroline who was walking over with a tray of a dozen shots.

“Thanks, Care,” you smiled and took the tray from her. You walked over to Damon and put the tray on a table nearby.

“Alright, ready to lose, Salvatore?” You smirked and turned to Damon, setting your hand on your hip suggestively.

“I think you said win wrong,” Damon smiled at you.

You grinned and gave him a shot. You two downed it easy and set the cups down. You walked back to the pool table, bending down and lining up your pool cue. You took your shot, the white ball hitting a purple solid, but not with enough force. You huffed, stepping back and letting Damon take the stand.

“Looks like the alcohol has already affected your aim,” Damon smirked.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes.

Damon took position and took his shot. He managed to get 3 striped balls in. Your jaw fell in amazement. Damon turned back to you, chuckling at your expression. He looked you in the eyes and did his signature smirk. As he held eye contact with you, your knees buckles. You yelped as you fell, reaching out for the pool table ledge, but it was too far. Instead of falling, though, you were caught by Damon.

You fell against his chest, your head ending up on his shoulder. You gasped as he caught you at the last second, quickly looking up into his eyes. His blue eyes were already staring down at you. He was looking at you with that loving look again. You returned the look, trying to let him know with your eyes that you were in love with him. His arms tightened around you, his hands resting on the small of your back. His touch felt warm and made you feel protected.

He pulled you back up on your feet, which made your foreheads touch. You felt his breath on your lips, begging you to kiss them. Damon’s right hand moved from your back to the bare skin on your arm. He ran his fingertips up and down, making your body hot. Your stomach flipped at his touch and how close you both were. Never once in these two weeks have you ever gotten this close to him.

It felt nice. Your bodies fit with each other perfectly. You knew that you could stay in his arms forever, if ever given the chance.

You looked back up to his eyes, seeing him still staring at you. Your eyes flickered down to his lips and back up to his eyes again, working up the nerve to make a move. But as soon as you felt ready enough, he pulled away, leaving you cold and lonely.

“Let’s get back to the game. I’m interested in planning to kill Klaus,” Damon said and took his pool cue in his hands.

You coughed awkwardly and nodded. You went over to the shots, taking two and downing them. You went back to the pool table, taking your pool cue that fell on the floor. You took your turn, hitting a ball in. Damon took his turn next.

You two drank shots and played pool in silence. The air between you two was heavy and awkward. You didn’t try to look him in the eye, afraid you might burst into tears or kiss him, and him rejecting you. You thought he liked you, but apparently, you were wrong.

An hour and a half later, you were absolutely wasted. You were playing pool, drinking more alcohol than your body could probably hold.

“Okay, I think it’s time for you to go home, Y/n,” Damon said.

“Nu-uh,” you shook your head and stumbled. Damon caught you once again.

You looked into his eyes, admiring the blue. “You have pretty eyes.”

Damon blushed lightly, but rolled his eyes to cover that fact. “Okay, Missy, I’ll drive you home.”

“Fine,” you huffed. You held onto his bicep, stumbling as you walked to the door. Your grip on his bicep had butterflies swarming in his chest. Damon sighed and stopped walking. He put his arm under your legs and your back and scooped you up.

Your heart fluttered and you giggled as a verbal response. Damon smiled softly at your laugh, it making his heart happy. He carried you to your car and had you hand your keys over. He set you on your passenger seat and buckled you in. He went over to the driver’s seat. He drove you back home.

“Let’s go, sweetheart,” Damon said and scooped your up again. You put you around around his neck and cuddled into his chest.

Damon held you close to him and unlocked your front door. He walked you to your bedroom, laying you down on your bed.

“I’ll get you some water and coffee, okay?” Damon said. You nodded. groaning and turning around.

Damon chuckled and went into your kitchen. While he was getting your beverages, you decided to get up and change into pjs. You slowly took off your shoes and shimmied out of your jeans. You sat back down on your bed and took your top off. While you were throwing your shirt in your laundry basket, Damon came in.

“Woah!” Damon exclaimed and quickly turned around. “Damon?” You asked and stood up. You walked into him, still in your underwear.

“Are you dressed?” Damon asked while breathing in deeply. His jeans got tighter as he thought about you sitting in your lingerie.

“No,” you stated. “Well, get dressed then,” Damon scoffed.

You frowned, “You don’t like my body?”

Damon’s eyes widened, but he stayed turned around. “No! I... this is weird, Y/n. We are friends.”

Tears clouded in your eyes. “I.. I thought you would like my body. I workout and my ex boyfriends say I look hot. Why don’t you think I look hot?”

Damon sighed and turned around slowly. He eyed your body quickly before going back up to your eyes.

“Y/n, you’re gorgeous. With and without clothes. You are hot, trust me. Let’s just get you sobered up, okay?” Damon said.

Your tears disappeared and you smiled. You nodded and turned around. Damon checked your backside out, taking a deep, hard breath. He walked over to your nightstand and put the water bottles and cup of coffee on it.

You quickly got into shorts and a big t-shirt. You sat down on the bed, taking one of the water bottles and downing the water because of the dehydration you felt from the alcohol. Damon sat down next to you.

“How come you’re not drunk?” You asked.

“Because I didn’t drink as much as you,” Damon said.

“Oh,” you pouted and took a sip of coffee. “Ew, it’s so bitter.”

“Well, you need strong, black coffee to wake you up a little,” Damon smiled.

You grumbled in agreement and drank more coffee. You two sat in a comfortable silence until you felt a little more awake and a lot less drunk.

“Vampires sober up fast,” you laughed.

“Mhm and you happen to be one,” Damon smiled and booped your nose.

You smacked his hand away playfully. He took your hand and did something that you never thought he would. He intertwined his fingers with yours. Your face flushed and you looked into his eyes for an answer.

“Damon?” You asked.

He put his other hand on your cheek, moving his head closer to your lips. You started to breathe heavily and your dead heart felt alive again.

Your brain couldn’t process what was happening. “Damon? Do you know what you’re doing?”

Damon smiled at you. “I know.”

His lips got closer to you and you head got fuzzy. “Damon, are you sure?” You wanted nothing more than to kiss him and have the greatest, hottest sex with him, but you after tonight’s events, you weren’t sure if he was doing this because he liked you, or it was in the moment.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now, be quiet so I can kiss you,” Damon said softly.

You felt giddy inside as Damon finally pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss started out slow, hesitant, but passionate. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. Your eyes fluttered and closed in pure bliss. Damon scooted more on the bed and you followed.

You laid down on your pillow, Damon crawling up on top of you. You two never broke the kiss while you moved. Damon did once he got settled, though. He looked in your eyes, smiling.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” you breathed out. “Me, too,” Damon said and kissed you cheek and went down to your neck.

He sucked on the sweet spot below your ear, making you moan and buck your hips at his. You felt his bulge and smirked.

You took ahold of his shoulders, flipping you two with your vampire speed. You straddled his waist, putting your core right over his bulge. Damon groaned as you grinded against him, diving your head down to his neck. You licked around his ear, making him shiver underneath you.

“Y/n,” Damon moaned and gripped your hips. You smirked against his skin, kissing and sucking down his neck. You set your hips back on his thighs, putting your hands on the hem of his shirt, but he was already one step ahead of you.

He took his shirt off, throwing it haphazardly on the floor. You grinned and ran your hands down his chest, going down again to kiss his chest and go down to the top of his jeans.

Damon let out a growl as you licked his hip bone. Damon took ahold of you neck and flipped you around against. You let out a surprised moan, loving the feeling of his hand around your throat. He bent down to your ear and whispered, “I’m in charge here, okay?”

You looked into his eyes, feeling wetness pool between in your legs. You nodded fast, “Yes, sir.”

Damon smirked and kept his grip on your neck and made eye contact with you as his other hand went down to your breasts. His fingertips grazed your hard nipples, leaving you whining and squirming. Damon smirked, putting his hand over one of your breasts, needing it. He rolled your nipple in between his thumb and middle finger. You choked on your breath, the ache in your pussy becoming worse and worse with every move he made.

“Hm, Damon,” you sighed, your voicing coming out choked because of his hand that had a hold on your neck. He switched breasts, his hand that was on your neck let go, trailing down past your breasts and to your dripping pussy.

Damon glided his fingers over your slit, going in slightly, groaning at the feeling. “So wet, baby. I’ve barley done anything.”

You let out a yearning whine, your back arching off the bed. Damon chuckled and slid his middle finger in, your eyes closing in bliss.

“Look at me, princess,” Damon said in a low tone. Your opened your eyes, seeing Damon’s mouth just above your clit, his hand entering your pussy painfully slow.

You watched with wide, lustful eyes as he entered two fingers into your pussy, attaching his lips to your clit. You let out a loud cry, your back arching off the bed. Damon fingered you, curling his fingers inside of you, finding your spot. As he did his first lick over your clit, your hands flew to his hair, pulling hard.

“Damon!” You shouted in pleasure, bucking your hips up to his face. He smirked, putting his lips over your clit, sucking on it. You whimpered at this, shutting your eyes in ecstasy.

Damon's free hand went up to your stomach, pushing you down on the bed. You whined, looking at him. You got more wet as you saw his bright blue eyes staring at you. He had this predatory look in them that sent you throwing your head back again. Your thighs moved in on his head, holding him in place as he worked wonders on your pussy.

“Tastes good,” you heard him mutter. The vibrations of his words made the knot in your stomach build more. As Damon’s fingers moved into you and his tongue swirling around your clit, spelling out the alphabet, you felt yourself coming close.

“Damon I-I-I,” you cried out, getting stuck on your words. Damon chuckled quietly, enjoying seeing you writhe under him. Heaven knows he’s dreamt about this from the day you two met.

“Damon!” You moaned, feeling your orgasm wash over you. Damon ran his tongue over your clit one last time, making sure to suck on the sensitive bud with pressure.

As you rode out your high, your back collapsed on the bed, your chest heaving up and down. You looked at Damon, a thin cover of sweat lining your forehead. Damon took his fingers out of your pussy, sucking off the remaining juices. He made deep eye contact with you. You felt your body become aroused again, your pussy becoming wet again.

He took his fingers out of his mouth, looking all over your face. He went over your body, setting his hand on your cheek. He smiled as he admired you’re beauty. “You’re gorgeous, you know.”

You blushed and smiled big at him. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

Damon chuckled, “Thank you. Round two?”

You smirked and took ahold of his shoulders, flipping you two over. You settled your naked body over his lower stomach. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Damon smiled and went to take off his pants. You helped him, your eyes becoming wide with lust again as he took off his underwear, revealing his member. You licked your lips, knowing you had been dreaming about this time since forever.

“Ready, princess?” Damon asked.

You looked up at him, nodding. Damon put his hands on your hips, guiding your entrance to his cock. You slowly slid down, savouring the feeling of his cock stretching your walls out. You both let out deep, relieved moans.

Damon kept his hands on your hips, gripping them as you started moving up and down. The slow-paced movement quickly ended as you were soon bouncing on his dick, your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. You both were panting loudly, moans coming out of you every second.

“Hm, Damon,” you groaned, biting your lip. Damon looked up at you, admiring the way your face was scrunched up in satisfaction.

You two felt your orgasms build up. You both rode out your highs, you collapsed on him, pulling yourself off his dick. Damon put is arm around you, his lips pressing a sweet, loving kiss to your forehead.

“Wow,” you breathed out once you calmed down.

“Yeah, I know. I've been waiting for this since forever,” Damon said.

You chuckled, “Yeah, me too.”

Damon sighed contently. You buried your head in his chest.

“Is this it for us?” You asked.

“You wanna be more?” Damon asked.

You looked up at him with a small smile. “Yeah. I would like to.”

Damon smiled back at you, planting a kiss on your lips. “Me, too.”

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this is my last damon imagine guys. hope you enjoyed reading!

#damon salvatore #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore smut #damon salvatore x reader smut

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loveume · 3 years

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# 1 to 10 🔗

one.

you're a nobody here. a mere plus one to your friend who was forced into coming to this fundraiser by her business world old money parents. your nicest black dress on and one of her many red bottoms, they pinch a little but you pretend like they don't. just like you pretend not to notice the sage green eyes that follow you as the attractive man they belong to sips on what you assume is bourbon, his gold rolex (that easily costs more than the house your family lives in) gleaming on his wrist.

two.

you look over your friend's shoulder from where the two of you lay, sprawled out on a gingham blanket in her massive yard. she's mindlessly scrolling through instagram and just as you're about to turn you catch a glimpse of those eyes. "wait!" she flinches at your exclamation. "go back up." you say offering no explanation. her lithe fingers drag down her screen and those eyes stare back at you once again. it's a candid of the guy from the event, his tongue stuck out. one hand flips the camera off while the other is resting against his lower abdomen which in turns raises his shirt just enough to catch a glimpse of the metal at his bellybutton. his handle reads suna.rin. your friend looks up at you with a confused look but it soon turns to one of disapproval. "don't even think about it." your eyes catch hers and you reply defensively, "i wasn't thinking of anything. i just recognize him from that fundraiser, he kept staring at me." she clucks her tongue. "suna rintaro is bad news with a capital BAD. seriously, don't think about getting near the freak, he's really no good."

three.

really no good makes his way into your dms a few weeks later. you admit it. you were combing through this man's insta like it was your job. but your butter fingers decided to double tap on a month old photo, causing you to lock your phone with a quickness and toss it away from you in humiliation. while you have your face buried in your hands contemplating which bridge would be best to jump from your phone vibrates once, and then once more. –found u angel– –or looks like u found me–

four.

you kick your legs, air force ones swinging in the air as you wait for him. the two of you had decided to meet "officially" in person after taking for a month and a half, suna rintaro was a busy man it would seem. you glance up at the clock above your head, he was late. tapping away at your phone gives you something to do while you wait. a black air force nudging your white one grabs your attention and you look up only to meet sage green. "hi pretty, you match shoes with me on purpose?" his teasing smirk is practically clench worthy. "you're late." is what you reply, standing and slinging your purse over your shoulder. "no, im rintaro. suna rintaro." he holds his hand out to you. you slip yours into his replying with your own name. "i hope we can be good friends," he murmurs with that smirk again.

five.

you don't know if parading around the city with him count as dates, but if they do you've been on a lot of them. he'd called you earlier wondering if you wanted to window shop, his old man was giving him a hard time. that's all you seem to know about his dad, that he's strict on rintaro. he says his mom and younger sister are much easier to get along with. "this one?" he points to a silver chain, thick and chunky. you tilt your head before shaking it, "wouldn't suit you." you point out a thin gold one. "layering a few of these would be better." he contemplates in silence before humming in agreement. "you're so hot." rintaro says before leaning in to you and taking your lips with his.

six.

you'd had to curry favor with rin to make him agree to having a picnic, he got to pick the spot though. he'd said the park you wanted to go to was "too stifling" whatever that meant. the place he'd brought you to was rather secluded but incredibly beautiful. "c'mon pretty, we don't have all day. feed me some of those finger sandwiches you made or whatever it is that gets served at a picnic." he was sprawled out on the blanket, his shirt riding up to show that awful sexy piercing of his, you wanted to kiss him. you tuck the skirt of your dress under you as you sit and unpack the basket. "ah, rin the drinks! please don't tell me u forgot them." "as if, got em right here angel," he holds up a bottle of rosé. "did you seriously bring a 20,000 yen bottle of rosé?" "man if the rosé bothers you, you're gonna hate the necklace i bought you." your eye practically twitches, "rin, what necklace?" he pulls out a cute red velvet box from his pocket and opens it. inside sits a dainty gold chain with a small gold cherry hanging from it. "how much did yo– actually don't tell me i feel like i'll pass out." he merely chuckles before moving to put the jewelry on you. "get used to this pretty, i'm gonna spoil you stupid."

seven.

you're lounging on the ridiculously fancy black couch in rin's equally as fancy and equally as black-accented apartment. he'd run off earlier to in his words to "take care of business", but he'd been out for about four hours at this point. you glance at the clock mounted to his wall, which reads 2:17 am. you drag yourself to get ready to bed, he'd probably be home soon. a loud crash and an equally loud exclamation of "fuck!" startles you awake. you quickly tie your robe around you as you carefully pad into the hallway, peeking around the corner to see what the commotion was about. rintaro stood in the kitchen, his back to you. you're about to call to him when he yells another obscenity which pulls a squeak from you. he whips around to face you, and you can see his anger through the blood traili– blood? you brain finally registers the blood on his face and soaking his shirt. "rin?!" you rush towards him hands cupping his face, "who did this? why do you have blood–" he cuts you off by grabbing your shoulders with a bit more force than necessary, "it's not mine." "what do you mean it's not yours? rintaro what's goin–" he cuts you off again. "go back to sleep." he brushes past you to lock himself in the bathroom.

eight.

everything has seemingly gone back to normal. you and rin never did talk about that night he came home covered in blood. your questions eat at you but you don't want to push the issue. you think back to your friend's words briefly. how rintaro was really bad news. too late to heed her advice it would seem. he kisses you like normal, buys you things like normal, and teases you like normal. you wonder if this game of charades is more for his benefit than your own.

nine.

you sit at his waist, eyeliner pen in hand. "promise i'll make you look real pretty rin." you'd persuaded him with your sweet words and a few sweet kisses and he happily agreed to let you practice your eyeliner on him. he thinks you're so pretty above him, biting your lip in concentration, he wants you badly. "all done!" "great work, pretty." a few beats of silence pass between you as you stare at one another, finally rin speaks up. "listen, i'll understand if you never wanna see me again after i tell you this." he starts. he explains that night to you finally. his family isn't in the cleanest of businesses, and sometimes that means taking care of things in "less than conventional" ways. unsure what to say you press your lips against his, hoping to convey your dedication to him. he slips a ring on your finger when you pull apart, pointing out his initials engraved into the metal. "here's mine." he tells you, reaching into his shirt to hold up a matching ring that dangles from a chain, this one with your initials. "you and me, baby."

ten.

his hand on your neck is cold but the barrel of the gun he presses to your jaw is even colder. you blink up at him, those gorgeous green eyes staring back at you. he leans in, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. click. "nobody loves you, more than me baby."

#haikyuu !!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #suna rintaro drabbles #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna #suna rintaro #tw gun mention #tw implied violence #a product of me binge listening to 1 to 10 by day6 #love.notes 💌

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adelheidvonschicksal · 4 years

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Heat | Bakugo x Dragon!Reader

Synopsis: Due to black magic, you’re slowly turning into a mindless dragon. Bakugo has to help care for you until a cure is available and that includes dealing with your new sexual appetite. [request]

Content warning: NOT SFW, Fantasy!AU, Interspecies, rough sex

“I hate sleeping outside!”

You complained and threw another branch of dry wood onto the fire pit that centered your little camp for the night. Katsuki scoffed at your grievances as you paced in circles around the campfire.

“Well, we could have stayed in town if someone didn’t decide to steal from the fucking merchants’ guild.”

You stopped your pacing and your eyes narrowed at him. “I couldn’t help it! You know that,” you grumbled.

It wasn’t entirely your fault that you found yourself attracted to things like shiny rocks, gold, and jewels lately. When you saw such things, you couldn’t help but collect it. You told yourself it was to sell for money, but that was nowhere near the case as you kept them for yourself. You were starting to accumulate (read: hoard) quite a little treasure pile in your satchel actually. The trinket you stole wasn’t an exception.

“Besides you think he got that talisman through legal means--give me a freaking break.”

“It doesn’t matter! You don’t take it.”

You huffed and sat down in a clear spot that you finally thought good enough to settle and turned on your side. “It’s not like I want to be this way.”

With those words, Katsuki finally stopped grumbling and went to completely ignoring you. As the air filled with silence, you sighed at your unusual predicament and curled your tail around yourself.

Katsuki and you were all you’ve known ever since you were children. Orphaned by the civil war, the two of you had to rely on one another. Being forced to flee your village after another battle made that true now more than ever. When Katsuki’s new goal became to take over the country himself by following his own rule of “whoever survives makes the rules”, you knew there would be hardships, but you also knew he’d get himself killed or worse without your help.

That almost turned true when you had your first scuffle with the King’s royal enchanter. Katsuki almost ended up on the end of a spell that would chain his mind to the body of a beast had you not pushed him out the way. The asshole didn’t even say “thank you” but yelled at you for getting in the way. Thus, your adventure to take over the country sidetracked into a side quest to turn you back into a human before you completely transformed into one of the giant reptiles known as a dragon. The quicker the better, too.

Your head kept hurting with every small sound that you could never hear as a human now that your ears turned to elf-like points and your skin itched with layers of blue scales lining the front of your forearms and going up the side and back of your neck. You didn’t really mind the tiny wings fluttering at your back as much as the beginning of a slowly thickening whip-like tail and the pure white horns sticking out at your temples and curling to the back of your head like a mountain goat, the weight of which hurt your neck no matter how much you tried to whittle them down against tree trunks. Though, the worst is the strain on your and Bakugo’s relationship as he gets angrier with each passing day and added appendage you grow. He doesn’t know how much pain you’re in every time your scales spread or your teeth sharpen. You made sure to keep it a secret to keep him from worrying.

You turned back to him, already asleep with his same resting bitch face and arms crossed. Well, you hoped he was at least a little worried under all the aggression and annoyance.

You weren’t really sure what you wanted to do with your life yet since all you had focused on before was survival, but you couldn’t imagine not spending it without him once everything settled down, no matter how much you fight. He was kind when his mood was calm, and he would often show care for you and protect you. Plus, you’re sure he wouldn’t make such a bad father. You had taken care of the younger orphans before, so you were already like a mom and dad back then.

You paused, wondering where that thought came from. You squirmed, feeling warm as you thought deeper on the subject without real direction since you’re not entirely sure why you suddenly thought about that now. You only ever gave little thought to having children, but you couldn’t break the chain of knowledge that he’d probably give you handsome children, strong ones too, and it’s not like you haven’t thought about taking a spin on his cock a few times. You sat on your hands and knees, crawling as quietly as you could over to him.

Perfectly pleased you were when you gazed at him. Muscles ripping and free to gaze at thanks to his open fur cloak, fine blond spikes scattered and framing a smooth jawline and pouted pink lips. You took the dive and listened to everything that told you to touch him.

Katsuki jolted from his sleep with a groan and a hoarse curse leaving his parched throat. His moan escalated with the intense pressure on his hardened cock, and the situation made him snap his eyes open when the weight felt too real to be a dream. The sight of spiked teeth and unnaturally goldened eyes peering down on him almost earned you a punch to the throat if he hadn’t stopped his instincts from taking over. You had almost fooled him into thinking a dragon got him, the saving grace being your remaining human features calling out to him and his dick as you jerk your hips and your hooked ivory claws dig and pierce into his shoulder to draw blood.

Katsuki shoved his hand to your forehead and roughly attempted to push you away. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Get off me, (Name)!’

“Katsuki,” you huffed, frayed layers of smoke following your words, as your face sweats and creases with another weak moan. You dropped your hands and frantically go for one of his many twisting and crossing belts and cords. “I-I need to feel your cum inside me.”

His face lit red, and you felt yourself flung off in an instant, but that didn’t deter you before you hopped back into a kneeling position and attempted to climb back on top of him like an animal who tried despite their owner demanding them to stop. “I’m not about to fuck you!” Katsuki growled and shook you off again before forcing you onto your stomach and pushing his knee on your back. You whimpered with the bone digging between your shoulder blades, and Katsuki didn’t want to be rough but you kept squirming and trying to buck him back off with snarls of disapproval. “Calm down, damn it.”

Katsuki unhooked the cord around his waist and quickly used it to tie your hands together behind your back before getting off of you. You whined, violently kicking in debris as tears began to stream down your face. You heaved, wailed out, and flipped side to side like a fish out of water. Finally, you got too exhausted to keep up your violent thrashing but not before popping a few scales, breaking the tip off one of your horns, and coating yourself in red dirt and small bleeding scratches from tiny branches and rocks under you.

Katsuki gripped at his hair, panting as he watched the end of your sudden distress. He had no idea what just happened, but it was clear you needed to speed up your trip to the healer. He tied off your items to his waist and heaved you up to journey through the night.

Another four days had passed with you having your little spouts of desperate pleading for him to come over and ravage you senseless and breed with you and tantrums of aggression and violence towards him when he’d reject. He couldn’t say he wouldn’t mind being able to have sex with you; but in that state, it wasn’t anytime likely that he was going to stick his dick in you so you could revenge murder him in his sleep once you’re healed and coherent.

Katsuki finally reached the edge of your old village where he had known the healer to live when you were younger. The old healer had long passed away, but his apprentice still lived there. Any healer was better than none no matter how many times the finicky half-elf made Katsuki roll his eyes.

“Amajiki!”

There was a yelp immediately followed by the crashing of a potion vial to the floor as Katsuki kicked the door open and hauled your sleeping body onto the nearest chair. Finally, the healer turned around, tired eyes falling on Katsuki. He sighed, scratching his head through blue hair.

“Oh, it’s only you two again,” he monotonously drawled, and Katsuki glared. Then, dark eyes widened upon noticing you in the corner, and he moved to you with a speed Katsuki had never seen the halfling move. “What did you do?”

“We got into a fight with that damned Shigaraki, and it was for, never mind! It doesn’t matter,” Katsuki exhaled deeply. “I fucked up all right. Just…please fix her.”

“You don’t need to beg,” Amajiki mumbled, beginning to undo your restraints before moving you to rest on top of his work station. “How long has she been like this?”

“Almost two weeks, she was fine mentally for the first week, but lately she’s been going crazy, and I can’t get her to fucking snap out of it.”

“She’s closer to dragon than human, right now. You’re lucky she has high magic tolerance, or she would’ve turned by now,” Amajiki explained, looking over the progression of your metamorphosis.

Katsuki grimaced. He always knew he had a lack of magical ability or tolerance, not like you who used magic like it was child's play.

“Can’t you do anything for her?”

He nodded and turned to Katsuki. “I’ll give her something to slow down her change until I can make something to remove the curse, but it’s going to take a few week-ah—”

Amajiki gasped as you suddenly lifted up and pulled him down against you. Your lips immediately went to his neck, nipping and biting with a satisfied growl. Bakugo was quick to let his protectiveness and jealousy take over. “What do you think you’re doing? Don’t touch her, bastard!”

“It’s not me!” Tamaki whined and tried to push you away as you passionately pressed your lips to blushing cheeks. “Please, please, g-get her off of me!”

Katsuki moved to yank you off. It was unnecessary since you instantly changed your target once you noticed Katsuki was there. You threw the healer onto the floor without a second thought and bolted yourself to Katsuki’s arm. “Katsuki,” you half cooed and half growled into his ear.

“Son of a—why the hell is she like this,” he scowled as you wrapped your arms around him and tried to hold him against your own body.

Tamaki smoothed out his clothes and wobbly stood back on to his feet. “Mating season started, and she’s in heat right now. I can give her something to calm her down a little, but you…well…someone needs to take “care” of it soon.”

Katsuki scoffed, tossing that idea. “Just tell her to do it herself,” he demanded as he held you at arm’s length.

“She’s not really in a state of mind right now. Dragons need to be induced or they stay in heat like ferrets. If her heat is extended too long, it can kill her before I finish the recipe.”

Dropping his arm, Katsuki’s lips trembled into a scowl, then he asked you, “Do you really need me to fuck you that badly?” You seemed to pick up on the idea, clung him tighter, and seductively crooned at him with a lightly rumbling purr. “Then, just don’t be pissed at me afterward!”

You blinked at him and nod flippantly.

“I’ll get started in here, you can use the room in the back,” Amajiki offered, inwardly drowning in the despair at the thought of having to burn the sheets afterward.

Katsuki dragged you to the room in question the entire way repeating, “Just for healing…just for healing…” Fuck. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding. He didn’t know if it was because he really wanted to have sex with you or because he suspected you would avoid him after. Probably both.

When you got in the room, you pushed him down on the bed without any restraint. Your lips instantly melded to his in a sloppily passionate kiss that made him groan from deep in his throat at you mounted on top of him. Sharp teeth pulled at the delicate curves of his lips, drawing blood that you happily slid your tongue over to taste before moving to his neck with as much fervor and need highlighting every kiss over his bobbing Adam’s apple. He tilted his head up, letting you have free reign to mark and litter his skin with deep purpling bruises as he wrapped his arms around the small of your back.

Despite the scales lining around your back, your stomach and underbelly remained fairly soft and fleshy, leaving your breasts softly hugging to his own firm chest, but it was the eager grinding on his lap that had him moaning.

“Damn, you’re already this excited,” he choked out as you pressed down on his budding boner. Katsuki was beginning to wonder how much of this was you because you didn’t nearly go after Amajiki this compulsively. You seemed extra obsessed on attaching to him. “You really want me to breed you, huh?” You moaned in agreement, a smile drawing against him. Suddenly, he grasped onto your horns and pulled your head back towards your back as he sat up. “You ready to take my cock, aren’t ya? You’ve been begging for it all damn week, but you wanted it before then, haven’t you?”

Katsuki yanked your head back and kissed your collar with rough lips and down the center of your upper chest, stopping only where your clothes didn’t allow him to feel the warmth of your skin. He released your horns and grasped your neck with both hands, dragging his palms down.

“Katsuki, hah, hah,” you whined as your scales prickled and pulled with the strokes of his fingers over the tiny edges. “inside, it’s hot,” you barely strung together the words, but he could pick up on what you meant as you whimpered for his cum to douse the heat built inside you.

“My cock is loaded with cum for you. It’s more than enough to fill your womb.”

Katsuki pulled at his belts, never breaking eye contact with you as you hungrily waited for him to get undressed while snatching off your own robes. Smallclothes were already out for you because of your tail, so you were completely bare and ready as your impatiently watched him finally tug down his pants and his thick cock sprung free, ready and dripping with the first beginning of fresh precum dripping down his rounded head.

“If you want it, you’ll get on your hands and knees," he said to reduce the chance of you clawing him and nudged you to flip you over. He shoved your tail up and out of the way and cup your engorged pussy. He could feel the intense heat radiating from you. He slid his fingers inside your, curling them along your slick saturated inner walls. His fingers nearly slipped out at first go with how wet you were, and a waterfall of wetness oozed out and down his hand as he stretched his fingers inside of you. Katsuki added a third and fourth then begins to move his palm inside you, stopping at the junction of his thumb and pointer fingers, and you take it all with a pleased growl as he twisted his palm in your needy core.

Katsuki moves his hand, replacing it with his cock. He slid his tip against your opening, and you jerked back towards him, desperate to have it inside of you and spraying your insides with his seed.

He chuckled at your whine. “I’ll give it to you, just wait,” he teased and stroked his head in and out of your entrance, teasing the nerves around it with the plump tip of his member.

“Katsuki, ngh, put it in,” you grumbled, smoke coming from your mouth, and he swallowed hard before giving in to your demands before you really got pissed.

He thrusted into you once then pulled all the way out and thrusted again. Katsuki held in his moan as your velvet walls slid around him and enveloped him. Your body was on fire, more so than anything he’s felt. He gripped your waist, thrusting into you with increased speed, his lap bouncing against your rounded ass.

Your nail dugs into the mattress, ripping through the fabric and revealing fluffy down and strands of cloth as your body jerked with his pumps and the room filled with wet slaps and your own growls and low blowing of tiny flickering flames and smoke from your mouth with each pant. It wasn’t until Katsuki gripped your horns, pulled your head and pumped into your innermost wall with an aggressive rut of his hips that you roared in complete pleasure and pain as the pain echoed through your head with the straining of your neck and scalp.

Your tail kept swooping, hitting on the side of his hip, and he hissed with the sting of scales slapping his skin and leaving red welts along his muscular thighs. Katsuki returned your hits with a sharp upward thrust that made you whine and your pussy clench.

It was with a loud mewl that you came around his cock, your fluids escaping in droves down your legs and staining the sheets with the ever-rushed drive of throbbing meat taking your body. It was when he released inside, and his semen coated you inside and out that coolness finally rushed through you, and you dropped your head to the pillow as he stilled deep inside of you before pulling out with a slime trail of cum seeping from your cunt.

You collapsed onto your side with a drawn out, “mm” before cuddling into ripped sheets and piles of cotton. Katsuki shook his head and petted your own. “Feeling better?”

Opening your eyes, you turned to face Katsuki and tackled him to the bed again.

“Fuck, wait damn it, it’s not ready!” he griped as you straddled him and clawed at his chest. You wrapped your hand around his cock and your mouth around his nipple.

With the growl you released, he knew you didn’t particularly care and that he wasn’t leaving any time soon.

—————————extended ending————————

Katsuki hissed as Tamaki slathered his back wounds with healing salve. You had dug all the way into his shoulders and dragged your hands down to the small of his back this time around. They left zigzagging patterns down his back and flared bright red like a beacon on his back, and now it kept hurting every time he stood straight.

“Why hasn’t she changed back yet?” Katsuki demanded to know because at this rate you were going to bleed him dead if not make his dick fall off from soreness and chafing. It had been another two weeks, and Tamaki had given you the potion over two days ago.

“The potion only strips the curse. It doesn’t reverse what’s already happened. She’s going to look like that from now on, but you won’t have to worry about her turning into a dragon completely. Other than having some behaviours like what you’ve seen, she’ll be fine,” Amajiki explained as he finished patching Katsuki’s wounds.

Katsuki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned to face the healer. “When is this heat going to end then so I can tell her?”

Amajiki paused, quirking his head. “I already told her, she said it’s fine.”

Katsuki scowled.

“What are you talking about? Have you not seen these fucking claw marks! She’s still loopy as hell.”

Amajiki shook his head. “Mating season ended a few days ago, and she seemed coherent when I talked to her the other day.”

Katsuki blinked owlishly at him before scrunching his face with annoyance. You heard the echoes of his scream from your comfortable, relaxed position in bed, and your eyes widened with the knowledge you were caught. “(Name), you fucking faker!”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #adelssmut #fantasy au #bakugo x reader

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nightmaretyrantvantas · 4 years

Text

The Journey for Mew part 1: The horrifying beginning

Well here we go! The start of a fic series for my recently posted sander sides pokemon au, which was inspired by @sugarglider9603‘s pokemon au

This is gonna start angsty, turn to a slightly thrilling adventurous hurt and comfort, and will have a happy ending I promise!

A trigger warning for the begining: Theres cursing, fighting(pokemon battling counts in this category right?) and slight mentions of blood, and injuries.

This is also going to be my first full series with a planned ending so I hope its good!

Also to establish this now each of the boys specialize in different pokemon types

Thomas: Normal/water(plus his team is all eeveelutions) Roman: Fire Patton: Fairy/some psychic Logan: Psychic/steel Virgil: ghost/dark Deceit: Bug/ ground Remus: Dark/poison

Now lets get started shall we? ( this one is long to buckle in)

It all started that one fated, horrible winter night. Of course the night itself hadnt started horrible.

It had been a quiet night on the Sander Sanctuary grounds when Virgil slipped out of the shared farm house and started walking towards the east side of the property, and towards the darkened office building a little ways from the house. He took in a deep breath of the crisp night air, smiling as he watched his breath’s smoke dissipate while he walked. Virgil didnt have any job duties or training sessions the next day so he decided he’d stay up that night to spend time with the sanctuary’s dark and ghost pokemon. As he walked through the grass, eyes adjusting to the dim moonlight and scattered lanterns that dotted the property and its pathways, he couldnt help but smile more. Sitting on his shoulders chittering happily was his trusted partner Banette, the doll pokemon’s zipper grin wide and cheerful. Sally had always been a brave cheerful pokemon, a contrast to her trainer’s shyer, anxious nature.

“ You excited to play with all your friends Sally?”Sally, affectionately named after a character in one of his favorite movies, nodded her head and waved her arms in her excitement. Virgil chuckled and tried to dodge getting smacked.

“ Ghas?” “ Gastly!!” He paused as three young Gastly floated around him happily, cheering at his presence. As they did Sally hopped to the ground and was immediately swarmed by a group of shuppets, giggling as she was nuzzled and blepped. Virgil’s smile widened and he patted one of the Gastly as he was also nudged and avoided their playful licks.

“ hehe h-hey guys im happy to see you all to-aaaaaaah!” He flailed his arms as he fell back when A large Gengar popped up in front of his with its arms up, being caught mid fall by strong rough hands. He leaned his head back and let out an exasperated sigh at the sight of a familiar grinning Trevenant, it’s laugh echoing out of its mouth soon joined by the Gengar’s giggling. He stood back up and regained his balance, hands on his hips at the two pranksters.

“ Ha ha ha. Very funny you two, you got me.” Then he ruffled Gengar’s fur and patted Trevenant’s head.

Gengar was one of the older ghost pokemon, one of the eldest to live at the Sanctuary if Virgil remembered correctly. He’d been a Haunter when Thomas had been bequeathed the property from his grandfather and he and thomas had moved onto it and started cleaning it up and he’d been there with them through everything, playing harmless pranks and helping out. Virgil had befriended and grown close to the pokemon, even as it stayed happily wild in the east woods of the property with its best friend Trevenant, who he had helped nurse back to health from a Phantump. The two followed at his side as he kept walking, more ghost and dark pokemon gathering and happily playing around him perfectly at ease with the ghost trainer’s presence. Some even welcomed it as younger pokemon poked and tugged at his pants and jacket to get him to chase them and play tag. He indulged the kids, making them squeal and him laugh. A few feet away from the back of the office building he could see a light shining in a back room, signifying Logan was still awake and working despite it nearing midnight. He could also see pokemon peering into the window curiously, watching the older trainer work. He sighed and started crossing the distance to the building, deciding he’d try to urge Logan to go to bed. Unlike himself Logan had other work in the morning, and he didnt need to be an insomniac too. As he walked his Espeon caught up and trotted beside him contently with a yawn. He reached down and ruffled his fur. “You could’ve stayed in bed you weirdo.” His Espeon gave him an incredulous look and Virgil shrugged. Things were peaceful, and happy.

If only that could’ve last...

He felt the shift in the air, everything suddenly feeling tenser or charged. At first he thought it was simply his paranoia rearing its head, and he looked up towards the looming shadow of Geolite mountain up towards the top of the valley, and the way the moon seemed to touch the summit, almost cradled by it. There was a branch snap and his head whipped towards the fence, and the darkness beyond it. With narrowed eyes Virgil started approaching, hearing something like whispering.

“ Houndoom use shadow ball!” His eyes widened and he scrambled back as a shadow ball hit the fence and destroyed a good chunk of it with a loud boom. He had to cover his ears and he heard the pokemon start scattering or hiding behind him. When his ears stopped ringing he looked towards the smoked mangled fence in horror, stomach twisting into knots. THen he looked beyond it and he felt cold.

Shadowed sillouettes with almost glowing red R’s blazened on their chests were approaching with pokemon, streetlights flickering.

Team Rocket.

Virgil had always feared this might happen, that word of their pokemon haven would reach people like Giovanni and they’d be attacked for rare pokemon. With kids unknowingly spreading rumors and legends of legendaries visiting and living at the sanctuary, it was a terrifying possibility. But Virgil didnt have time to think about it, or to think of anything really.

“ Houndoom flamethrower!”

Because the next thing he knew there was a large unrelenting spray of flames rushing straight for him and the pokemon behind him uncaring. Virgil didnt think, instead his body move and he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to block as many pokemon as he could, as if his body and his body alone would completely shield them from any harm. In a single moment in the distance he thought he heard a wailing cry fainting pierce the night.

There were legends in the Floria region that they lived in that if you heard Giratina’s cry while you were out at night, it was a signal that you or someone else was about to die. It was a legend Logan loved debating and it was one Virgil had always taken with a grain of salt before.

It was Giratina’s enraged cry that pierced the air that night.

As the cry faded Virgil realized he wasnt burning to a crisp but it was still bright he opened his eyes and looked up.

And he was horrified.

Before him, blocking the name fading flames was a small pink pokemon floating in the air as a protective bubble of pink finished shattering around it. Mew’s body was covered in burns and tears started burning in his eyes as it then wobbled and fluttered towards the ground, virgil just barely managing the catch the injuried pokemon. He cradled the legendary in his arms in a panic, watching the poor thing’s shallow breathing as it keened softly, eyes barely open.

“ No no no no nonononononononoo.....” At once Mew’s tail touched his forehead and imaged flashed through his mind.

The mountain

The heart of the mountain

A natural spring of gentle glowing water in a cavern of light bouncing crystals

Placing Mew in the spring

Healing. A place to heal Mew.

“ Aha the rumors are true! There are legendaries here! Mr. Giovanni is going to be thrilled! Grab the Mew and any other pokemon you can and get rid of the stupid trainer if he gets in the way!” He glared at the grunts as they started approaching closer, holding Mew closer as it shut its eyes tiredly. In front of him his Espeon and Sally stood defensively, both growling. But they were out numbered by a long shot. Lights were turning on in the house but it would be too late if he didnt do something. But if he got too close they’d take Mew and he’d never get it back to the mountain. But if he ran the pokemon would be raided and captured and hurt.

“ Sally Shadow ball! Anxie used Psybeam!! Keep them away!” Both pokemon attacked and suddenly there was a barage of shadow balls and other attacks that knocked a bunch of the intruders back. Ghost and dark pokemon, including his own, charged forward in a rage, engaging the intruder’s pokemon in battle and trying to push them back and away from Virgil. He saw his two trusted buddies and the gengar that trusted him surrounded, and felt his vision go red when he saw grunts eyeing them and appraoching with nets and collars. They were going to take his friends. They were NOT taking his friends and they were not hurting the pokemon. He stood shakily and heard yelling. He could see Deceit rushing towards him from the house and Logan rushing out of the office confused and horrified. But Team Rocket was coming back onto the property, eyes locked on the pokemon in his arms. He had to do something quick before they all got hurt. Both of the others saw his mouth move with words unheard before he wrapped mew in his thick jacket and he rushed forward, tossing the jacket bundle to Deceit and charged forward recklessly. He let out his own angry cry as he sprinted, and the grunt the was about to lunge for his precious Sally looked up.

Just in time to see the black gloved fist that slammed into his face seconds later. He fell back and wasnt able to see the boot covered foot swing up and kick him away from the chest. He caught the humans around him by surprise and his body was illuminated by the nearby streetlight as he lunged and yanked one of their houndooms back as it readied another flamethrower towards his friends and winced as it grazed his arm. But adrenaline was flowing and he barely noticed as he shoved it back and fought back against the other grunts that started ganging up on him.

Virgil fought back with everything he had, and he was winning too. The light flickered again. There was another yell.

Then he felt the taser rod before he saw it.

In that moment the world seemed to slow, his scream of pain as his vision flashed white seemed to cut the air in half. His vision started going dark and he felt weightless even as he crumpled to the ground, and the last things he heard was Giratina’s louder, enraged cry, and the wail of multiple pokemon, almost as if they were crying

Or it was a war cry.

“ VIRGIL!!!!!!!” Logan almost screamed when he saw his friend drop to the floor like a ragdoll into a heap under the spotlight. He started running forward as more booms and ground tremors almost knocked him over. The once dark night was now morbidly lighting up with fire coming from the west side past the house, and he could hear more yelling of his housemates over the sound of angry and panicking pokemon. He didnt want to believe he heard the impossible sound of Giratina’s cry but there was no time to think about that.

His eyes were on virgil as he screamed his name and tried to run through battles. But before he could even get close his body was grabbed by psychic forces and yanked back. He yelped and struggled against his Alazakam’s power.

“ Alakazam! What are you doing?! Let me go! I have to help Virgil!” The pokemon shook its head and held him close. It was then he felt the ground begin shaking under his feet. In the sparking, flickering streetlight the grunt that had taken Virgil down stumbled back in fear. Beneath Virgil’s unmoving form a shadow was growing and swirling around him, growing more and more and anger radiating from it. For a brief moment Logan thought he saw bright teal eyes flash in that inky darkness as a low growl sounded.

In that moment Logan had the realization that perhaps the silly urban legends and rumors the kids in town whispered, myths that anyone who messes with or hurts the sanctuary and those who work in it invoke the wrath of the legendary pokemon, had more stock in them then he ever gave them credit for.

And then hell broke loose with one last, almost ear ringingly close enraged wail filled the air and the ground shook with some kind of impact.

A shadow ball whizzed past his ear and he was yanked back as his metagross got in front of his protectively and casted a protect around them.

Within that moment four major things happened at once.

The woods bursted with furious and battle ready ghost and dark pokemon as they charged towards the grunts that attacked Virgil, Sally leading the charge with an war cry and tears in her pinkish red eyes.

On the west side of the house there was screaming and yelling as Roman and Patton both fought and tried to protect the pokemon and put out the fires as well as fighting off another wave of intruders, Roman’s ranger styler lit up and active as he tried to keep grunts away from the more vulnerable grass pokemon being attacked.

Near the woods he caught a brief glimpse of Deceit cradling the jacket bundle in his arms, barely catching his face before he suddenly disappeared into thin air and a furious Dusknior was in his place before charging into battle itself.

And there was screaming and angry yelling from near the front and he caught glances of thomas and his team of eeveelutions defending the nursery part of the house and keeping grunts back, and glimpses of a bloodied Remus full out charging and attacking grunts, knocking them down with his fists and feet with a wild look on his face. Everything was chaotic and Logan struggled more, pleading with his protective pokemon to let him go, let him out and go help his loved ones. But then he took a chance to calm down, take a shaky breath, and stood up straight.

“ Lets go.”

Things blurred for Logan after that. He could remember being freed. Could remember running along side the battling pokemon with Lucario at his side.

He remembered the yelling and wailing and pokemon cries and running through battles.

He remembered stumbling through the thick darkness towards Virgil’s form and cradling the lanky boy in his arms.

He vaguely remembered Team Rocket being forced back more and more and soon after retreating and being run off by Remus and a barage of pissed off pokemon.

He remembered crying and yells of his name as he tried to wake him up.

He also remembered long wails of despair and the gagging reek of smoke and the darkness around him and Virgil slipping away and rising, a dark clawed hand reaching towards his face placatingly.

‘ He will live, but now, you both must sleep....’

And then there was darkness as Logan slumped forward into Darkrai’s embrace, everything fading away as his eyes fell shut......

The same kind of darkness Deceit was surrounded by as he crashed into the ground and found himself far from his endangered home with mew tucked in his arms looking up the looming mountain he stood at the base of....

And thats the end of part 1! I warned you guys it would be angsty! dont worry itll get better....eventually...

Regardless I hope you guys like part 1 and look forward to part 2!!!

taglist

@phantommoonpeople

@sweetsweetemo

@leesacrakon

@amazable01

@starbucks-remy

@jemthebookworm

@max-is-tired

@seriously-a-dragon

@sugarglider9603

#my writing #sander sides #sander sides au #sander sides writing #sander sides fanfiction #pokemon au #sander sides pokemon au #sander sides angst #thomas sanders #character thomas #roman sanders #virgil sanders #virgil angst #patton sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders

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scattershotmind · 4 years

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Samyah (OC)

Gonna put it below the cut because this is probably going to be long! ALSO @eisehaus , you've been tagged!

The basics:

Birthday: May 30th, 2001 (Tropical Zodiac: Gemini, Chinese Zodiac: Snake)

Age: 19 Years

Gender: Female

Height: 5′5″

Eye Color: Gold

Hair Color: Jet Black

Skin Tone: (The photo above is a little too pale) Her skin tone is best describe as a light-medium, usually slightly tanned (from long hours spent in the sun working), beige with slight olive undertones

Pets: Two cats; one female orange tabby with amber eyes named Venus and one male black cat with green eyes named Titan. She also has a solid white female Blizzard Corn Snake (pictured above, she goes with Sam almost everywhere) that she named Astaroth.

Clothing style: Her favorite color is black, first of all. She has a weird sense of style, in all honesty. She doesn’t mind showing skin, as long as none of her cleavage is showing and as long as her butt is fully covered. She’ll wear shorts and crop tops as long as they meet the aforementioned requirements. She does prefer jeans, tank tops/t-shirts, typically steel-toed black combat boots, and her very prized black leather jacket. She loves leather in general though, so anything leather is bound to become part of her wardrobe, such as vests, jewelry, etc. She loves rings and necklaces, and tends to always have some type of choker on. Her favorite choker happens to be a gunmetal colored, medium-size linked chain that fits around her neck perfectly.

Piercings and tattoos: She’s only pierced on her ears, but those piercings climb up the outer side of her ears. Two piercings on the lobe, then 5 piercings spread out along her ear, going up into the cartilage at the top. As for tattoos, she has a black and white cat yin yang tattoo on the inside of her left arm, about 2 inches down from her wrist. On her back, she has a set tribal wings, the base of the wings sitting between her shoulder blades on either side of her spine with the actual wings stretching up to stop just below the top of her shoulders and coming to a stop at the middle of her back, the tips curling in towards each other. In between the two bases of the wings sits a simple trinity knot. On her right bicep, she has a Chinese stye dragon wrapped like a cuff, going all the way around her arm 3 times with the head at the top, pointing up towards her shoulder and the tail at the bottom, pointing down towards her elbow.

Body description: Coming in at 5′5″, she’s not really tall, nor is she specifically short by human standards. She’s on the slimmer side with some muscle definition in her biceps, thighs, calves, and, while not extremely sharp, you can see the six pack on her stomach. Her feminine assets are decent and fairly average, she doesn’t have many complaints there.

Likes: Rock/Metal music, drums, guitar, anime, video games, baking, belly dancing, tarot cards, working out, singing, chocolate, hugs, cats, snakes, pretty much all animals, cars, working on cars, medical stuff.

Dislikes: Most cleaning chores (Does them anyways though), yelling, fighting, being touched out of nowhere (like sneaking up on her and touching her, she will try and punch you), her parents, alcohol, drugs, typically kids but will put up with them, parties, large crowds of people.

Hobbies: Absolutely loves to work on cars and their engines, can and will tear engines down and rebuild them, playing guitar/drums, rescuing animals, loves learning about and has taken classes on medical stuff so she knows her basics of caring for wounds, and resuscitation.

Personality: Samyah is a fairly feisty person. She talks shit back to people and can be very sassy if she’s in the mood for it. Her mouth is that of a sailor’s, and it has and will get her into trouble if she’s not careful. She doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind or stand up for others if she feels it’s needed. She’s fairly easy going and loves to have fun. She also is fairly soft for those she cares about. She can tend to become somewhat motherly, checking in on her loved ones, bringing them food, just basically trying to take care of them in small ways. She’ll gladly give them advice if they ask for it. If one of them falls sick, she can and will take care of them until they feel better, borderline hovering. Let’s not even get into how much of a doting and fawning person she becomes when caring for animals. Despite all of this, there are times where she becomes very shy and soft spoken. Conversely, when angered, she can and will lash out at the people around her. She tends to need time to vent out her frustrations, usually through music, playing drums/guitar, or working out. Occasionally, she’ll sing her feelings out, but would be extremely embarrassed if someone heard her.

Other info?: She’s lactose intolerant.

The backstory:

Sam was thrown into, as she calls it, ‘the system’ at the fairly young age of 13, right after the death of her (scumbag) father and subsequent disappearance of her (deadbeat) mother. Basically, she was abandoned, so she was put into the adoption system. Her life passed her by like dark storm clouds that just kept failing to release rain. She wasn’t adopted because people always preferred smaller, younger babies. So, around the time she turned 15, she became a bit of a problem child. She skipped school, and when she was at school she got into fights with kids who bullied her. She did keep away from smoking, but dabbled in alcoholic drinks occasionally. However, it was around this time that most of her passions began to surface. She made few friends, but those few introduced her to the things that helped her start to straighten up. She learned how to play the drums and electric guitar, and turned to those instruments instead of taking her anger out in a fight. She ended up learning how to read tarot cards, and even learned the only style of dance she knows to this day; belly dancing. She found a passion for weight lifting and working out in general, and began to aspire to build her strength to protect herself and her small friend group. Heck, her friends even got her into anime, video games, and cosplaying. They became as thick as thieves during their high school years.

Living in the system was no joke though. Between girls meaner than she was, and guardians who were only in it for the money, her life wasn’t exactly great. She often got bullied into doing chores for the other girls, and this is where the other side of her personality made itself known. While she wanted to be and acted like this badass, headstrong, fearless girl at school, she lacked most of her bravado at ‘home’. The quieter, perhaps even shy, side of her surfaced. She put up with the bullying and just did as she was told. She learned how to cook and bake from this, and did end up developing a love for baking.

When she turned 16, she received news of her mother’s overdose. She was officially an orphan, with both of her parents now dead. She often felt like there might have been something wrong with her, because she wasn’t even upset about it. Her abusive childhood under their roof, paired with the rougher life of living in an adoption home plus her frequent fighting and bullying made her more numb emotionally. Or, that’s how she preferred to be around others. When alone, she often felt sad and empty, though as the months passed she became happier again through a lot of work. She’d never have to worry about her crazy mother coming to find her, so that was a plus.

Eventually, she turned 18 and was allowed to move into her own place. She immediately got a job and worked towards going to college. Between 16 and 18, she got her shit together and straightened up, putting herself to the task of passing high school and graduating. She took both automotive classes and medical classes in high school, and she adored them both and couldn’t pick which one to major in when she went to college. She planned on waiting to enter college when she had a fairly decent amount saved up from her job, but things happened. She turned 19, and as the fall began to approach, she suddenly found herself waking up surrounded by demons in a different realm. Oh boy, she wasn’t ready for it.

BONUS:

Samyah's demon form, I finally decided on it lol

#ValSam OC #Samyah

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adventures-at-scotts-nursery · 4 years

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Ch. 3 The Siren’s Call

<<First Chapter

<<Previous Chapter

The Siren's Call was one of three bars in town, and in Scott's mind, it was the best by far. It was a cozy place that leaned into its nautical theme with pictures of mermaids and marine life covering the walls and had an assortment of shells and messages in bottles in various locations. Had the bar been on a beach front, it likely would have been a tourist trap; instead, it was situated just off of Fifth and Maple, a short twenty minute walk from Scott’s Nursery and two hours from the nearest shore. It drew a regular crowd and in the few months since Scott had started frequenting the place, he had figured out the natural lulls in the day when he could drink in peace.

"Well look what the cat dragged in!"

Well, mostly in peace.

Trevor was grinning like the idiot he was as Scott took his place at the bar. Dani, the bar’s owner, smiled as she greeted Scott and poured him the usual. True to form, the bar was mostly empty. Aside from Trevor, there were two other people down the bar and a table of two in the corner. The standard crowd for an early Monday evening.

"We were starting to think you didn't like us anymore. You had us worried, man," Trevor said. Despite his outward appearance as a tough guy, with multiple piercings, tattoos, and clothes covered in grease stains, Trevor was a decent guy who was quick to smile and even quicker to lend a helping hand.

"How could I not like you anymore? It’s been a week."

“No text, no call, no warning; you just stop showing up for drinks. What was I supposed to think?”

"Mr. Dramatic over here has been lamenting about how you must have found a new friend to replace us with and how he'll have to find a new drinking buddy," Dani said with a chuckle, clearly entertained by Trevor’s antics. She was a shorter woman with pixie like features; a small round nose and almost unnaturally big blue silver eyes. She wore her wedding band on a silver necklace, though that never stopped her from flirting for better tips

"Seriously?" Scott asked with eyebrows raised as he gave Trevor a look. "Just cause I skipped out on a few drinks? Might I remind you of the time you flooded the apartment in college? How about the time you shaved off my eyebrows or filled my shoes with live slugs? I’ve stayed friends with you through all that; so why would I replace you now?"

"Well now I feel dumb--"

“You are dumb.”

Trevor pouted and looked to Dani for support, who just stared back at him with a grin as if to dare him to ask her what she really thought. With a huff and a shake of his head, Trevor turned back to Scott. "My point is that you’re the responsible sort, you always let me know when you can’t make it out. So what am I supposed to think when you just stop showing up unexpectedly? How could I not get worried about you?"

A twinge of guilt stabbed at Scott; he had been so enchanted by Isaac and getting to know the younger man that he had completely forgotten about anyone else and had even blown off his friend. It would have taken two seconds to let Trevor know what was going on.

"You know you could have texted him," Dani interjected, "instead of crying about your best friend has forsaken you and how you can't bear to go on alone."

“Hey! I did not cry about it!” Trevor protested, which caused Dani to laugh and made Scott feel a little better. “I was proper manly and cool about the whole thing. Like James Dean if he were worried about a close pal.”

Scott chuckled to himself as Trevor got more and more animated as Dani goaded him on. At times like these, it was hard to believe that Trevor was two years older than him. “I got the picture, I’ll do better to let you know if I won’t be able to show up,” he said, then couldn’t help but to add, "you're like a puppy, you know that?”

"Better than being a bear," Trevor retorted.

"Stop pretending you know what that means."

“Soooo,” Trevor said, turning his chair to face Scott, leaning against the bar and propping his hand against his face. “If you don’t hate me and you haven’t replaced me with a new drinking buddy in some other bar, just what have you been doing this past week? You better have a good explanation kiddo."

Scott chuckled at the serious look Trevor was failing to give him; much like an older brother trying to interrogate a sibling instead of simply asking what had been going on. With a shake of his head, Scott took a sip of beer and prepared to tell him all about the wonderful week dinners he had had with Isaac. Though perhaps he would be vague on the details of what happened after the dinners.

“Well--”

“Hang on,” Dani interrupted, holding up a finger to stop him. She stepped back to grab the top shelf rum and pour half a glass; then she set the glass down halfway between herself and Trevor. Then she grinned and leaned against the bar with a mischievous grin. “Alright, sorry about that. Please continue.”

Scott shot a glance at Trevor, as if to ask what the deal was, though he had a wild look in his eye and a stupid grin on his face. It was a look that promised entertainment and that whatever was going on came from a ridiculous and/or stupid idea. Added to the fact that it involved alcohol? Yeah, Trevor was up some sort of idiocy that it was better not to get involved with; though from the way Trevor and Dani both were looking at him, there didn’t seem to be a way to not be involved.

“Ah-- right then. As I was saying, I met a guy last week,” Scott said as a smile crept onto his face. It was impossible to think of Isaac and not be happy. “He’s charming and handsome and we really hit it off. So we’ve been going out and getting dinner and getting to know each other.”

“Nooooo,” Trevor wailed as Dani grinned smugly and held out a hand, demanding he pay up. So they had been betting on what Scott’s answer would be. That made sense. Scott took a slow sip as Trevor tried to weasel his way out of the bet.

“Wait, double or nothing!”

Dani’s eyes narrowed, like a cat staring down at a mouse, as she leaned closer to the bar. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You already owe me $30, do you really want to risk going $60 into the hole over one little bet?”

Stupidly, Trevor insisted he did. They agreed to wager on Isaac’s age with Dani betting he was in his late twenties, and Trevor betting he was in his early thirties. They shook hands and Dani topped off the glass before they turned back to Scott for the verdict.

Scott felt bad for his friend as he pointed at Dani, "she's right."

Trevor howled and slumped onto the bar as Dani wolfishly grinned and immediately held her hand out to be paid. With a frustrated huff Trevor handed over sixty bucks and accepted the rum.

"So, you guys were betting on why I wasn't showing up, I take it?"

Dani nodded and went back to washing up the glasses. "Earlier in the week I mentioned that you were probably on a date and Trevor laughed, saying that wasn't possible. He seemed to think you were stuck on coming up with business strategies to make rent. Well, either that or you ran out into the woods to live off the land."

"I never should have made that stupid bet," Trevor grumbled. He sighed wistfully as he sipped his rum, then grinned and drank some more. Apparently it was hard to stay mad whilst drinking the best rum in the house, even if he did end up paying double what it normally cost.

"I did warn you not to bet against me," Dani said, with a laugh. "I own and run the bar, I hear all the gossip."

Scott raised an eyebrow. He knew that Dani kept a pulse on everything going on in town; she had even known about his shop the first time he had gone to get a drink. It shouldn’t have been a shock that she knew about his relationship; yet it was. “What sort of gossip?”

"Oh, nothing much," Dani said with a twinkle in her eye and a wave of her hand. "I just overheard an excitable fellow talking about a gardener with a big heart and gentle hands. It’s not what I would call hot gossip, only a few people know, just me and his friends.” She paused for effect then added, “how is Isaac by the way?"

Trevor nearly choked on his drink; which would have been a shame considering how much he had just paid for it. "Wait, you know who he's dating? That's not even fair! You cheated in our bet and I want a refund."

Dani stared him down with a hand on her hip and a satisfied grin; which was impressive considering she was a good foot and a half shorter than Trevor. "I warned you not to make bets against me, and yet you insisted. You just assumed you were right and nothing would change your mind. Remember, I told you three times to forget about it and three times you challenged me. If I remember correctly, you 'weren't going to miss a chance to try my best drink for free'."

Trevor grumbled to himself and pouted. Scott might have felt bad for him if he wasn’t so distracted. Besides, Trevor had gotten himself into this mess by not thinking; so it was what he deserved really.

"What did Isaac say about me?” he asked. It was weird and strangely exhilarating to hear what Isaac himself was saying about him. Plus it was a good chance to hear what the younger man really thought about him.

“He talked about how kind and gentle you are and also added that you are 'really hot'. He went on to talk about you at length, it seems you made quite an impression on him." Dani said. “It was a busy day, so I had to keep an eye on a lot of customers, but every time I checked back on Isaac and his friend, they were still talking about you.” Then she winked at Scott and added, “and it sounds like you're a beast in the sheets."

Scott’s cheeks burned as Trevor seemed delighted by this revelation and congratulated Scott by clapping him on the back and calling him a dog. While it was good to hear Isaac enjoyed their nights together, it was another thing to hear those words come out of Dani’s mouth. Unsure of how to respond, Scott decided to finish off his beer and just not deal with it.

Dani laughed at Scott’s response. “So it looks like the two of you are getting rather close. How long before we can start drinking in your honor?”

“I’m not planning on marrying him just yet. Don’t rush me into anything,” Scott protested. He sighed as the image of Isaac in a wedding suit flitted across his mind. He shook his head to clear it. “Though I probably should ask him to be my boyfriend soon. I probably will if we keep going out.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Dani said. She poured him a new glass and slid it across the bar. "So Trevor, word about town is you hired a young woman for your shop."

Trevor lit up and started talking about the new mechanic he hired; describing that she knew her stuff and how life was so much easier having someone else so knowledgeable around. Of course, he made mention of how beautiful she was, but insisted that he hired her based on her skill and nothing else. And the conversation flowed long after the bar started filling up and Dani had to move on to serving the other customers. At the end of the night, Scott made sure to promise not to skip out on drinks without warning any more.

Next Chapter>>

#chapter #scott gardner #Dani Vodika #Trevor Cummings #And at long loooooong last I finally update!!!#sorry for taking so long to get around to this #I was studying for a professional exam and had no time to write #except the exam was cancelled and now I have to take it next year #thanks Covid #The next 2 chapters are written and will be posted shortly

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creativelycryptid · 4 years

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The Thing in the Woods

There have always been things in the woods. This is a fact of life up here, in the mountains. From the first moment human eyes looked out into the first dark woods, other eyes have looked back. Some eyes were friends, some were food or sought us for food, but others were something else entirely. Things, with a capital T. The woods have gotten smaller, over time. Height wise and width. Things have died off slowly. Not entirely, of course. Many adapted, became smaller, better at mimicking coyotes or owls or other things considered natural by people, or just better at hiding in general. Still, there are quite a bit fewer nowadays than there used to be. Every culture has or had their own ways of dealing with them or not dealing with them, as the Thing and situation called for. I’ve lived in the Appalachian mountains for most of my years. Not true deep woods, but deep enough to have my fair of stories about Things. Deep enough to learn a few things too, like how even though coyotes live in packs they don’t hunt in them. If you’re in the woods, being chased by something that looks and sounds like coyotes, they may not be coyotes. Climb a tree and say your prayers. There’s a wide variety of Things: Things that have names (Bigfoot, Mothman), Things that used to have names, and Things that have never had names. This story is about one particular Thing named Bibi.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the real estate agent brought me out here the first time, he was highly skeptical. An old woman living alone out in the woods? He was concerned for my health and safety, he said. But I’d lived out here in my younger years, and I remembered how it was. There wasn’t a force on earth short of a heart attack that could’ve kept me from buying this place. A sturdy little house, with a porch just big enough for the table and pair of rockers that sat to one side of the door. I walked through the house with the real estate agent trailing behind me, half-heartedly selling me on the place. I mostly tuned him out. I’d already made up my mind. The only things of interest in all of what he said to me that day were the price (on the high end of affordable), the distance to my nearest neighbor (too far for his comfort but too close for mine), and that it came with the furniture. We went back to his office to get the paperwork in order, and within a few weeks I was settled in.

My first night was lovely. I had a little upstairs bedroom all set up with quilts and books and a little reading lamp. The mattress was mine, of course, no telling how old the one that came with the house was, or what kinds of people the last tenants had been, but I did use their bed frame. I smiled when I lay down, already running through lists of things to unpack in the morning. An art studio across the hall, dishes for the cupboards, boxes of books and blankets for the living room, and seeds for the garden. It was too early to do much planting yet, but I could plan. Oh Lord could I plan. There would be no guest room, naturally. I slept soundly that night, with the comforting sounds of night birds and wind.

The next afternoon I was taking a break from my unpacking and was enjoying some lunch of sandwiches and hot tea on my porch. The last of winter was thawing out, though I figured we still had one good frost to come. The air was a bit nippy, and I was tightening my shawl around my shoulders when the car pulled into my driveway. It wasn’t the real estate agent’s shiny newish car, and it wasn’t a moving van, so I couldn’t see any reason for this beige Toyota something or other to be here. I was about ready to tell the driver as much, too.

Before I could finish composing an irate but mostly polite invitation to leave, the driver stepped out and started up the porch. She was a woman of about my age, with a darker complexion and wiry gray hair pulled away from her face. Her eyes had smile lines at the corners, and her expression was friendly but firm. She carried a casserole dish with her, covered over in a layer of tinfoil, and I sighed. There was really no getting out of this. I hauled myself out of the rocker.

“Well hey there! I just wanted to stop by and welcome you to the neighborhood. Lord knows the trees won’t do it.” She motioned towards the surrounding woods with the casserole dish and her face crinkled up into a smile.

“That’s mighty kind of you. Here, I’ll take that and let you get back to your day.” The casserole dish was still warm and her hands were cool where I brushed against them. The tinfoil crinkled up at the edges and the smell of warm peaches drifted out.

“Oh, now, I’m in no rush. I was hoping to sit with you a spell and get to know you. Not many people in the area, so I gotta get my conversations in where I can. I’m Ruth, I live about ten minutes that-a-ways.”

“Name’s Lottie. Lemme get some plates and such for this, we can chat while we eat. G’on, have a seat.”

To tell the full truth, I had planned to serve up the cobbler, make as little conversation as I could get away with, and then say my goodbyes. Maybe make a few empty promises to stop round her place one of these days and few even emptier invitations for her to come calling again. If I’d had my way, I’d have been a hermit in the old mountain tradition. I suppose, in the long run, it’s a good thing I didn’t get my way.

I stepped back out onto the porch with two plates of peach cobbler and an extra blanket for Ruth. She accepted her plate with a smile, and our fingers brushed again. To her credit, the cobbler tasted amazing, and I told her as much.

“Secret family recipe” she told me, “plus I canned the peaches myself. I think it adds a little something. Where’d you move from? You sound local enough.”

“Most recently just down the hill, in State Road. I grew up further up the mountain, though, and a little to the west. Lived there from the time I was born till I was, oh, about 35. Surface mining got too close for comfort.” Ruth was nodding the whole time I was talking.

“Yeah that sounds about right. ‘Bout the same for me. Moved down the mountain, got hitched, moved back up the mountain. It’s the circle of life or something pretty close to it.”

“Sure seems that way. Never got married, though. Never struck me as something I ought to do. I like the quiet too much to have some man foolin’ around gettin’ in my way. That’s why I came back up here.”

“Well, there’s plenty of quiet up here, that’s for sure. I’m glad of it myself, but it does get a little lonesome. Ed’s been gone a good - let’s see, what’s it been? - ten years now. He was an alright husband, God rest his soul, but never much of a talker either. The kids have little ‘uns, but they mostly come up in the summer.” Ruth looked off into the trees for a minute, before turning to me. Her face was softer, and her skin didn’t seem as much crinkled as it did folded. Less like paper, more like fabric.

“So I’m glad to have a neighbor now.” She finished, and reached over to pat my hand.

We talked for a while longer, mostly about gardening, before we decided that it was about time to go back to our own businesses. And then, of course, we talked for a little longer, standing next to her car, then through the car window. I waved her off, then went back to unpacking. I tried to keep myself busy so I wouldn’t think about my visitor, but that can only last for so long.

That night, after dinner was eaten and the dishes were cleaned and put away, I settled down on the couch with a glass of whiskey and a crossword puzzle that I just couldn’t focus on. I kept going back and forth in my head about Ruth. It had started off perfectly normal, to be sure. Introducing yourself to your new neighbor with a baked good was the neighborly standard. Hadn’t the conversation gotten a little too familiar too quickly, though? On the other hand, what we’d discussed technically fell into the category of family history, which was well within the range of typical. Although, family history usually ranged to how long your grandparents had lived in the area or which of your relatives had run shine. It wasn’t so much that the visit was strange in general, but it was strange for me. I hadn’t gotten so friendly so quick with someone in decades. And such a long conversation! I hadn’t had a willing conversation longer than 15 minutes in God knows how long. I could’ve gone back and forth for the rest of the night, or at least until I’d finished my whiskey, if I hadn’t had my second, much stranger visitor.

There was a noise in the yard, though I’m hard pressed to say now exactly what it was. A stick snapping or the sound of hurried steps over the gravel in the driveway. I reached for my shotgun and went to take a peek out the front window, running through a list of possible culprits. A bear would be making more noise, it was still too far from spring for a bear to be moving gracefully. It was too big to be an opossum or a racoon. Maybe a deer, maybe a person. I stared out into the darkness.

I couldn’t quite make out where she stood at first, but my eyes adjusted enough to see her, standing towards the middle of my yard. Definitely not a deer, the shadow in my yard moved on two feet, but sort of crouched into herself. It was hard to see her exact shape, but I could tell that she was a little smaller than me, tall and around, even hunched like she was. She looked to be made of shadows, but the parts of her that I figured were her arms and legs stood starkly pale against the night. I tried to angle myself against the window to see her better, and the tip of the shotgun knocked against it, just lightly. I watched her tense, back arching so that now, instead of hunching over, she looked more coiled for a spring. Her head whipped around to face me and we locked eyes.

Good God those eyes. They shone bright in the night, a piercing green that seemed to drill into me. I remember thinking that they were so bright it seemed like they should be casing spotlights in front of her. And that it seemed like she was waiting for something. I held my breath and tried to stay still. I didn’t want to spook her, or incur her wrath. There was no telling, from just this first meeting, what kind of Thing this was in my yard. Some Things are dangerous. I was mostly just hoping she wasn’t one of those.

I’m not so sure of how long we sat there, but eventually she backed up a pace or two and then darted back into the woods. She moved a little like a human, but mostly like a catamount. Which is to say, she had her back up and her head down and moved quick and graceful, but she stayed on two legs. I stayed where I was, watching the darkness. I didn’t sleep quite as well that night.

But the sun came up, as it is wont to do, and there were things that needed doing. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen Things before, there was even a time in my life where it was downright normal to wake up midway through the night and see flashing eyes in the dark, or hear an almost-human voice calling from the woods. I was a little out of practice, that’s all. And maybe I was a little unsettled that I couldn’t quite tell what she was. I was certain I’d feel better after a little breakfast.

I did not feel better after a little breakfast. In fact, as I unloaded more books into the bookshelf I started to wonder if she would be back. While I was deciding where to hang my few pictures and paintings, I thought anxiously about teeth and claws. By the time I was trying to set up my tv I was remembering how she had moved, with a darting swiftness, and wondering if I could shoot her if I had to, and my hands shook so badly I couldn’t get the cables right. It was time for a break.

I hesitated in the doorway for a moment before stepping onto the porch. In the end, though, I decided that this was my home and I wasn’t going to be afraid in it. If that were the case, I might as well move out now. Besides, I reasoned, most Things didn’t come out in the daylight, at least not this close to people. As long as I didn’t go for a walk in the woods, I would be fine.

I sat in the rocker for a few minutes, watching the woods. All was calm. Bird song drifted on the wind, and clouds passed by overhead. Feeling emboldened by the quiet, I decided I should look to see if there were any tracks in the yard. The ground was still fairly hard from the cold, and the Thing had moved lightly, so I doubted there would be, but I looked anyway.

I stood in the middle of my yard, bent over the ground and staring holes into the grass, so focused that I didn’t hear the approaching sound of tires crunching gravel until I heard a voice call to me.

“Lottie? Y’alright?” It was Ruth, leaning out her window with a softly furrowed brow and pursed lips. I straightened and felt a flush creep up my neck, knowing how I must look. I hadn’t even put my hair up yet, and thin wispy strands of silver fell all about my face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. Just saw something out in the yard last night, was checking to see if it left a mark.” The flush crept a little higher as I watched Ruth back her car up a bit and turn into my driveway.

“I’ll help you look. I’m an amateur woodsman of sorts.” She chuckled, climbing out of her car. Despite the chill, my palms were starting to sweat. I wiped them on my jeans and decided it must have been from how I was using them to brace myself as I searched the ground. That was all.

“It’s not a whole lotta use. The ground’s still too hard for any real tracks.” I mumbled, pushing a hand through my hair and wishing she would just leave.

“Well, no harm in having a look around.” She was still smiling, but her voice was so matter of fact that I gave up and just accepted it. Ruth had wandered over to where I was standing and began inspecting the ground. I stood blushing for another minute before I bent over next to her.

Over the next 15 or so minutes we made our way across the yard, walking slowly and inspecting each step. At one point our shoulders brushed, and when I looked up there she was, so close I could feel her breath on my cheek. My heart beat so fast, I had to move away from her or I feared I would faint.

Eventually, we neared the edge of the woods. I stopped a few feet out and wouldn’t have gone any closer if not for Ruth. She kept going and called out to me that she’d found something just inside the tree line. Hesitant but unwilling to be both a fool and a coward, I followed. She’d found a place where recent snowmelt had turned the dirt into mud, and there were just a few footprints. They weren’t what I’d been expecting, though. I’d thought they’d be closer to cat paws, or taloned like a bird, but they were just human. The first couple were just the balls of her feet, but the other three were full prints of slender feet, undeniably human. Ruth turned to me.

“What exactly kind of Thing did you say you saw?” Ruth asked, and I described what I’d seen the best I could. When I’d finished, she smiled and shook her head just a little. “It’s a little far for them to travel, but I’d wager it was just a kid pulling some kinda prank. Probably won’t be back, either way.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t particularly want to say anything. It seemed to me that Ruth was treating me a bit like a tourist who doesn’t know a racoon from a cat, and I was a bit put off by that. Besides, there was something in Ruth’s expression that I couldn’t quite place. A distance in her eyes and a downward tilt to her eyebrows. It looked almost like concern, but then it was gone, and, as cliche as it sounds, I was left to wonder if it had been there at all.

“Well, I suppose you have things to be getting to. Don’t let me keep you any longer.” I may have been a tad sharper than necessary, but she’d bruised my ego, implying I didn’t know the difference between a teenager in a costume and a genuine Thing. She seemed to realize what I was upset about, though, and hurried to sooth me.

“Oh, dear, no, I didn’t mean that you don’t know what you’re talking about. I just meant, well, the footprints are certainly human, so there’s no cause for concern.” She smiled at me.

“I’d hardly say I’m concerned. I can handle myself just fine.” I said. Oh sure, I’d been worrying all morning about whether or not I could defend myself, but that was hardly the point. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was embarrassed to admit it. Good thing I knew better.

“I’m sure you can. Well, I do need to get going, but I’ll stop by later, if that’s alright with you.” Ruth was still smiling at me, and I couldn’t quite decide if it was genuine or placating. I nodded, and she was on her way. I plodded back inside and finished setting up the tv. It didn’t seem nearly so hard now.

Time crept on, and I found myself eyeing the clock more and more. Ruth hadn’t said when exactly she’d be back, but I had assumed it would be sometime near lunch. So as noon rolled around, I was disappointed to be eating alone. After lunch I found myself restless. I paced, not quickly but aimlessly, looking for things to do. The second I started in on a task, though, I was overwhelmed by the need to do something else and returned to pacing. Finally, there was a knock on the door. I hurried to answer, but stopped a foot short of answering and took a breath, chiding myself silently for acting like an excitable schoolgirl. Then I answered.

It was Ruth, of course. This time I invited her in, and we sat on the faded couch that had come with the house, sipping tea. The tv was on from where I’d been using it for background noise earlier, playing some nature documentary about elephants, but Ruth didn’t seem to mind.

“I wanted to apologize for offending you earlier. It’s a little too soon to be picking fights with my new neighbor.” Ruth smiled while she spoke, a little apologetic, a little hopeful.

“Oh, no, it’s quite alright. I was a bit oversensitive about it, that’s all.” I smiled back, trying to match her levels of apology and hope, though I’ve no doubt mine was a sight more awkward than hers. After a brief pause, Ruth cleared her throat.

“Earlier, I got the idea that you knew what you were talking about, that maybe you had experience with Things. I was just wondering what sorts of Things you’d seen before.” Ruth waited patiently while I thought about the best way to answer. Of course I’d had the usual experiences that anyone has if they stay too deep in the woods for too long, but that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, I was sure. Really, there was only one story to tell.

“When I was a girl, I would hear something in the woods calling my name. It was almost always at night, and only from the woods. It never crossed into the open space between the woods and my house. My mother told me that that was just something that happened sometimes, and to just ignore it. Well, one day I’m outside, broad daylight, and I hear it. It sounds close too, closer than normal, and I know I shouldn’t but I look over my shoulder towards it. There it is, standing right at the edge of the woods, and it looks almost exactly like me. Except the proportions are just a little off, like someone tried to draw me from memory but hadn’t seen me in a while. Well, I ran back inside, but it didn’t chase me. I never heard it call my name again.” Well, to be truthful I’d heard it call my name twice more after that, but that didn’t make for a terribly good ending. Ruth let that sit for a minute, and we listened to the narrator describe how intelligent elephants are.

“That’s pretty interesting. I’ve heard of people having their names called, but nothing’s ever called mine. I did hear whistling, though. It definitely wasn’t a bird, but it didn’t seem to be from a person, either. I never saw the source, though. It always raised the hairs on the back of my neck.” Ruth stayed until nearly sunset, talking with me about Things, before heading back to her own house. I invited her to stay for dinner, of course, but she declined, saying that she couldn’t drive well at night and needed to leave before it got dark. As we said our goodbyes on the front porch, though, she leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. As much as it embarrasses me to admit it, it made me giddier than I’d been in a long while.

That night, and every night after for the next week and a half I stayed up late, waiting for any sign that the Thing might have come back. I didn’t mean to, at first. I would go to bed at a reasonable hour and then stare up at the ceiling for hours, thinking about Ruth (how her hair had looked in the sun, how her hand had been cool and burning at the same time when she lay it on my arm) at first, and then slowly spiraling back to the Thing (how she had seemed too big and too small at the same time, how bright her eyes had shone in the dark). I started staying up in the living room later and later each night. Ruth noticed how tired I was when she visited, and I saw more of that concern I’d seen at the end of our monster hunt. Ruth visited often. Not every day, but most days she’d at least stop in for a hello, sometimes staying for lunch, almost always departing with a kiss on the cheek. I waited for Ruth during the day, and, at night, I waited for the Thing. Finally, I got tired of waiting.

One evening, after Ruth had come and gone and I could be reasonably assured I wouldn’t be caught, I started setting out some food in the yard. A little fruit, some carrots, a potato, some scraps of chicken, and a little bit of old biscuit, since there was no way to be sure what she ate. I set it all out on a tarp, the plastic kind that crinkles when it moves, far enough into the middle that anything with regular sized limbs would have to step on the tarp to get at it. Then I went back inside and began waiting for one last time.

I had almost dozed off when I heard the tarp crinkle. I thought that perhaps I’d dreamed it, but after a pause there were a few more crinkles. I shot out of my chair and stumbled to the door, shaking off sleep as I went. I didn’t even pause to consider that there were plenty of other things it could have been. I just threw the door open, light spilling out onto the front yard, and there she was.

Her face was definitely human, the face of a young woman with dark hair and green eyes. Her eyes didn’t look so much brighter than normal now that she was lit up. She was petite, maybe 5’5” at most, and shaped like a track star. From her neck down to her elbows she was dripping in feathers, black as a raven and thickly layered. Antlers grew out of her tangled hair, ridged in a spiral like gazelle horns, but branching like a deer, too. Those were the first things I noticed, as we stood there, staring at each other. Then she shifted backwards and I noticed two more things. Firstly, that she stood on just the balls of her feet and kept her legs at an awkward bend. And secondly that, where her fingers should have been, were long, tapering, black claws, roughly the same size as fingers. She seemed to know where I was looking and curled her finger-claws in as much as she could, though it was clear that they weren’t as flexible as fingers. She shifted another step backwards, and I knew that she was about to high tail it out of there.

“Wait!” I yelled, and she paused, tipping her head to the right. She looked a little confused, a little startled, but also like she understood, so I kept talking. “It’s for you. The food. You can eat it here or take it with you, but don’t let me run you off. I won’t hurt you. There’s no need for fear.”

I watched as she slowly, ever so slowly, bent down. Her eyes never left mine, half wary and half curious. She picked up a pear in one hand, holding it so delicately that her claws didn’t even graze the peel, and in the other she picked up a piece of chicken and one of the biscuits. She straightened back up mostly and nodded at me just as slowly, before darting off back into the woods. I stood there, watching after her, for God only knows how long. Then the chill brought me back to my senses, and I went back inside.

After that it became something of a nightly routine. After that first night, I opened the door much calmer and greeted her quietly. I took note of what she ate and what she left, figuring out her favorites. I also noticed that she started coming earlier each night, just by a bit. I started waiting on the porch for her, and would chat quietly to her while she ate. It was almost like feeding a stray cat, if I didn’t think too hard about it. And I didn’t. Think too hard about it, that is, though I probably should have.

Of course, life went on during the day. Ruth would stop by and chat about anything and everything. We talked about her children (two, fraternal twins), and grandkids (three, all from her son), and my past (retired elementary school teacher, no family left to speak of), and everything in between. I was getting quite comfortable with her. I’d almost forgotten how much I didn’t like company.

Then, one afternoon as Ruth and I were sitting on the porch, enjoying the slowly warming weather, a vaguely familiar car pulled up into my driveway, behind Ruth’s Toyota and my beat up old Subaru. Out stepped that real estate agent, young and shiny, and he picked his way over to the porch, where he stopped in front of us and leaned against the railing like he was just visiting some friends. I was glad that there were only two chairs, hopefully he would get tired of standing and leave sooner rather than later. Ruth smiled at him.

“Well hello ladies! I just wanted to drop by and see how you were settling in. I was concerned, leaving you all the way out here, but I’m so glad to see you’re making friends!” He sounded like he was making a considerable effort to sound local, but I could tell he was about as local as a coconut. On top of that, he was using that gentle voice people use when they think you’re an idiot or senile, and I was neither. He gave us his most winsome smile, but I wasn’t having any of it.

“Well. As you can see, I’m quite alright. So if that’s all, I’d like to get back to my afternoon, and you’re blocking the view.” I scowled just a bit, and the young man flushed slightly. Ruth eyed us both, looking terribly amused. The man recovered with a slight cough and fixed his smile back in place. He tried to hand me his business card, but when I wouldn’t take it he handed it to Ruth instead.

“Okay then. I should be heading back to work, but don’t hesitate to call if you need anything! Y’all take care now!” And with that he walked back to his car and left with barely a backwards glance. I scoffed.

“I oughta put up a no trespassing sign.” As soon as I said this, Ruth stopped holding back her laughter and started cackling up a storm.

“Lord, Lottie, there was no need to maul the poor kid, bless his heart.” She was grinning at me, and I cracked a little smile, too. She’d reached over and put her hand over mine, squeezing a little to let me know she was teasing.

“I just didn’t like his tone. People’ve been talking to me like I don’t have any sense my whole life, and now that I’m old I’m expected to sit back and take it? No sir I think not.” But I was laughing now too, and I let Ruth tease me good naturedly about being too prickly for my own good.

That night I told my little visitor all about it, and she surprised me by smiling a little at my imitation of the real estate man. I could tell she was warming up to me, and I liked that. By the end of the second week she was arriving just after sundown, and she had started eating while standing flat footed, not poised on the balls of her feet to run. I considered it a major victory. I didn’t think there was much more to it.

Until, one night, she surprised me again. She had finished eating, and I had finished talking, and I had said a soft goodnight, when she paused and lifted her chin. There was a strange tension in her jaw, and I watched her work at it for a moment before she opened her mouth and spoke.

“Th...Hank you. Good ni-ght.” Her voice was rough, almost callused , if a voice can be called such. Her whole body seemed tense, and her eyes locked onto mine, partly showing fear, partly issuing a challenge.

“Good, goodnight. You’re welcome.” I finally managed, and she nodded, running off. I sat there for a long time, before slowly making my way inside and upstairs to bed. My mind was full of nothing but a sort of buzzing static for a good long while. Then, all at once, the thoughts piled in on top of each other. It didn’t seem like feeding a stray cat anymore. If she had language, perhaps her face wasn’t the only part of her that was human. I wasn’t sure what to do about that. I decided that the first step would be telling Ruth. She could help me figure out what to do.

The morning came too soon, a drizzly mess of a day. All day I was listless, and the weather sure didn’t help. It was too wet to be outside, but not wet enough to be relaxing. There was no rain-on-a-tin-roof to soothe me, just an endless drizzle of gray. I paced from room to room, hoping that Ruth would come by, but she never did. The day ran away like the rain down the mountain, and soon I was setting out some food. After a bit of deliberation, I kept the food on the porch, to avoid getting it soggy. I had a feeling that my visitor wouldn’t mind so much, seeing how she lived outside as far as I knew, but no matter how used to the rain you are, dry food is always better than soggy. I set the food away from my chair, though, thinking she might still be a bit skittish.

I almost thought she wouldn’t come. To be fair, it was difficult to tell when the sun was setting, I may have started waiting too soon. But she arrived, and, after the briefest of hesitations, came up on the porch.

“Don’t worry about me, just c’mon and get out of the rain for a bit.” I tried not to stare at her as she ate, but I couldn’t help but look over occasionally, sneaking glances. She sat on the porch, and used her finger claws like sporks, partially skewering, partially scooping. I rocked for a while, staring out into the gloom, gathering my courage. I waited until she had finished her meal before speaking up again.

“Do you have a name?” I tried to keep my rocking steady, but surely she could tell I was nervous. She sat very still. I could see her jaw working.

“Beebeeee”

“Bibi?”

She nodded and looked up at me. She hadn’t left yet, and I stopped rocking to look at her. She was definitely younger than I’d thought, from this close up. Early 20s, at the latest. She was dirty, too, and heavily freckled so that I could hardly tell what was dirt and what was a sunkiss. Her feathers, which I had took to maybe be a shawl she was wearing but could now see were certainly growing out of her, were stuck together with some sort of oily mud. Her hair was what my mother would’ve called a rats nest, though her antlers seemed well cared for. Her claws, too, were shiny and clean.

“Bibi? I wonder if I might...if you’d like, I could get you clean. Run you up a bath, maybe?” I tried to make my voice gentle as I reached a hand out to her. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I left my hand hanging in the air for a minute and, slowly, Bibi placed her claws gently in my hand. I smiled at her, trying hard not to be unnerved by the texture, which was not unlike a bird’s talon.

I didn’t quite get her into a bath, but I did manage a brush through her hair. There were a few rough spots, when the brush hit a snag and she hissed in pain I worried that she would bolt. I took to shushing her like you might a horse in a thunderstorm. Just a bit surprising, it seemed to work. She sat at the foot of my rocker, and I told quiet, old stories to her. While I worked on her hair, I gave her a damp washcloth to take to her face. She tried very hard to hold it gently, but by the time I was done with her hair the washcloth was shredded. She looked up at me, panicked.

“It’s alright. I have plenty of washcloths, no need to fuss over one.” I tried not to use that voice the real estate agent had used on me, the one I hated so much. She stared back at me.

“Iiih-ts alriitght” she repeated with some difficulty. She did seem to be getting better at speaking, but I couldn’t help wondering how long she’d gone without talking. I nodded and smiled reassuringly.

“Bibi, would it be alright if Ruth met you, too?” I’d been telling her about Ruth, of course, but if I was going to tell Ruth about Bibi, it was only fair that Bibi have some say in it.

She tipped her head to the side, considering. Finally, she nodded.

“It’s alllriight.” She said, a little clearer this time.

She left after that. I wanted to invite her inside, to stay somewhere warm and dry for the night, but I thought that might be too much too quickly. I was starting to reconsider my policy on guest rooms. As I lay down, I tried not to think about Bibi, in the woods, alone all night in the cold and rain. I certainly didn’t think about what may have led her to be there, and at such a young age, too. Or how long she must have been there, for her voice to be so scratchy from disuse. I fell asleep, not thinking of any of these things.

The next day was cloudy, but dryer. I was almost prepared for Ruth’s visit, when it came. I made sandwiches and tea, and we sat on the porch, having a nice lunch while I tried to bring the words from my throat into my mouth. Finally I was out of time.

“Ruth, do you remember, a few weeks ago, when I told you about what I saw in my yard?” I watched her stiffen just a bit.

“Yes.”

“I’ve seen her, more’n a few times.” Ruth stiffened more, then sighed.

“I thought you might, but I’d hoped you wouldn’t. The last few people who lived here saw her, just once or twice, but it scared them something awful and they left. I didn’t want...well I just enjoy your company so much. I worried you might leave too.” She looked away, a faint flush creeping up her neck and dusting over her cheek bones. I reached out and took her hand in mine, squeezing gently until she looked back at me.

“Come back later this evening, or stay with me here until then. I want to introduce you to her.” Her eyes widened, and I couldn’t help but notice the blush darken on her cheeks as she squeezed my hand back.

“Introduce me to her? What d’you mean? Things can’t talk, Lottie.”

“This one can. Her name is Bibi, and she’s actually a sweetheart.”

Ruth ended up spending the rest of the day with me as I told her all about Bibi, and what to expect. As evening approached, I could tell Ruth was a bit nervous. Maybe a bit more than a bit. I took both her hands in mine, and they were shaking just a little. I smiled, trying to be reassuring, and then leaned in a kissed her, just gently.

“Don’t worry about a thing. It’s all okay. And if you’re really too nervous, you can always say no. You can stay in here if you’d like, or go home if you’d rather. But it would mean a lot for you to come out with me.”

The introduction could have been smoother, but it could’ve been rougher, too. Bibi had said it was alright for Ruth to come, but I still didn’t know what to expect from her. She didn’t bolt off into the woods, though, and eventually I was able to coax her onto the porch and introduce her properly. Ruth, though she was startled at first, handled it well, and once Bibi got close enough for her to really have a look at, her eyes softened.

“Oh, poor dear.” Ruth said, reaching out a hand to smooth Bibi’s feathers, feeling of the oily mud that I’d yet to get rid of. “We’ll have to do something about that. Some warm vinegar water, maybe. That’ll clear up most things.” Bibi, after sitting a spell, was even able to relax into Ruth’s touch while she ate.

Ruth stayed late into the night, making plans with me about Bibi. The first thing we should do, according to Ruth, was figure out if Bibi had a history as a human, or if she’d always been this way. Tomorrow, we decided, we would drive down into town and take a look at old missing persons reports and newspapers to look for clues. After that it was just a matter of cleaning her up and settling her in to live with me. By that point it was too late for Ruth to be driving home, but I was glad to have her stay the night.

I hadn’t had company for breakfast in quite a while, but it wasn’t nearly so awkward as I thought it might be. We fit well together. And it certainly made going into town together easier. The police station was not terribly helpful, but the library had plenty of old newspapers. After a good couple hours of clicking through slides and flipping through physical copies, I finally landed on a report that seemed promising. I waved Ruth over and showed her the article.

It was a short piece, just a single column with a small photograph at the bottom. It listed an Abigail Waters, age 5, as missing following what appeared to be a domestic dispute turned tragedy. Though there weren’t many details in the paper and no follow-up article, Ruth and I concluded that after whatever awful thing happened, Bibi had fled into the woods and simply stayed there. The paper was dated to nearly 20 years ago. The picture showed a tiny little thing with long dark hair and unusually bright green eyes.

“I wonder when she grew her feathers and her antlers and her claws, before or after the tragedy, all at once or piece by piece.” I whispered, half because we were in a library, half because this was just the sort of thing I felt should be whispered about. Ruth looked contemplative.

“When bad things happen to people,” she began slowly, also whispering, “sometimes they grow claws or fangs or spikes. Usually they’re on the inside, they just happened to be on the outside for Bibi.” Her eyes still scanned the clipping while I thought about that. I guessed that it made sense. Wasn’t my prickliness, as Ruth put it, just claws on the inside? Ruth tapped me on the arm and pointed to a detail I’d overlooked before. There was a smaller picture, off to the side a bit so I’d assumed it went with the article next to it, showing the area Bibi had gone missing in.

“The road isn’t named, but that’s right about where your house sits, Lottie.” I nodded and swallowed hard.

“You said the other people who’d lived in that house saw her, too. How many times did she try to go home?” I looked up at Ruth and found her already looking back at me. We didn’t have to speak to know that from now on, there’d be no more trying. Bibi was coming home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was some two years ago, now. I sit in my rocker, Ruth sits in hers, and Bibi sits on the steps. Her claws clink against the glass in her hands as she takes a sip of lemonade, feathers shining deep purple in the sunlight. She’s keeping an eye on the older two grandkids as they run around the yard. The youngest one sits by my feet, her knees pulled up to her chest, her dark brown eyes staring up at me.

“Of course, it took your parents more time to adjust. Your mother worried over Bibi’s claws, thought she might hurt one of you. But she never has, even accidentally, and Bibi won her and your father over in the end.” I reach down and pat the little dear on the head.

“That’s my favorite story.” She says, smiling up at me. There’s no trace of tears now, the scrape on her knee that brought her over to my chair in the first place all but forgotten. She hops up and scampers back out into the yard to play with her big brothers, giving Bibi a quick hug as she passes by.

Bibi comes over to take her place by my feet, and I make a mental note to ask her once again later if she’s sure she doesn’t want her own rocking chair. She leans her head against my knee. I can feel her working her jaw slightly, a tic she never quite lost, but her voice isn’t nearly so rusty anymore.

“It’s my favorite story, too. Thanks for bringing me home.”

#writing #short story #original work #this one's a little longer #cryptid

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theworkofxanderking · 4 years

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The Hunter Diaries

Volume One

Warnings: I do not own the original content to “The Originals”, “The Vampire Diaries” or “Legacies” or any of the characters from the television shows.

15 plus, displays of Violence, Gore, Torture, M/M, F/M, F/F.

Dear Diary,

I returned to Mystic Falls to protect my sister Elena from a darkness she never understood but it was me who never truly understood it and now I stay while I try to work out if the Salvatore brothers are allies or enemies.

My name is Hunter Gilbert, and this is my story.

Episode 2: Love Thy Brother

“So, you mean to tell me you’re actually a good vampire and all this dumping my body in a grave was just a big misunderstanding.” Hunter scoffed while still covered in the dirt from his grave as he and Stefan remained within the woods of Mystic Falls.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Stefan laughed. “Surely in the short time you’ve been hunting in the family name you’ve come across at least one good hearted vampire.”

“Two years I’ve been doing this, and not once have I ever met a vampire who claimed to be on the good side.” Hunter replied. “Although it’s not exactly like I stopped to ask before killing them.”

“So, you’ve just been going around the world killing vampires and you think I’m the bad one.” Stefan snapped.

“It’s not like conversations with the undead were the top of my agenda I was taught to hunt not make nice with bloodsuckers.” Hunter snapped back.

“Bloodsuckers? Really I haven’t even had blood from a human in decades.” Stefan admitted in fury.

“Hold up you’ve been restraining yourself from human blood?” Hunter asked in shock by Stefan’s admission. “My father never told me of any vampire who didn’t drink from humans.”

“I’m guessing your father didn’t have much time to teach you that the world isn’t as black and white as vampires versus humans.” Stefan said with a sigh. “Hold up, if you’ve been doing this for two years you must’ve been fifteen when you started.”

“Yeah my parents weren’t too keen on Elena picking up the family mantle, so I got stuck doing the gig solo.” Hunter replied. “Sometimes I love it, the adventure, the adrenaline it’s out of this world and sometimes I just wish I was at the stupid boarding school.”

“I think I know why Elena didn’t follow in your footsteps.” Stefan revealed. “The question is can I trust you?”

“Can you trust me?” Hunter scoffed. “I’ve just clawed my way out of a grave you put me in.”

“Technically my brother put you there not me.” Stefan answered him. “I was kind enough to wait around for you.”

“Yeah well next time at least be waiting with water or something because choking on dirt really tastes like well choking on dirt.” Hunter demanded. “I’ll give you about as much trust as any hunter would trust a vampire.”

“Okay I suppose that’s the best I can ask for right now.” Stefan reluctantly replied. “The story begins with a girl named Katerina Petrova although when I first knew her, she went by Katherine Pierce.”

“You want to tell me why my twin sister is the doppelganger of a centuries old vampire known as Katherine Pierce?” Hunter asked his aunt Jenna as he marched into the kitchen of his family home where Jenna was stood cleaning dishes.

“Your parents were meant to tell you and then they had their accident,” Jenna revealed as she stopped washing the dishes and began drying her hands. “They were trying to protect you from the truth.”

“Which would be?” Hunter quizzed.

“Elena’s not your twin sister in fact you real birthdays are a couple of months apart,” Jenna admitted. “Your mother found her in a basket on the doorstep when you were a few months old they fell in love with her instantly and you two were so close even back then, so they decided to keep her.”

“So, she’s not even my sister.” Hunter replied in complete disbelief to what he had just heard.

“Just because she’s not your blood doesn’t mean she’s not your sister.” Jenna stated as she placed her hand on her nephew’s hand lovingly. “She’s still the girl you grew up with, she’s still the daughter your parents raised.”

“What has Katherine Pierce got to do with all this?” Hunter asked as he removed his hand from Jenna’s making it clear he was far from amused with his family’s lies. “Why has she got a centuries old evil twin? Stefan said as much as he knew which except for the fact she’s not in some tomb under an old church is frankly not much. He doesn’t seem to know how the two are so connected but he reckons is can’t be good.”

“Since when did you start making friends with targets?” Jenna quizzed.

“No, you don’t get to ask me questions right now!” Hunter snapped.

“Your parents never knew the connection at first, but it became clear she was Katherine’s doppelganger I don’t understand it any more than they did, but we knew to not flaunt it by making her join the family’s hunting habits.” Jenna reluctantly admitted. “There’s a lot of rumors about doppelgangers and the first vampires but as far as I know that’s all they are.”

“Did nobody think why I was out there in the big bad world meeting Katherine may have thrown me off guard?” Hunter asked.

“We thought she was trapped in that tomb until now.” Jenna replied. “I really am sorry I’ve kept this from you for so long, but we were only trying to protect her.”

“Funny,” Hunter responded as his voice began to crack. “I’ve lost count on the amount of times I’ve died and came back thanks to the Gilbert ring and nobody ever seemed to want to protect me.”

“Hunting is a choice you don’t have to be a hunter, your mum retired, I retired.” Jenna said in a bid to reassure her nephew.

“I’m late for school I best get going.” Hunter replied with tears in his eyes.

“So your telling me Elena Gilbert’s not so twin brother is a hunter who tried to kill you last night and probably would have if I didn’t intervene and you thought it was a great idea to inform him about Katherine Pierce.” Damon snapped at Stefan as he sat on the couch in the living room area of the Salvatore home while drinking a glass of whisky as his younger brother stood above him.

“You wouldn’t understand my reasoning because you only see enemies whereas I see potential allies.” Stefan explained himself.

“He tried you kill you Stefan.” Damon replied as he finished his glass of whisky.

“Yeah and you actually killed him.” Stefan retorted as Damon stood up.

“Clearly not good enough,” Damon declared. “By the way what is the deal with that?”

“I’d rather not tell you too much about that considering I don’t trust you not to use it to kill Elena’s brother more permanently.” Stefan admitted to him.

“Oh, please Stefan playing the hero must get really old,” Damon scoffed. “He’s a hunter he hunts vampires, we are vampires the way I see it we either wind up dead or he does, and I know which option I prefer.”

“I don’t believe that I believe we can trust him.” Stefan replied causing Damon to scoff once more. “Besides if anyone is going to find the connection between Elena and Katherine it would be her handy family of hunters.”

“Wait are you telling me this kid hunter actually knows something about them being connected?” Damon asked his younger brother.

“Not that I can tell no, but I have a feeling he’s going to be essential in helping us find out.” Stefan answered his older brother.

“I still say we kill him I mean one less hunter equals one less problem.” Damon replied with a sinister smirk that made Stefan uneasy.

Hunter walked up to the front entrance of Mystic Falls High to find Tyler stood there anxiously waiting for what looked like he was waiting for him. They had agreed to be friends after all but dealing with complicated entanglements was far from what he was ready for today especially after all the news he had just learned.

“Hey, I was beginning to think you were going to be late for your second day back.” Tyler greeted him. “Mind you back in the day that tended to be our thing.”

“We used to have a lot of things before you started having them with Vicki Donovan.” Hunter snapped, instantly regretting his words. “I’m sorry you didn’t deserve that.”

“What happened to us starting afresh?” Tyler asked him as he realised a new start wasn’t on the cards for them. “I’m sorry for what went down Hunter I really am but that was two freaking years ago neither of us are even the same people we were back then.”

“I know,” Hunter said with a reluctant sigh. “I’ve just had a really long morning the kind of long morning I’ve not had in a while and I could really do with bitching to my mother about it but she’s not here anymore.”

“I’m sorry it’s bound to be hard being back here after everything,” Tyler said while placing his hand on Hunter’s shoulder in a bid to comfort him. “You know whenever you need someone to talk to, I’m always here for you.”

“Thanks Tyler,” Hunter responded with a soft smile before the two walked into the high school “I just kind of hoped I’d never have to be back here.”

Hunter and Tyler instantly clocked eyes with Bonnie and Elena who were stood side by side in the corridors right in front of their lockers, Bonnie signalling them both to walk over to them.

“It’s good to see you two have rekindled the bromance,” Elena said with a smile. “I guess you crashed at Tyler’s after the party, next time drop us a text I was pretty worried.”

“Actually...” Hunter began to say.

“His phone crashed not long after we arrived back at mine and we didn’t think to find a charger until morning.” Tyler lied without hesitation causing Hunter to smile over his friend having his back.

“Well aunt Jenna was up all night worrying.” Elena replied to her brother Hunter. “So next time just remember to notify one of us but I’m glad you’re starting to readjust to life back in Mystic Falls.

“Sure thing,” Hunter responded while looking at the sister he had just learned wasn’t his blood.

“Are you okay Hunter?” Elena asked him.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Hunter answered before turning to look at Bonnie. “So, how was your grams last night I’ve been meaning to visit Mrs Bennett.”

“Now that’s a story we’re going to need to save for lunch.” Bonnie responded as her and Elena laughed to themselves.

Hunter had spent all day at school trying to play the part of a normal teenager once again, the second day in a row now and the role itself he found harder to play by the minute before deciding to skip school halfway through the day in an attempt to do anything other than think.

Upon sneaking out the front door and walking through the school campus he was stunned to find Damon stood within the car park leaning against his blue 1969 Chevy Camaro Convertible and decided to walk over to the vampire who had killed him the night willing for anything to distract him from the confusion he was feeling over his family following Elena’s parental revelations.

“Hunting vampires by night and attending high school during the day you know I’m sure there’s a TV show about that only with more women power.” Damon said to him. “Also, that girl was a lot more impressive than you.”

“I didn’t realize impressing you was part of my job.” Hunter replied. “Here’s me thinking hunting and killing you were the only things on my job description.”

“Last time I checked I did the hunting and you did the dying.” Damon responded with a devilish smirk.

“Clearly I’m a lot better at killing than you because I’m still very much alive.” Hunter stated.

“Yes, you are,” Damon said as he walked towards Hunter. “The question however is how are you alive?”

“Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you all about it.” Hunter revealed.

“Underage drinking, skipping school and several homicides little Gilbert you have been busy.” Damon replied with his signature sense of sarcasm. “I guess we have a deal.”

Hunter sat in the passenger seat in Damon’s car while Damon drove down the roads on the outskirts of Mystic Falls a journey which seemed to last forever which in reality was probably only an hour at max as the two remained silent for that entire time until Hunter decided to break the silence.

“I don’t normally jump into cars with my targets, but it’s been a strange couple of days and routine has truly went out the window.” Hunter admitted as Damon kept his eyes on the road.

“My brother seems to believe that you’re more capable than us to finding out the truth behind Elena and Katherine’s unexplained connection.” Damon replied. “I for one think he’s laying far too much hope on a hunter whose only been in the job for two years I mean your biggest target so far has probably been Bambi’s mum.”

“Seven vampires in two years although I’ll admit none of them were nearly as old as you.” Hunter revealed. “As for Elena the only information I’ve learned so far is she’s not actually my sister and my guess the truth behind this Katherine connection lies within her real parentage.”

“That’s it,” Damon snapped as he slammed down on his breaks causing the car to come to a crashing stop. “I figured that one out during day one which means Stefan was wrong about you and it’s time for that drink.”

Damon pulled Hunter in towards him displaying his vamp face in the process before plunging his fangs into Hunter’s neck before Hunter even had a chance to react Damon pulled back coughing up the blood, he had just taken from the Gilbert man.

“Your blood,” Damon said as he continued to cough. “Your blood tastes like death.”

Hunter laughed at the vicious vampire only serving to make Damon more furious as he unbuckled Hunter’s seat belt before throwing him with force through the windscreen of his car causing Hunter’s body to bounce off the bonnet before slamming into the cold hard road.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play with your food.” Hunter replied smugly as he rose back onto his feet.

Damon wasted no time in restarting his car and going full speed towards Hunter running him over in the process Hunter’s body once again slamming onto the ground as Damon’s car drove over him in which Damon decided to stop then reverse his car to go over Hunter’s body once more continuing to reverse until Hunter’s lifeless broken, bloody and bruised body lay on the road in front of him causing Damon to smile at his victory.

As the hours passed day quickly turned into night and Damon remained in his car watching over Hunter’s lifeless body laying on the ground waiting for him to return to the land of the living intrigued as to how the process worked but not quite as intrigued as to why his blood tasted so bitter in his mouth.

He seen Stefan vamp speed from further down the road and over to Hunter’s lifeless body forcing himself to get out the car to talk with his younger brother who was clearly far from impressed.

“I told you I had it handled,” Stefan shouted after vamp speeding over to Damon and slamming his brother’s body against the car. “I swear to god if you have killed Elena’s brother, I will kill you myself.”

“Stefan I’m merely just doing some of my own detective work.” Damon explained as he pushed his brother off him. “Besides with the bunny blood you keep ingesting we both know you’re not able to take me brother.”

“Are all vampires this bloody broody?” Hunter asked while struggling for breath after rising to his feet, the life clearly having returned to his body.

“Are you okay?” Stefan asked after vamp speeding over to Hunter.

“Let’s just say I’ve died a lot more than twice over the last two days.” Hunter admitted to Stefan. “Although it never gets any less painful.”

“Just how many times have you died?” Damon questioned the Gilbert boy after vamp speeding over to stand beside him and Stefan. “Something tells me that’s why your blood tastes so awful.”

“Your pretty arrogant for a vampire who has tried to end me twice and failed twice.” Hunter snapped at him.

“I’ve tried and succeeded twice not my fault you have some witchy work around.” Damon snapped back.

“Can we leave the fighting until after we all find out why Elena is connected to Katherine?” Stefan asked them both. “After all we do all care about her.”

“I’d rather die than trust this son of a bitch!” Hunter declared while pointing at Damon.

“Well you have died twice already.” Damon replied smugly.

“Let’s see how well you do one on one without any sucker punch moves.” Hunter warned the older Salvatore brother.

“See now your talking.” Damon responded before Stefan grabbed a hold of his brother’s head and snapped his neck forcing Damon’s lifeless body to hit the ground.

“Okay I’m going to say it I’m beginning to like you Stefan Salvatore.” Hunter admitted while looking down at an unconscious Damon.

“Let’s go somewhere and talk.” Stefan said with a sigh making it clear he wasn’t happy mediating between Elena’s brother and his own brother.

“So, you mean to tell me that Damon Salvatore the man who has now killed me twice actually served time as a soldier in a war protecting our country?” Hunter asked while eating French fries at a booth in Mystic Grill, Stefan sat opposite him smiling away.

“He isn’t all evil there is a human deep down inside there I mean how else would he care so much for Elena or why wouldn’t he have killed me by now?” Stefan stated. “I mean I’ve been harassing him for well over a century and a half.”

“This whole vampire having humanity is new to me and to be honest I’m yet to see any proof Damon has any.” Hunter replied before stopping eating his fries. “Although you’re proving yourself something of an ally and you’re the only person in my life that’s not lying to me or I’m having to lie to.”

“You can’t blame your aunt Jenna too much as she was doing was respecting your parents’ wishes and all they were doing was protecting your sister.” Stefan explained.

“You really do love her, don’t you?” Hunter asked.

“Yes, I do.” Stefan admitted.

“And Damon?” Hunter continued.

“He loves her too more so since he learned his former love of his life fooled him into thinking she was trapped in some tomb along with several other vampires.” Stefan revealed.

“Katherine.” Hunter sighed before the two of them noticed Elena and Bonnie walk into the Mystic Grill.

The two girls quickly made their way over to Stefan and Hunter with Elena kissing Stefan on the lips before sitting down next to him and Bonnie pinching a fry from Hunter’s plate before sitting down next to him.

“Are you guys like friends now?” Elena asked. “I’m totally down with my brother and boyfriend being best friends but please less of the ditching school.”

“Stefan’s just been helping me readjust to life in Mystic Falls.” Hunter explained to his sister and her best friend. “I’m beginning to think coming back was the right move after all.”

“You can’t believe how happy I am to here that.” Elena replied with a sincere smile as she reached over the tabled and held her brother’s hand. “We should celebrate with cake.”

“Oh, I second that notion.” Bonnie laughed.

“I could kill for some chocolate cake right now,” Hunter smirked while looking over at Stefan who was smiling at him the two of them in unison over their secret lives that neither Elena nor Bonnie knew of…for now!

#damon salvatore #elena gilbert #stefan salvatore #bonnie bennett #tyler lockwood #jenna sommers #original character #vampire diaries #vampire diaries fanfiction #vampire diaries fic #stelena #delena #mysticfalls #mysticgrill #damonscar #alternative universe #episode two

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dalekofchaos · 5 years

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An analysis of Michael Myers as he's portrayed only in the original Halloween

From reddit user silviod

When we think of Michael Myers, we think of The Shape - standing, staring, white mask and blue overalls. We think of the music, and the relentless pursuit. We think of the iconography of the killer and his permeation into horror and cinema. What we generally don't think of is the human, and that makes sense: John Carpenter has often described him as being 'almost supernatural' and 'a force of nature.' In Halloween itself, released in 1978, Michael Myers' psychiatrist, Dr. Sam Loomis, describes Myers as being "pure and simply evil." He is evil personified, and that is it. But let's get into a bit more detail here, because despite everything, the Michael Myers that we see in the original Halloween has flesh and blood and hair.

Let's just get one thing out of the way straight away: Michael Myers isn't Laurie Strode's brother. This was, of course, a twist invented by the alcohol-infused mind of Carpenter and Hill for the 1981 sequel and has no relevance here. I'm talking specifically about Michael Myers as he's presented in Halloween and Halloween only. So we open with the POV shot of Myers killing his sister Judith. He walks outside and his mask is removed by his parents - he's near catatonic, and seems shocked at what he's done. Bullshit to all those who say he had a blank expression - that is not the fucking look of an expressionless kid. It might not be much, and his shock doesn't imply he's less evil, it just shows that this is probably his first exposure to anything of the magnitude of murder. Skip to years later, and Michael is 21. Let's outline the moments we spend with Michael, as well as his actions and the way he holds himself. Loomis and a nurse are going to Smiths Grove to pick him up and take him to be tried as an adult. As they approach the sanitarium, they notice many wandering inmates in the darkened fields. As Loomis gets out to investigate, Myers leaps onto the car from behind like an animal. He's swift and quick, and is already playful in his actions. He makes noise on top of the car to startle the nurse, then smashes the side window and tries to grab her. He jumps down, throws her out the car and hops in. He drives away. Now he embarks on his 100 mile plus road trip to Haddonfield.

On the way, he stops at a garage, kills a guy there, and steals his overalls. He arrives in Haddonfield, breaks into a shop and steals a mask. He returns to his old home, eats a dog, and sees Laurie walk up to the door. He decides to start following her, so he hops in the car and does so. He follows little Tommy, Laurie, and Laurie's friends. He stands on the streets and in gardens and intentionally exposes himself, then hides. He's letting them know that he's around. In my head, Myers was always robotic, with surgeon-like stillness, but he really isn't like that. He holds onto the trees as he hides behind them and leers out from the side. He stumbles and knocks a plant over when watching a girl in her house and backs away quickly as it made noise - or was this intentional? Either way, he's not anywhere near as robotic in his mannerisms as I remembered.

His stalking is deliberate and unsubtle. He doesn't give a shit if people notice him, as long as the ones he's targeting do. He's really getting off on this. Eventually, he decides to actually start killing them. He sees Annie naked, as she spills whatever-the-fuck-she-spills on herself. He watches her this entire time - these scenes constantly have Myers presence, because he's constantly there. At this point, he's staying within a tiny radius: just two houses. He's got everything else out the way now His sister's gravestone was successfully retrieved earlier and he's already popped that into the house ready to decorate his house-of-horrors. The killing begins. He's stalked for at least twelve hours, and by now he understands the people he's watching and he's figured out their interpersonal relationships. For a man who does twelve hours of stalking, his kills are pretty quick. A strangulation, a cut throat and a stabbing. It seems this isn't the ultimate goal for him, it's just the final piece in a long chain of excitements. When he killed Judith as a kid, he watched her first. It's probably likely that, for hours, days or weeks before the scene that opens Halloween, he was watching Judith not with eyes of a younger brother, but eyes of a killer.

He kills Annie and then takes her corpse upstairs where he positions her on the bed. He waits again, this time for someone else to arrive. Lynda and her boyfriend rock up soon after, so it's time to start killing. Michael has paid the least attention to these two in terms of stalking, so he gets to business quite a bit quicker. He lets them have sex - yes, this is a matter of him allowing them to, because he was there the entire time. Then, the guy goes downstairs to retrieve some beers. There, Michael makes a noise and then hides in a closet, waiting for the guy to investigate. He lunges out the closet and pierces the guys' chest, nailing him to the wall with the knife. The guy dies, and Myers does what is now considered one of his trademarks: his head tilt. He probably had a similar experience after killing Annie, but it cuts pretty soon after that one so we don't get to see it. Nick Castle - the actor portraying Myers - was told by Carpenter to act like a kid who had pinned a butterfly to a board: it's almost as if there is an element of curiosity here. And that's where we get to an interesting point: Myers has been catatonic and lifeless since the killing of his sister 15 years ago. Not a word spoken. We imagine Myers sat in his room, all day, every day, staring. Staring at the walls. He grew. He went through puberty. He grew into a man. All whilst in this state. It's not unreasonable to surmise from this that he's probably, on some level, in a state of arrested development. What could there be to develop him? He was, presumably, a normal child, in a normal household on a normal street in a normal school, before he murdered Judith. Whatever was brewing inside of him took over when he killed Judith, and he froze in that moment - he'd have to. He spent all of his time thinking about that kill, because if not, why would he instantly start trying to memorialise, to relive? Why bring his sister's gravestone to his new house of mayhem if he didn't have some affinity to it? Michael Myers is still that six year old boy, and he's still got that curiosity. Whatever it is that drives Michael to kill, it's in the same state as it was when he was six: he likely killed Judith out of curiosity, and here he is again. He's amazed that he just pinned someone to a wall! Wow, no longer does he only have one kill to fantasise about, but he's wracking up more and more.

He then follows this firey curiosity with another infamous Myers moment - he takes a bedsheet, cuts out two holes, puts it over his head, puts his recent victim's glasses over it and heads upstairs. He opens the door of the bedroom and stands there, then after a moment, edges himself closer. After a while, he strangles her and she dies. But let's think about this: after killing that guy, whose name I have just completely forgotten, he cuts holes out of a bedsheet and wears it like a ghost. What does this say about Michael Myers? He roamed around the kitchen searching for scissors, cut out eyeholes, put the bedsheet on over the mask he's already wearing and puts the glasses on top of that. Is this his sense of humour? Is this just a method of getting closer to his victim without her knowing, so she's easier to attack? Some people say it's that, but Michael Myers simply wouldn't care about that. She was in bed, naked, a few feet from him. If he opened the door as himself or as the bedsheet, it wouldn't matter. He's just curious, and weird. He wanted to watch her for a while. By doing this, he can see her not just in a state of fear, but in an unalarmed, happy state. He didn't know what she'd do, but he was curious and excited to see it. His decision to do this also shows his creative flair - even if he is celebrating an ode to Judith's original kill 15 years ago, he's doing different things. Lynda was in a bedroom, naked and post-sex with her boyfriend. The environmental factors were almost the same as Judith's original kill. If Michael was simply trying to recreate the kill as an obsession to the original kill, he wouldn't be adding new elements. Hes building on the old memories, he's improving himself, pushing himself.

So he starts piling the bodies in different ways: hanging upside-down in a closet, shoved onto a shelve and laid on the bed below his sister's gravestone. Now he waits for his next victim. Laurie comes, but this time she manages to fight back. There are two schools of thought now: was Laurie his final girl, or was she meant to be another victim? Was his plan supposed to end with Laurie, or was she simply going to be another body? Based on what we see, he wanted to fill that room, and likely the house, with bodies. Clearly, he had planned what he was going to do for a long time. In his head, as he sat at Smiths Grove, he thought specifically: I'm going to take Judith's gravestone and surround it with more bodies. Either that, or this is all just on a whim, but I don't buy that. He escaped for a reason, on the anniversary of her death. He knew what he was going to do all along.

I don't think Laurie was all that important to Michael's plan. If he had successfully killed her too, he'd have continued to just find more and more bodies until he couldn't anymore, setting the house he was in as a giant mousetrap for the people of Haddonfield to fall into. But he couldn't because Laurie kept attacking him and he kept falling.

Now let's look at Michael's invincibility and supposed supernatural abilities. She stabs him in the neck with a sewing needle and he falls to the ground. It takes a while for him to get back up, but a wound like that likely wouldn't kill straight away. Sure, it would incapacitate, but we've learnt that Michael can be very "inhumanly patient" when he wants to be, what with his time at Smiths Grove as an example. He gets up and continues - does he feel pain here? Did it affect him at all? The fact he was down for a while implies, at least to me, that Laurie did manage to strike a fatal blow with that needle, otherwise Myers would get up straight away. Either that, or he didn't feel it, and simply allowed her to get away a bit to continue the chase. We've already established how much Michael enjoys the chase and the stalk, so of course he's going to give her that edge again. Then she stabs him in the eye with a coathanger and then in the chest with his own kitchen knife. Fatal blow. He falls. She gets the kids out of the house, and then he... gets up again. What was he experiencing? What was he thinking? He does think, because he isn't an empty vessel, so what was he thinking? Was he confused that he wasn't dying, or was his single desire to kill so overwhelming that he was able to override everything and continue? Either way, he goes for one last attack, where she demasks him. Here, we see that his eye is messed up. So his body does respond normally to physical stimuli - his eye was stabbed so the eyelid curls up. He bleeds. He's definitely human.

Then he's shot six times, falls out of the window and gets up again. This is the moment that a normal human being couldn't survive, so how did he? He must've been baffled! But anyway, through all this, we have to imagine the same scenes playing out not with the globally-recognised Michael Myers horror icon, but with the man behind the mask. He's a weird 21 year old guy who killed his sister when he was six and now he's back. He does weird shit. He's curious about kills and amused at the ways he does them. He stalks and watches. He used his sister's gravestone in his new rituals. He's just a young guy who really fucking likes killing. I don't want to explain why - it wasn't druids, but it might be that he's a pure incarnation of evil. But even if he is, he isn't just a shape. He clearly has a personality, and enjoys the way he stalks, and understands humans and how to get under their skin. If we imagine the same film but without the mask, it's a different picture. He's just a complete fucking weirdo, and somehow, his pure desire to kill grew so overwhelming that it broke reality and transcended life and death, and allowed him to become something more - his giver of death allowed him to escape it himself. This is Michael Myers. Haddonfield weirdo.

Now, I don't want to denounce the concept of evil here. I don't want to portray the concept of evil as being bound to the supernatural - it's often described Myers is the incarnate of pure evil and therefore he is a force of nature and unstoppable/unkillable - not human. There are many cases in real life of men who are truly evil - or at least commit heinous acts in the same vein Myers does - and this is the real world, where there is no supernatural. His ability to withstand stabbings and gunshots is not related to that, and is, to me, the ambiguity and amalgamation of the character of Michael Myers: all of Michael's personality traits are the perfect bedding for pure evil in a supernatural sense, but this doesn't negate Michael from being a human being who has lived 21 years and has his own personality, thoughts and internal lexicon. There is a precise logic and rhythym to Michael, and that's precisely because of the way he's portrayed: hes curious, playful, intelligent, agile, sadistic and childlike. He's inventive and creative and driven. He's Michael fucking Myers!

#Halloween 1978 #Halloween #Michael Myers #Halloween Movies

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ollie-ask-and-roleplay · 5 years

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Everything you need to know:

Looks defined: Silver hair. Blue eyes. About 5'6" tall, weighs around 130 pounds. Natural hair length is just past the ears, they have hair extensions that can make hair shoulder blade length. Has strap on breasts.

Their name:

Oliver Emanuele (Usually goes by Ollie)

Age: 22

A little about them:

Ollie is bigender (identifies as both a boy and girl), they are biologically male. They have a stutter due to severe, constant anxiety. Definitely the mom friend in a group. 100% human unless somehow changed in the future. Most of the time they are kind and shy, although this is the first muse that has seen the NSFW side of roleplay. They are confident and dominant when in "the mood" ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Haha (I like to think that they are secretly very kinky; but that's yet to be explored)

Has a history of self-harm, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, depression, and crippling anxiety. They are currently working on controlling themself better and improve mental health.

Likes: Making food for other people, helping others, quiet places, windchimes, baking, hoodies, zen gardens, low intensity yoga, etc.

Dislikes: Small spaces, themself (🙁), nuns, large groups of people, spicy foods, etc.

(Likes and Dislikes are to be updated)

Anyways! Ollie often carries fresh cookies with them, don't question it.

Usual Attire: When feeling more male they usually wear a large hoodie with whatever pants they have around. When female it's always different. (Just assume there is a skirt or dress)

Pronouns: Ollie uses They/Them to avoid confusion.

Background Knowledge: (warning: story about parents first) Ollie was born into a very "normal" family. A mother and a father that were happily married and went to a Christian church every Sunday. It was the happiest day in their lives when their first and only child was born with the birth name, ''Oliver". The mother's name was Elaine, she had lovely deep brown hair and bright, piercing blue eyes. The father was Samuel, with blonde hair like sand and blue eyes like the day's clear sky. They were highschool sweethearts. Unfortunately, it was Samuel's brother who had silver hair, received from their father above them. Of course, it could have been a gene that simply skipped Samuel, but he was certain.

Elaine was over-joyed and had hope that they could continue their lives as a happy family. After all, what her husband didn't know couldn't hurt him, right? Oliver was a happy healthy baby, that they both adored almost to the point of worship. Samuel kept quiet for the first month, acting as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. One night, after they had gotten Oliver to sleep, he confronted her.

"Elaine..." He said, the look on his face so morose it could bring someone to tears. "That isn't my son, is it?"

And like that, Elaine's fragile hopes cracked to reveal the ugly truth. She had to face what she'd done. She touched Samuel's face as both their tears started to fall, his of bitter pain and her of regret. She gazed into his eyes knowing this would be the last time they would look at her without hatred.

"... No, not biologically. Ol-Oliver was conceived b-by... your brother and myself." She could no longer look at him and her voice was no more, for sobs had started shaking her body to the core. Her hand fell from his face as she moved to cradle her own body.

Samuel had known. He let his tears fall and left his wife to cry alone. He went into the nursery where baby Oliver was sleeping peacefully, unaware of anything that had happened.

Samuel kissed Oliver's forehead and whispered, "I'm sorry, my son. They wronged us both. I'll be sure they pay for it..." Samuel stood there for a few more moments, tears dropping into Oliver's crib.

The events that followed that night were not what anyone had planned for.

Samuel left his home with his wedding ring on the counter. He drove to his brother's home and didn't bother knocking. He broke a window with a brick laying outside and climbed in, knowing exactly where to go. Samuel stood beside his brother's bed with a brick in hand. He stood there, his rage boiling just beneath the surface of his stoic face. The rage of a man whose family had been stolen from him. Then, as the unsuspecting man was started to wake, Samuel hit his brother once over the head with the brick. Twice. Three times. Samuel did not kill his brother that night, but he did cause brain bleeding which which lead to death several days later.

Samuel got back into his car and started driving back to his home to gather his belongings. He planned to get a small apartment in town and fight for custody of Oliver. However a semi-truck had other plans. Samuel died in a "crash", his small car practically obliterated.

The only reason Elaine had to live was Oliver now. Unfortunately Elaine had always been selfish and her child wasn't enough for her. After attending her Husband and her child's father's duel funeral, she grabbed Oliver in his little mourning tux and left them on the porch of a nearby orphanage. Little Ollie had only the clothes on their back, a letter detailing who they were, a roughed up stuffed bunny, and a chain-necklace around his neck with Samuel and Elaine's wedding rings. Elaine knocked on the door and ran as fast as she could. She committed suicide later that day.

(Okay, parent story end)

Ollie grew up in that orphanage. It was a religious orphanage run by nuns. Ollie wasn't bullied at first, but was often ignored. They were small and quiet and did everything they were told, so the nuns decided they didn't need any extra attention besides "Have you eaten?" and "It's bedtime now".

They played with their bunny until the arm ripped off, at age 5, which triggered his first fit since he was an infant. The nuns quickly sewed their bunny together again, not used to the quiet one being so upset.

At age 8, a boy named Johnny on the playground at school decided to start picking on Ollie because they were an easy target. Ollie started coming back from school with scrapes on their knees from running away and falling. Plus bruises from Johnny and his group when they caught up.

At age 10, Ollie got caught playing with one of the older girls' makeup and dresses for the first time. The nuns were called quickly. Oliver got punished with 10 spanks for getting into another's property and 10 more for "inappropriate behavior". Ollie didn't understand why wanting to be pretty was wrong.

At age 12, puberty had started and something was really bothering Oliver. Some days they didn't feel right in their own skin and other days they were perfectly fine. Oliver was in middle school now, which meant everyone around them were becoming couples for a week or less at a time, and being very curious with themselves. One day, Oliver was listening in on some 8th graders and words of "sexuality" and "gender identity" were getting thrown around. They got curious. "Am I different?"

At age 13, they started seriously researching gender identities on the public library's computer. They were in awe that there were words to describe how they were feeling. They decided they identified with two genders, male and female. Ollie decided to start going by "Ollie" instead of "Oliver".

At age 14, Ollie got up the courage to ask a nun for a dress, and "maybe a lip gloss". The nun was outraged and gave him 10 spanks in front of all the orphan children at dinner time. The nun "made an example" of them and let all the kids know that the orphanage would never spend money on something a child does not need. Especially when the child wanted something that would "make them a disgusting fag". Ollie started getting picked on not just from the kids at the school, but from the kids in the orphanage too. So many slurs and hateful words were thrown towards Ollie that they started to internalize it.

At age 16, they were severely depressed and constantly on edge. The bullying didn't stop and had started getting more physical; ending up in the ER a couple times for stitches or broken bones. They had tried to kill them self multiple times at this point and always wore a baggy hoodie. The life was quickly draining from their eyes. A younger nun, who had only been with the orphanage for a few months decided it was enough. One evening the nun directly asked them, "Do you want to live?"

They replied, "Not here."

The young nun gave Ollie 2,000 dollars of her savings and told them to get as far as possible. They gratefully took the offer and was gone by dinner time the next day.

At age 18, Ollie had made a great life for themself. They lived with two other people to help pay rent of an apartment. They got a girlfriend. They work at a nice Subway job and graduated high school as the Salutatorian of their class. They were fairly accepted as a bigender person both at home, and in school.

At age 20, they broke up with their longest relationship of 3 years. Ollie sunk back into a deep depression and what little progress they made was thrown out the window. Ollie barely managed to keep their job, calling in "sick" too many times. Ollie worried their roommates by spending most of their time in their room alone.

At age 22, things have settled down. Ollie is over the breakup but the depression still lingered. They are trying to heal. They now go to college to get a culinary degree and hope to get their own bakery or restaurant one day.

Thanks for reading Ollie's Story!

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incorrectdeceptionquotes · 6 years

Text

A Coffee Connection Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Day One, one week before the wedding.

“So what’s your family like?” Cameron asked sipping his coffee.

Kay made a face, “They’re... nice. They’re just not... like me. Not that it’s a bad thing but I’m usually the odd one out. I don’t have much to say to them” Cameron gave her a look but she didn’t notice as she kept her eyes on the road, “Well, I do get along with my grandmother.”

“Your grandmother?”

Kay smiled, “Yeah, my Nana. She’s a really sweet woman. I think you’ll like her.”

Cameron smiled at his partner, “If she’s anything like you, I’m sure I will.”

Kay blushed slightly at his comment. When they got to a red light, Kay looked over to him, “Just a fair warning, my family is kind of intrusive so might ask questions that might make you uncomfortable and they don’t mean to but-”

She was cut off by Cam taking her hand and gave her reassurance, “Kay, don’t worry.” They both smiled at each other, “Also... green light.” Kay chuckled as she drove. They sat in comfortable silence until they reached the hotel that her family was staying. The sun was already setting, Kay was glad, she had planned it that way. Once they were parked, “You know, your family is probably gonna give us a room with one bed.”

Kay slammed her head on the top of the steering wheel, “Ugh, I didn’t even think of that!”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

Kay brought her head up and turned her head to him, “How?”

“Two words; pillow. Wall.”

Kay raised her eyebrow, “A pillow wall?”

“That’s what Johnny and I used to do.” They both laughed as they took off their seatbelts.

When they got out of the car, Cameron took the luggage out of the trunk and took both suitcases. Kay tried to take her own but Cam refused, “Come on Cam, I am more than capable of taking my own suitcase inside.”

“But what kind of gentleman would your family take me for if I didn’t assist my beautiful lady with her bags?” He joked.

Kay rolled her eyes, “You’re really gonna enjoy this, aren’t you?” Placing her hands on her hips.

“You have no idea.”

They both laughed as they made their way into the hotel. When they got their room key, they headed for the elevator when a shriek came from the garden entrance, “OH MY GOD! Kay Daniels!?” Kay turned around and saw an ecstatic pregnant blond wearing a pink sundress run over to her and give her a big hug, “Oh my god, it has been forever!”

Kay gave a quick hug to the blond and pulled back, “Stephanie... it’s been years.”

Stephanie smiled, “I know right? So how have you been? How the big FBI job going?” She then noticed Cameron and raised an eyebrow, “And who are you?”

Cameron waved, “I’m Cam. Kay’s plus-one?”

Stephanie’s eyes widened, “Oh my god, you’re Cameron Black!” She then turned back to Kay, “I told Tiff that it was you in those photos! She couldn’t believe it.”

“Told you.” Cameron whispered to Kay.

Kay rolled her eyes, “Anyways. Cameron, this is Stephanie, Maid of Honour and Tiffany’s best friend since high school.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Stephanie smiled at Kay, “It’s great to see you here Kay. I heard you haven’t been to many reunions lately. Have your folks meant Cameron yet?”

Kay gave a polite smile, “Uh, no.”

Stephanie raised her eyebrows, “Oh. Well then I wish you good luck Cameron. They don’t approve of just anyone. I’ll see you guys later.” With that Stephanie walked away.

“Well, that was interesting.” Cameron said as they entered the elevator. He then gave Kay a grin, “So you haven’t told your parents we’re dating?” Cam put his hand on his heart in fake pain, “You hurt me Kay, oh so deeply.”

“In my defense, I didn’t know until a few days ago.” Cameron laughed at her response.

Once they had gotten to their room, the first thing they noticed was the bed. Cam was right, there was a single king sized bed in the room. They decided they would worry about the later. Kay said that she would change in the bathroom so Cam could change in the room. Cameron changed his white shirt to that blue button-up that both Dina and Kay hand insisted upon. After the semi-long drive, he was feeling refreshed to have changed. He didn’t feel the need to change his pants though; they were just pants after all. Although, he was debating if he should wear a tie with his shirt or not. Kay came out of the bathroom having changed from the long sleeved maroon shirt and navy pants to a light green blouse and a pair of jeans.

Cameron couldn’t help but smile. Kay smiled back but looked confused, “What?”

Cameron shook his head, “Nothing. Hey, quick question” He pulled out a tie from behind his back, “Should I wear this tie?”

Kay rolled her eyes at his antics, “No, you don’t have to wear the tie today. Things probably won’t get too formal until the rehearsal dinner.”

Cameron put the tie down on the bed and held out his arm, Kay raised her eyebrow, “Well, this way, it’ll be convincing.”

Kay took his arm as they went out the door, “I’m starting to think that this was a bad idea.”

Cameron smirked, “Okay, that time I was really offended.” Kay laughed as they head down the hallway and to the lobby. “So where exactly is this family reunion?”

“Probably in the hotel gardens with gaudy statues, harsh colourful lighting, and a whole bunch of food that we wouldn’t eat otherwise.”

Cam smiled at her comment, “You know, if you want, we could just go back to the room, order room service and watch mindless television.”

Kay smiled back at him, “Seriously, don’t tempt me.”

“So you aren’t excited to see your parents, are you?”

Kay took a deep breath, “Definitely not.” They then walked out to the gardens and sure enough it was just as Kay described it along with light music and a whole lot of people. “Okay, just act natural.”

Cam furrowed his eyebrows, “I thought I was.”

“I was talking to myself.”

“Kay?” A male voice called out, “Is that really you?” Kay and Cameron turned to see a man with blond hair smile at Kay.

“Oh god.”

Cameron let out a chuckle, “Whose that? Ex-boyfriend?”

“Worse.” Kay whispered as the man walked up to him.

“Well, well, Kay Daniels.” The man smirked.

“Pierson. It’s been a while.”

Pierson raised an eyebrow, “It has. You’ve grown up... well.”

Cameron raised his eyebrows, he didn’t like this guy but maintained his composure. He stuck out his hand, “Hi, Cameron Black.”

Pierson shook his hand, “Who?”

“Kay’s date.”

“Kay’s date, huh?” He let go of his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“Same.”

“Cam, Pierson is Stephanie’s brother. He is also one of the groomsmen.” Kay explained.

“Well, I’ll be off to mingle. I’ll see you around Kay” He winked as he walked off.

Cameron turned to Kay, “I’m sorry but I do not like that guy.”

Kay looked back at him, “You and me both.” Cameron raised his eyebrows at that remark as they found a bench and sat down, “The man tormented me growing up.”

“You grew up together?”

“Well, sort of, our families are close. Tiffany and Stephanie were best friends and Pierce was a year older than me.”

“So I’m guessing you also went to the same schools.”

“Yup, he would not leave me alone.”

“I can’t imagine anyone doing that to you.” Kay looked at him quizzically, he smiled, “You’re such a badass.” He said taking her hand.

Kay laughed at his comment, “I guess but I certainly wasn’t in high school.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Back then, I was a bit of a nerd.”

Cam’s eyes sparked with interest, “Were you?”

“Oh yes, glasses, braces, had a thing for Lord of the Rings, the whole shebang. Guess the only thing I had going for me then was that I was athletic.”

“Oh yeah because I’m sure that glasses and braces would have hidden your beauty” He smirked.

“Hey, if you went to high school with me-”

“I would have wanted to hang out with you.” Kay rolled her eyes, “I’m serious, and we would have had a lot of fun.”

Kay squeezed his hand and smirked, “I can only imagine what you were like a teenager.”

“Same as I am now. Handsome, smart, too good to be true really.”

Kay tilted her head to the side, “Well, I wouldn’t agree with that last one.”

Cameron tilted his head to the opposite side, “But you agree that I’m handsome and smart?”

“Well, I didn’t say that...”

“But you didn’t not say it either...”

Kay smiled as she looked into his steel blue eyes, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, sometimes... the greatest things in life don’t make sense” He replied staring back into her dark brown eyes.

The two of them just sat there, looking at each other and sitting in a comfortable silence despite all the music and talking going on around them. There was a certain warmth that they were both feeling. Cameron didn’t realize it at first but he started to lean in. Kay didn’t pull back, instead as he leaned in closer, her eyes began to shut. Just as their lips were about to touch, “Kay! You made it!” A voice called out causing them to almost jump away from each other as if they were two teenagers who were just found in a storage closet. It was Kay’s cousin Tiffany. She looked similar to Kay but in Cameron’s opinion, Kay was just a whole lot prettier. Kay stood up and gave her cousin a quick hug, “I’m so glad you came.”

Kay smiled at her younger cousin, “I’m glad I could be here for your big day.”

Tiffany then saw Cameron, “This must be your plus-one.”

Cameron stood up and greeted her, “Yeah, I’m Cameron Black. It’s nice to meet you Tiffany.”

“Oh my god, you are Cameron Black. It is nice to meet you too.” She then looked to Kay, “So, it was you in those photos Kay. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Uh, well... actually...” Kay had prepared for questions like ‘How did you meet?’ or ‘What do you like best about him?’ but there were some that she just didn’t have answers for.

Cameron then intertwined his hand with hers, “We’ve been keeping it a secret. We wanted to make sure that things would work well between us before going public about it.” Kay silently thanked him for his quick thinking.

“Ooh, a secret romance! That sounds adorable!” Tiffany said taking a sip of her drink, “Oh, by the way, how’s the dress? Does it fit? Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It certainly is something. It fits just fine.” Kay said.

“Oh thank goodness! I had to get Stephanie’s dress resized because of the pregnancy and I was hoping that I had gotten the right size made for you.”

“So, where are the other bridesmaids?”

“Oh, well, Cousin Hillary is coming in the morning, and my girlfriends from collage are coming in two days.”

“Oh, so all the wedding stuff isn’t really happening until they get here then.”

Tiffany nodded, “Yeah, until Octavia, Brooke, Mimi and Morgan get here, it’s more family reunion central here.” She took another sip of her drink. “Oh, by the way, Nana’s over by the fountain if you wanna say hi.”

“Are... my parents here yet?”

Tiffany shook her head, “Don’t worry, they aren’t coming for three days.”

“Good. Thanks Tiffany. It’ll give me a chance to prepare.”

Cameron took note of that comment, he had to ask Kay about the situation with her parents later. Kay squeezed his hand, reminding him that they were still holding hands and said good night to her cousin. “Are you gonna introduce me to your grandmother?”

“If she’s still up.” Kay and Cameron walked over to find an elderly woman with white hair tied into a stylish bun with fake flowers in it walking around the fountain. She bore resemblance to Kay, with a few different features like her nose, she was shorter than Kay and her skin was slightly darker. “Nana?” Kay called out, letting go of Cam’s hand, them both trying to ignore the cold they felt when their hands parted.

The older woman looked up at Kay and smiled, “Is that my little lady?”

Kay gave her grandmother a hug, “Well, I’m not so little anymore, I told you that last time too.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re always gonna be my little lady.” Her eyes then landed on Cameron, “Who is this young man?”

“This is Cameron Black, he’s... a friend of mine.”

“Oh, you’re that magician fellow Kay told me about.”

Cameron politely stuck out his hand, “It’s great to meet you.”

She waved his hand off and opened up her arms, “Forget that nonsense, any friend of Kay’s is a friend of mine, get in here.” Cam and Grandma Daniels hugged as Kay smiled at her grandmother’s antics, “You’ve picked a good one Kay” She said as she went to sit down, “And he’s handsome to boot.”

“Oh, I like her.” Cameron said as he smiled at Kay. Kay’s favourite family member liked him. That was good. They spent the rest of that evening talking with Kay’s grandmother and occasionally with some of her other relatives as they passed by to say hello. The time was soon nearing midnight and everyone made their ways back to their hotel rooms. When Cameron and Kay went back to their room, they were completely silent. Cameron used the washroom to brush his teeth and change into his dark blue nightshirt and matching pajama pants. Kay then went to the same and changed into a dark purple nightshirt with matching pants. When she came back out, Cameron was already sitting up in bed, having made the pillow wall, and was fiddling with his cards, “Your grandmother seems really nice.”

Kay smiled, “Yeah, she is.” She then raised an eyebrow, “You actually built the pillow wall?”

He smirked and looked at her as she got into bed, “You had a better idea?”

“No. Not really.” She said as she adjusted the blanket.

Cameron put his cards down on the nightstand next to him and turned to his side to look at Kay, “Your family seems really nice but I have to ask. Is Kay your full name?”

Kay thought for a moment, “Why do you ask?” Asking as she turned to her side to face him.

“I mean, you’ve got family members named Tiffany and Hillary, I can only assume that Kay is short for something.”

“It is...”

Cam’s eyes sparked with interest again, “What? Tell me.”

Kay smirked, “No.”

Cameron pouted, “Come on, I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“It won’t even matter, everyone calls me Kay.”

“Fine, then I’ll just have to guess...” He lay down and placed his head on his pillow, still looking at her, “Is it Kassandra? Kamala? Kassidy?”

Kay lay down and rested her head on her pillow, still looking at him as well, “I’m not telling you Cam.”

Cameron grinned playfully, “Kalyssa? Kayla?”

Kay rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time, “Good night Cameron.”

“Oh, I know! Kalemari!”

Kay took one of the pillows and hit him in the face with it, “Now you’re just saying words.”

“I will figure it out Kay.” He said.

Kay turned to the other side so she was facing the wall and she closed her eyes, “Good night Cameron.”

Cam sighed, “Good night Kay.” He didn’t turn to the other side, he simply had this pure smile on his face as he closed his eyes.

“Hey Cam?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming with me.”

“Of course. Anything for you Kay.” Cameron said as he drifted off to sleep. Kay tried not to think too much about what he just said as she too let sleep take over.

Alright! So Day One of the wedding week is officially over. Yes, the chapters will more of less be this long from now one because I’ll be covering full days so there will probably be about 7-9 more chapters in this story and I’ll try to update sooner but between this story, ‘A Bundle of Secrets’, ‘Cursed’ and the one-shots, so I kinda got my plate full. You guys understand right?

Also if you found yourself yelling “Goddammit Tiffany!” at a certain point in this chapter... be prepared to have more of those reactions. Tiffany’s not a bad person! She just has bad timing.

Hope you guys enjoyed this and #renewDeception

#deception #deception fanfiction #deception abc #cameron black #kay daniels #kaymeron #savedeception #renewdeception

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samuraishield · 7 years

Text

Perfect Escape, Part 1

Summary : A girl and brother get sent back in time but there is a twist its not just the 1940′s.

Word count: 1,500

Author note: So it took me a while to get the courage to post this I started writing it a while back and then just kept putting it off I have to thank @marveliskindacool , @supersoldierslover as well as @bionic-buckyb who I sent this first chapter to in hopes they would like it. they gave me the courage to start posting again so I thank them and hope that you like it as well.

-M

She opened her eyes and reached for her head as she sat up with a pounding headache. She looked around at her surroundings, she was in some kind of alley that’s when she noticed the boy not to far from her, crawling over to the brunette she realized it was her brother. She started to shake him awake,

“Nick, Nick, Nicholas wake up, come on, wake up”

“Maria? What? What is going on?” he asks trying to sit up

“I don’t know. I just woke up myself based on my dress and the people that have walked by it's the 1930’s 1940’s but I don’t know check your pockets.”

“So we time traveled,”

“Maybe check your pockets”

He looks at his sister concern showing in his pure chocolate brown eyes but does as she asks, as he tried to figure out how she was so calm.

“Ok, so I have a ID with dates changed I was born in 1917 and a new address that I assume is ours,money, and a key”

“Ok it is the 30’s. Now we just have to figure out the actual date.I have the same stuff plus a journal and drawing\writing utensils some first aid things that includes an inhaler. Oh and hide your money it’s the 1930’s we are rich based off of what you have alone.”

“Ok yeah why don’t we go home” he says standing and helping her up.

Maria nods takes her brother’s offered arm as they walk out of the alley seeming to know where to go, the items she has get her thinking and leads her to ask her brother one important question as they come up on another alley.

“You can fight right?”

“Yes why do you ask?”

“A hunch because of the inhaler”

“Mari-”

“Lets just say I think we did more than time traveled.”

Before Nick can respond they hear yelling and come across two boy fighting one and one on the ground looks like he already got beat up. Nick lets go of his sister and joins the one still standing.

“Two against one that’s unfair lets even the odds” Nick says

The brunette looks over at Maria with his piercing blue eyes and nods to Nick, as the fight starts Maria runs over to the blue eyed blond on the ground fishing the Inhaler out of her bag and giving it to him then got to work on his wounds from the first aid stuff she had; As she finishes up the fight ends.

“Thanks for the help, Name is James Buchanan Barnes most call me Bucky though.”

“It was no problem, I’m Nick Mastromarchi.”

“The one being patched up by your gal is my best friend Steve Rogers”

“She’s not my gal she’s my baby sister.”

“Being 13 months younger does not make me a baby” Maria mutters getting up and helping Steve up.

“Thank you” Steve says

“Nice to meet you two, anyway why don’t we head back to the apartment I don’t have enough first aid stuff to patch up all your wounds and Nick you have a head wound.”

“Yes Ma’am” they all say- Nick laughing a little.

The all leave the alley down two more blocks and up a flight of stairs before coming to an apartment at the end of the hall; Maria unlocks the door and heads right to the bathroom questioning to herself how she seems to know where everything was, but pushed the thought away as she patched he brother up them Bucky.

“Who started the fight?” She questions

“I don’t like bullies” Steve mutters.

“The puck is always starting fights he can’t finish.”

“And let me guess you are always pulling him out of fights?” She guesses

“You got it doll” He smirks as Nick clenches his jaw.

Maria shakes her auburn locks- noticing they were curled- and puts the first aid kit away before heading to the kitchen and seeing it fully stocked.

“You boys staying for dinner?” She asks seeing 6 on the clock.

“We don’t want to intrude ma’am” Steve calls back

“Drop the ma’am Steve and you aren’t intruding”

“We would love too” Bucky answers.

She smiles and starts to cook while she listens to her brother try to explain why they were there and not give anything away.

“Nicholas just stick to our basic story and what won't sound weird but other than that our family can stay they same” She says in Italian

“Ok first how do I understand you, and how can I respond to you. Second why are we here?” He responds in Italian.

“I don’t know how about I wanted to learn more and explore so dad said I could move as long as you or Alex came with me.”

“What language is that?” Bucky wonders

“Italian our grandmother doesn’t speak English” she answers back in English

“Why are you two here?” Steve repeats hoping Maria can answer better.

“I wanted to move and learn as much as I could, Dad agreed as long as I brought Nick or our other brother Alex with me.”

“Well I’ll help you learn a lot” Bucky smiles at her.

“Watch it Barnes” Nick growls.

“Sorry Nick”

“Enough you two, Nick set the table,”

“We need to talk when they leave” Nick whispers to her

“And we will now set the table,”

He does as instructed, and Maria calls the other two to the table Dinner was filled with stories and laughter as well for Maria trying and failing not to to stare at Bucky. Afterwards Nick cleaned up and they talked more as the radio was on.

“Oh this song is wonderful” Maria smiles.

“Then how about a dance then?” Bucky asks

“I confess I do not know how to.”

“Nick never taught your sister?’

“Alex was taught but never us” Nick responds

“Your dad didn’t teach you?” Steve questions.

“Work kept him busy then the war injured him, he can’t dance any more it saddens mom she loved dancing.” Maria answers

“Well I could teach you both, you too Steve I’ll even ask Becca to join us.” Bucky decides.

“Becca?”

“My baby sister.”

“Oh she is probably wonderful”

“More like a little monster”

“Oh I bet she’s just a cookie”

“Anyway how about it? I’ll tech you to dance,”

“Sure when?” answers

“Tomorrow we can meet at the diner about two blocks from here midday and you’ll be ready to dance by night”

“I’m good with that, Nick?” Maria smiles

“I got nothing to do” Nick shrugs

“Why would you it’s a Saturday in the summer” Bucky replies

With a little bit more talking Bucky and Steve head out telling them goodnight and that they would see them tomorrow. After Maria closes the door on them she lets out a sigh and falls onto the couch her legs hanging over the arm. Nick looks at her concerned before speaking what is on his mind.

“Don’t get attached Mari,”

“Ha! Nicholas has it not clicked with you we are in the comic book universe that is James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers the Winter Solider and Captain America! I’m already attached!”

“I know I know I’m sorry it’s just-”

“You’re worried I get it, we don’t know how long we are going to be here, but while we are we minus well live.”

“Not even here a day and you find your favorite fictional character not to mention the one you absolutely love,” He chuckles.

“I’m still trying to figure out why you, why not Alex who knows more about this world? No offense”

“Non taken I was thinking the same thing.”

“Oh God Nick you could be drafted!”

“We will deal with that when it comes, it’s only June 21st 1938”

“Your birthday is tomorrow, you’ll be 21 James is already 21 and me and Steve will be 20.”

“Awe I regressed in age”

“Oh relax you can still drink and it’s only a few months, anyway let’s get to bed it’s going to be along day tomorrow”

Nick nods and pulls his sister up from the couch and they both head to bed after figuring out who’s room was who’s, and noting that there was an extra room with two beds. Nick falls asleep worried yet excited for what the future will bring for them while Maria falls asleep with a smile hoping this life was going to be better than the one she left behind in the future.

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funkymeihem-fiction · 7 years

Text

Chapter 10

She dreamed that the sun was coming up in the middle of the night, rising from the horizon and consuming the stars with its light, smothering them one by one. Its rays fell across her and she could feel its glow burning her from the inside. Hot. It was too hot. She thrashed slightly, trying to kick away the top of her sleeping bag, pushing at the heavy fabric, but found that she was quite unable to move. She felt pinned, like a vice had been fastened around her middle, and the more she moved the tighter it became. Snapping from her slumber with a little squeak of alarm, she blinked rapidly and tried to focus…finding both the source of the uncomfortable pressure and the heat that plagued her.

Junkrat was nestled against her side, curled almost in a fetal position with one arm locked around her sleeping bag and his head bowed, breath a muffled high-pitched little wheeze of a snore as he snuggled deeper into the fabric. She groaned, finally managing to slither one arm out of his grip, finding her glasses and shoving them on. Irritation turned to concern when she saw that he had apparently abandoned his bedroll completely and was sleeping on bare, cold sand. He was shivering, and without his maniac grin and twisted expressions…he looked almost pitiable, just a dirty and malnourished young man seeking any source of warmth and comfort he could find, even while dreaming.

He probably would have taken offense to her pity if he’d been awake, she knew. The junkers were not the type who liked to show weakness.

But he wasn’t awake.

She tried not to disturb him, and shifted slightly under his arm, still pinned in the wad of fabric as she spotted movement out of the corner of her eye. Roadhog was apparently up and about already, and Mei cleared her throat a little, lifting her voice to a loud whisper. “Roadhog! Mr. Hog! Uh…help?”

There was a rumbling breath, something she could have sworn was an exasperated sigh as the giant man trundled over. He was a bit more brusque about the matter than she, one gloved hand gripping his smaller partner’s arm, the other closing around Mei’s shoulder before he simply pulled the two apart. Junkrat’s arm was shoved downward and Mei was pulled up out of her sleeping bag like a spring daisy, popping free as he hauled her upright and set her down lightly. Jamison’s expression tightened and he made a strange little noise she couldn’t quite put her finger on, an almost angry whimper, before Roadhog simply wedged one foot under his middle and unceremoniously rolled him off the sand and on top of Mei’s bag. She watched this happen with wide eyes, completely expecting him to wake up and start swinging or swearing at them both, but he remained soundly asleep, curling back up with his face tucked into his arms. She took her coat and tried to drape it over his bare chest, but could only watch as his seeking fingers curled into the fabric and promptly pulled it right back off him, hugging the bundled fabric like a stuffed bear and burying his face into it once more.

She gave Roadhog a helpless look and gestured to the still-sleeping Junkrat with a baffled air, but the larger man simply shrugged his broad shoulders and turned away. She abandoned her coat in Junkrat’s death grip, moving over to his original bedroll and pulling off his patched and ragged blanket, wrinkling her nose at its state before turning and covering his skinny form. He muttered something obscene under his breath before stilling once more, and Mei left him to meander after his bodyguard.

She fell into step beside the much larger man. “Is that normal?”

“He does that.”

“To you too? Does he try to…what is the word…cuddle, you?”

“Mm. Nearly put his lights out the first time he did it. You get used to it. Not his fault how he is.” He leaned down to pick up the massive metal hook by his bike, attaching it to the length of chain and testing its heft before turning and abruptly starting to wander away from their campsite.

Mei glanced back at Jamison. “Where are you going? Shouldn’t we stay and watch him?”

“Breakfast. Proper breakfast. He’ll be fine. Come on.”

That gave her pause. Roadhog was inviting her somewhere? He had paid her little attention so far and she had not pressed the matter. But the elder junker was already turning the bend into the next gulch, and she finished pulling her boots on before hurrying after him. “Oh! Okay, wait for me!”

He still wasn’t the chatty type, and the two walked along in relative silence save for his labored breathing. There wasn’t much to see in the canyons, little but rocky red walls towering on both sides of them against the yellow-pink of the morning sky, the occasional trash or graffiti from campers before them, and the little scrubby shrubs growing in the relative comfort of the canyon’s provided shade. She kept hoping he might strike up some sort of conversation, but after nearly a half-hour of silence, she decided it was time she took the initiative.

“What did you mean earlier?”

“Hm?”

“You said it wasn’t his fault how he is. Was he not always like…how he is?”

Hog shrugged a massive shoulder. “I’ve only known him a few years, when he approached with his ‘business deal’. Outback had taken a toll on him by then. He might have been different before. It’s not his fault.” He leaned down, throwing down one knee as his dirty fingertips inspected the ground, snorting before changing direction and heading further into a nearby gully.

She dutifully followed after him, arms folded behind her as she trailed him. “The radiation?”

“The omnium blew when he was just a child. It got into his head when he was still young. Still not sure how he survived, his stories always change. I don’t think he remembers.”

“I remember seeing the news about it when I was younger. They said terrorists had blown the reactor core. It was so terrible, I still remember feeling so helpless when they were showing all those awful pictures. Wo de tian na, all those poor people…”

Roadhog was quiet for a very long time, still trudging steadily ahead before answering, “Yeah…”

He turned and approached a divot in the sandy gulch bottom, gesturing her forward as he knelt down. Mei watched as he examined the greenish-yellow shrub before lifting its branches up to reveal the small magenta berries beneath. “Ruby saltbush… looks ripe enough. Take these.”

“Oh…We’re foraging! That’s what we’re doing!” Mei snapped her fingers before kneeling down next to him, starting to pluck the berries from their stems.

“What did you think we were doing?”

“I thought…I don’t know, maybe you wanted to talk to me?” She trailed off lamely, pretending to be suddenly very interested in the saltbush. “But, that’s okay. It might not be weather-related, but it’s interesting to see how people survive in the outback.”

“Your MREs taste like shit. And I’ve eaten a lot of bad things in my time.”

“Well..I.. I didn’t choose them! Jamison and I even asked for the better quality stuff, but this was considered a non-essential mission so they gave us the cheap ones. But I ordered extra just in case so we wouldn’t go hungry, plus we don’t- Where are you going now?”

“Rock fig, pick that one next.” He grunted in reply, pointing to another nearby plant as he strode forward once more. “And I did want to talk to you.”

“Oh?” She paused to examine the plant, what he had called a rock fig, a hardy-looking scrub growing straight out of the rockface, dotted with tiny orange and brown fruits. Waiting for his reply, she got to picking, tucking them into the makeshift basket in the fabric of her shirt.

“Are you flirting with Fawkes just so he’ll help with your mission. Or just because he's around.”

Mei froze, one hand halfway out to pick another berry. A very pregnant silence hung in the air before finally her head swiveled to look his way. Her jaw tightened, lips moving as she tried to find words, her voice finally cracking through with uncharacteristic hostility. “H-how! How could you say that!”

Roadhog seemed unphased as ever, the white lenses of his mask unflinching. “Doing my job.”

She sputtered with righteous indignation, counting to ten before she even attempted an answer. “I’m t-trying to understand your…concern. B-but I would never do something like that and I don’t appreciate the insinuation. This operation is important to me, but I would never do that to any of my teammates. Especially him!” She was on the verge of tears despite doing her best to be calm. Confrontation was not one of her strong suits, especially when she couldn’t ice-block her way out of it. “I know he’s not…He’s not like most people. But he’s himself, and he can be really nice, and he’s smart! And also strangely more sensitive than I had thought! And I would never, ever-”

He held up one gigantic hand. “Just checking.”

She gestured a palm to him in disbelief. “Just checking? I do not appreciate being accused of something like that.”

“Don’t want to deal with the fallout once we go back to base if you start pretending not to know him again. I think we’ve both been exposed to enough fallout. And I don’t like complications.”

She started to answer when he paused and grasped his hook, stomping one huge metal-spiked boot into the ground and he grunted and heaved, the heavy metal weapon spinning through the air. There was a screeching noise from further up the rocky valley, which turned into a wet gurgle. A moment later he began pulling on the chain, winding it back as he reeled in a large black and gray lizard, smearing blood on the sand where the hook had pierced its sternum.

She stared at the still-twitching body, argument caught in her throat before she swallowed it down and whispered, “W-was that just a threat?”

He looked down at her, calmly going to pry the carcass off his hook before wiping it on the ground. “No. This is a meal. It has nothing to do with my question. I don’t bother with threats.”

She tried to calm herself, placing a hand to her chest. She had to give him that one. The old junker was normally the silent type, and while Junkrat was the sort to spit extremely creative threats and descriptions of bodily harm at his foes, she’d never heard the bodyguard do the same. True, he would bellow and laugh after a particularly gruesome kill, but he was always very…straight-forward, as far as his rampages went.

“Well I…I also wouldn’t do something like that either. That would just be cruel. But we’re not…you know, I mean, we haven’t…Er…” She stared down blankly at the assortment of berries in her shirt. “I don’t know what it is. But I’m not some…liáng xīn bèi gŏu chī le. I am not going to hurt him. And I hope he won’t do the same.”

“All right.”

“…All right? That’s it?”

“Mm.” He finished tying the dead goanna to the side of his belt before trundling off again. “Just wanted an answer. Come up here, there’s another saltbush. I’ll show you how to prepare them so you won’t get the runs.”

She gave him a look that was half reproach and half confusion. “Er…okay. Thanks? And I hope we’re both on the same page now? Everything is good, right?”

“Mm. For now.”

They returned to their campsite later on in the morning, after the sky had long since turned from the yellow of morning to the brilliant blue of day. Junkrat had already awakened and was sitting on his blanket tinkering with his grenade launcher, Mei’s coat tied loosely around his shoulders. He had just finished applying a new coat of yellow paint and several new smiley-faces to the gun when he spotted his teammates arriving. “Oi! Where’d you two get off to!”

She held up one of the berries from her collection. “We decided to let you sleep in. Mr. Roadhog was teaching me about outback foraging. There should still be time for a late breakfast if you’re interested…”

“Foraging? Didja get anything good? Heh, that Roadie can be a fuckin’ chatterbox if you let ‘im, eh? What’d you talk about, Roadie?”

Roadhog grunted.

Jamison swung upright, loping over in his uneven gait to greet Mei instead, slithering behind her and wrapping his lanky arms around her neck as he inspected the mess of fruits in her shirt. “Bush tucker berries? Lemme tell ya, those things make for some shitty smoothies. I’ve tried. Er…Also, think I might’ve stolen your bag at some point, woke up in there. And then I think I stole your coat. I mighta stolen some other things too, I forget.”

“Oh. It’s fine. I was a little cold this morning is all, so I asked if you’d move nearby. You were so sleepy you probably don’t remember.” She offered him a half-smile, hoping her little white lie would spare an awkward conversation about his sleep-cuddling. They could deal with that later. “How are you feeling?”

“Better after a good night’s rest! And would feel real good if, ya know, maybe a lil’…” He pursed his lips and made a few exaggerated kissing sounds as he started to lean down towards her face.

“Nice try,” she smirked, reaching up with her free hand to take his chin and guide his lips to land on her cheek instead.

“Aw, Mei! Shoot a bloke right through the heart, why don’t ya.”

“I have a feeling you’ll live. Besides, Mr. Roadhog has something for you to do.”

Roadhog rumbled from behind them. “Cook this.”

“Huh?” He barely had time to turn about before the dead goanna was hurtling through the air, smacking him in the face as he fell backwards. “AUGH!”

He landed in a tangle of gangly limbs, peeling the lizard off him as his usual grin spread across his face. Holding it up by the tail, he dangled it in front of Mei. “See! Roadie’s got the idea of it! This here’s a proper breakfast! You sure you don’t want? I’ll save you the best paaaarts.” He jiggled the dead animal back and forth temptingly.

She gave him an unimpressed look. “Vegetarian. Wǒ bu chī ròu. No thank you.”

He had already found a knife and before she could even protest, he proceeded to lean down and slit the slain goanna straight up the middle, digging a hand inside the red wet pulp inside and holding up a palm full of small white eggs in his stained palm, thrusting them under her nose. “You sure? Look, it was a lady sort, comes with some prime outback caviar!”

Mei turned a shade greener than usual, shaking her head quickly and clapping a hand over her mouth. “Would you mind doing that behind the van?”

He looked at her blankly for a moment before her reaction seemed to hit home, nodding furiously. “Oh! Oh, roight, the veggie thing! Suppose I shouldn’t be smearing this dead animal all upside your face and whatnot!”

“Thank you.”

Junkrat was practically doing a jig as he went to finish his butchery. She sat down with Roadhog instead, who had approached her with a bowl of water. He lowered his immense weight to thud down next to her, and helped her along as they sorted the assortments of berries. He spoke little, occasionally muttering a correction or a new instruction as he showed her how to tell the ripe apart from the unripe, throw away the ones with the black spots, and how to carefully peel the bitter outer layers from the tiny desert fig berries. It was almost a pleasant task, mindlessly peeling and washing the stacks of forage fruit.

She couldn’t help but fret slightly, remembering his words from earlier. They still burned. She hadn’t really thought ahead to any repurcussions from her and Jamison’s little kisses. Had Roadhog genuinely been concerned that she would ‘dump him’ as soon as the operation was over? Could you even dump someone if you weren’t together? Were they together? She couldn’t at all be sure that she and Jamison were working on the same terms of what kisses could mean or what a relationship was. Did she intend to continue things after they had returned to Gibraltar? She would have to explain to everyone what she was doing with a known agent of destruction and chaos. She’d have to deal with his strange mannerisms out in the real world. She’d have to be involved…Oh no, had Roadhog’s concerns been completely warranted?

The giant junker took notice as she stopped peeling. He tilted his masked head down at her slightly, noticing her stricken expression before simply grunting and lifting himself off the ground with some trouble. “Finish these. I’ll get the rest started.”

He took the camp stove with him, leaving Mei there on the blanket with nothing but the bowl, the berries, and her thoughts.

It had been a spur of the moment thing. They had been getting along better than usual, had become closer through strife and then physically closer when they had kissed. And she had been sincere when she spoke of his better qualities. He could be kind, he could be generous, and he was exceedingly smart. Smarter than she had first suspected when meeting him. But for all their little tête–à–tête around the campfire, things would change once they left Australia…once they returned to the real world and real society and real people. For all his good traits, he had more than his share of bad ones. He had a temper that could change on a dime, a forgetfulness that bordered on amnesia at times, an undeniable love of pyrotechnics and destruction, and a disregard for human life that she simply could not share. She would have to be involved every time he got himself into trouble, and she had neither the physical prowess nor the silent patience of Roadhog.

She shook her head slightly, trying to clear it as she blankly resumed peeling and washing their morning’s forage.

She knew the way he looked at her, but what if that was merely infatuation? Another one of his phases? For all she knew, he had fixated on and treated numerous other crushes the same way. Maybe he bothered them the way he bothered her. Like that time he had been worried about her and took half a kitchen’s worth of food with him to make sure she was eating all right? All those goofy little jokes he always threw at her in an attempt to get her to smile for him? Or making her her favorite flavor teas on the offchance she’d want to drink with him, or comforting her after her mistakes with the dog back in the valley breeze, or his promises that no matter what happened or what troubles they would face, he would be there with her no matter what?…

She glanced up as she heard his high-pitched giggles from behind the van, followed by Roadhog’s booming chuckle. They sounded happy.

She had told Roadhog that she was not a cruel person and had become more than a little indignant at the very thought of it, but he had been completely right to worry. She shouldn’t make promises she wasn’t sure she could keep. It was easy to forget that they were on official business for Overwatch, that once they left this sun-blasted desert, they would have to return to reality. Reality was where Junkrat performed poorly. Doubt was a reasonable thing to have. She was talking about a man whose idea of a good time was replacing Lucio’s birthday candles with little sticks of dynamite. Which had, in all honesty, been very amusing up until she had had to help clean it all up.

She would have to sit down with Jamison and talk to him. Really, really talk to him, about what had happened. Maybe about what shouldn’t have happened at all…

“Oi, Mei! You got any of that sanitizey stuff? That goanna was a real sticky one!” He rounded the corner, holding up his bloody hands, but paused when he saw the distressed posture and expression of the woman sitting with the berry bowl. “Mei…Hey, you okay? You’re looking right stonkered.”

She turned to him with her brows furrowed. “Jamison…I think we might need to talk.”

Literally anybody else would have had the social accumen to realize the heavy weight those words always carried. Junkrat was not anybody else. He blinked owlishly at her, then his grin returned as he turned and started wiping his red-soaked hands off on a nearby rag. “Oh, sure! Ya wanna talk, we can do it after brekkie.”

“Jamie…”

“Come on come on, Roadie’s waitin’ on ya. Best get on it and eat because trust me, he will go ahead and eat it without ya and you’ll have to eat them diarrhea-bag meals all by your lonesome.” He jabbed a stained thumb back behind him.

At a loss, Mei picked up her bowl full of figs and berries and followed him to their makeshift cooking area. She knew by now that the more observant Roadhog had probably guessed at her agitation, but he said nothing as he took the bowl from her, scattering the figs into a dented porridge pot he had set up over the little stove and nearly emptying an entire honeybear into it after.

Junkrat snorted. “Yeah, that’s nice and all, but you will also notice that I split that goanna from skull to clacker and we are finally having a proper barbecue!” He gestured grandly to the campfire, where the butchered lizard was roasting on a makeshift metal spit. “Now that’s brekkie! You two can have your figgy sludge.”

“I caught it, I get half the lizard too,” Roadhog answered flatly. “That’s brekkie.”

“Oi, rack off!”

Mei smiled despite herself as she watched the pair dissolve into another argument, calmly ladling the porridge meal into her bowl and taking a bite. The fresh figs were slightly gritty in texture, but their natural sweetness was a godsend after the cloying preservative tastes of their other options. She went back for seconds, and even a portion of thirds, whilst listening to the two junkers fight over the lizard. Roadhog eventually settled for the rest of the fig oatmeal and a smaller chunk of the lizard meat. Mei noticed that this time he didn’t turn away from them as he ate, simply lifting up his pig mask to reveal a wide rounded chin, peppered with white-gray beard hairs and severely burnt on one side, his chapped and scarred lips blindly reaching out for the spoonfuls of food he couldn’t really see. It was a little strange to see even that sliver of his real face, surprisingly so, as she had become so used to the expressionless pig mask that she sometimes forgot he was a real person underneath it.

Junkrat hunched over his own meal like a covetous vulture, tearing off steaming bits of flesh with his hands and shoving them into his jaws. It was all a bit primal for Mei’s liking, but at least he had stopped offering the slaughtered animal to her. She was more content with her fig and honey meal, followed by the salty-sweet ruby berries they had gathered earlier. She would have to write about their foraging adventure later, and take notes about this Australian method of survival.

In fact, she had almost forgotten about her notes altogether.

She set her bowl aside, moving to the back of the van and digging around. “Have either of you seen my phone?”

Junkrat looked up, his mouth full of lizard. “Hh?”

“My phone, where is it?”

“Oh, yeah! I forgot to tell ya! Your little robot thing and your phone started beepin’ a lot, and it got real annoying and I yelled at it to shut up, but it wouldn’t, but I knew you’d be pissed if I shut it up all the way, so I just threw them in that box there and put stuff on top so they’d be quiet!”

Mei paused, then resumed her search in earnest, literally throwing things out of the back of the van. “What!? When!”

“Oh, I dunno. Hours back. Woke me up, so I just put ‘em-”

“Oh no. Oh no no no no…” She could hear the beeping now, pulling off mounds of blankets, tarps, and other supplies from one of the larger boxes as the sound got louder and louder. A moment later as she tossed another blanket aside, Snowball immediately hovered out and circled around her, still shrilling an alert call. She grabbed onto it with one arm, as if trying to comfort the little bot as she flicked on her phone. The screen was flashing red and still beeping with the mandarin signals for WARNING scrolling past. She immediately opened it up and began reading through the backlogged messages. “Jamie! You should have told me earlier!”

“What, that your robot was being an annoying cunt and wakin’ people up?”

“Snowball was trying to warn us! Look, it’s more than just my assistant drone, Snowball has short range weather-reading capabilities too…it’s picked something up.” She adjusted her glasses, still scrolling through the messages.

Junkrat rocked back and forth uneasily as he watched Mei’s expression turn more and more alarmed. “Uh…I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

She threw her phone aside and hurried back towards the camp, waving her arms. “Roadhog! Get up, get up, get up, pack everything you can! We have to go NOW.”

#meihem #junkmei #junkrat #jamison fawkes #mei #mei-ling zhou #roadhog #mako rutledge #australia #outback #adventure #fanfiction

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tim-jones89-blog · 7 years

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Chapter 4

Sherman stood still watching his two sons sleep, tired from the night before. It was always a celebration when their Uncle Rick came in to town. Sherman was happy to have visitors, but dreaded alone time with his brother. He heard his floorboards creak behind him.

Shit. He turned around to see his brother sitting at the kitchen table.

“Do you want me to get breakfast started?” Dick put his face in his hands, still weary from the night before.

“No. I’ll do it.” Sherman began walking towards the kitchen.

“I really don’t mind Sher-“

“-I said I’ll do it Dickey.”

Saturday was Charlotte, Sherman’s wife’s, day off. It was a tradition in the Courson family that the men cook on Saturdays. Sherman went outside, checked the generator for gas and then moved back inside. Dick was already getting out dishes; some of the others on the floor began stirring.

“My brother Sherman. The last man on earth with chickens I swear,” Dick said opening the icebox.

“That’s what you told Mrs. Jackson in Waco,” said a voice slowly getting closer.

“Tracy Green. Mercy girl, it’s been ages,” said Sherman.

“Yeah she’s grown to be quite a woman hasn’t she Sherm. Look at those teeth,” said Dick.

Tracy sat down at the table. “Yeah your brother is always giving me shit about being a woman. He said someone might take advantage of me. I say let them try, if they can pin me then maybe I’ve found my one-and-only.”

“Now you know why she’s my number two brother.” Dick laughed and started cracking eggs into the skillet. “Sherm just sit the hell down. I’m cooking. You look a bit hung over anyway.”

“Fine.”

For a few minutes there was only the sound of eggs snapping against the black skillet. Dick moved to the fridge again and pulled out a steak and started searing it on the other pan. Smoke started filling the room.

“Dick, open the window,” said Sherm.

“Right.” Dick moved over to the window and opened everything

“Good to have someone in the family who still has cows, right Dickey?” Dick couldn’t hear Tracy. He just kept cooking.

“Not if the wolf population has anything to say about it,” said Sherman in response to Tracy’s statement.

“Yeah I saw those big fellas you and John David brought in. Oh and thanks for agreeing to give us two steers,” said Tracy.

“Did I have a choice?”

“Nope!” Dick said starting to laugh.

“Anything for the Ranger’s I guess.” Sherm got up and poured himself a glass of water.

Tracy looked up at Sherman, she grimaced a bit but worked up the courage to say what she wanted to say.

“You know that Samuel Pierce will be perfectly safe with us, right Sherm?”

Sherman put his cup down and didn’t look back at Tracy.

“We could use smart, talented kids like Samuel with us,” said Tracy. Sherman continued to say nothing.

“Sherman doesn’t want blood on his boys hands,” Dick said never looking up from the cutting the now medium cooked steak.

“We’ve spoken with Doc. He’s talented.” Tracy said, “he could make a difference.”

“I saw what y’all did to the Cajuns.” Sherman kept staring at his water glass.

“Y’all? I think you mean ‘we’ Sherman.” Dick said moving the cut up steak into the egg pan. “Things are different now Sherm, I let Tracy make most of the calls.”

“You can’t judge the Ranger’s for those early days Sherman. It was kill or be killed,” said Tracy.

“What in the hell do you know about it Tracy? You weren’t there.”

“I was there,” said Dick, “and number two there is right Sherm. Look around you brother. Your family, this farm, none of this would be here without what we did.”

“You don’t know that-“

“-I do know that Sherm! I know that as a damn fact!” Dick slammed the kitchen knife on the table.

“Don’t wake my kids, Dick.” Sherman was still staring at his glass.

“Unbelievable. I don’t take shit from anyone. Anyone! I come to visit my brother and I get nothing but shit.”

“I didn’t ask you to come here, Dick.”

“Oh I know that, believe you fucking me, I fucking know that.”

More feet started stirring towards the kitchen and the conversation had come to a halt.

Tracy grabbed Sherman’s hand across the table. “Come on Sherman. Your brother loves you. Can’t you see that? He and I have been in some close calls and I’ve never seen him as upset as he gets cooking breakfast at your house.”

Sherman looked up. “I’m sorry Dickey.”

Dick began to calm down a little bit. Sherman spoke up again.

“I am sorry Dickey, but-“

“-but what Sherm.”

“But, I cannot give you my blessing. I’ll always care about you brother, but I’ll never condone you and the Ranger’s behavior. Ever.”

“Well, I guess that’s that then.” Dick sat down at the table and began eating.

“Yeah. I guess so.” Sherman began eating too.

John David came staggering in the kitchen, behind him the rest of the Rangers and finally Samuel Pierce and Charlotte. John David rubbed his eyes. His skin looked pale and he’d looked like he’d been sweating.

“John David.” Sherman gave his son a grave look. “Don’t you dare think this gets you out of your chores today boy. Dug your own grave on this one.”

“Yes sir.”

“Relax Sherm. We’ll help you with the work today. Let the boy rest,” said Dick.

“How about you let me run my family and you run your killers.”

Before Dick could say anything Tracy chimed in, “Look Sherm, I think what Dickey was trying to say is that we’d be happy to help with the chores. With all of us you can get finished and the family can relax in the afternoon.”

“John David knows he’s not suppose to be drinking.” Sherman walked out of the room.

“Reminds me a lot of someone I knew at that age!” Dick shouted so that Sherman could hear. “Don’t worry kiddo. We’re going to help you.”

“Thanks Uncle Rick.” John David laid his head down on the table.

Charlotte finally had awoken fully. “I’m sorry Dickey. He loves seeing you. I think you just remind him of who he used to be…what he’s done.”

“Yeah, when he was strong and not so damn moody. I used to look up to him. Still do in many ways, but he needs to get his skin back.” Dick got up and started running the dirty dishes in the sink.

“I don’t think he ever had tough skin to begin with,” said John David.

“You don’t know shit boy,” said Dick.

“That’s not what I meant Uncle Rick. He told me yesterday that he hates killing.”

“Could have fooled me.” Dick began scrubbing the dishes even harder. “Are the rest of you folks finished? Get outside and get to work on the chores. We’ve got to leave in a few hours to make it to a station on time.”

John David, Samuel Peirce and the Ranger’s got up and made their way outside to join Sherman in the chores. Before long they were stacking hay in the back of their trucks and making their way to pasture. The younger ones were shoveling manure out of Smokey and Sissy’s stalls and onto an outside pile to be used for fertilizer later. Two of them started skinning the wolf pelts and began cutting what meat they had on them.

Dick kept scrubbing the kitchen pots.

“Thank you Dickey,” said Charlotte, “the boys love seeing you here. Not to mention getting the chores done, that’s always a plus too.”

“Well, Charlotte I love coming here and seeing everyone, but ole king buzz kill over there really ruins my week after seeing him.”

“I know you love your family and our people Dick, but even you have to admit, some of the things that you two have seen would be tough for anyone to live with.”

“That’s a delicate way to put it Charlotte.” Dick stopped scrubbing. “If I’m being completely honest Charlotte, I have no trouble living with myself. As a matter of fact, I long, no, I crave, for more action. This decade of nothing but running a few stray Cajun pirates away is beginning to wear on me.”

“Wait a minute,” Charolottes face grew solomn, “Cajuns?”

“Yeah. They come from New Orleans and try to infiltrate from Galveston. We’ve got Ranger’s down there and they don’t really need any help, but I go down there because I want to. We haven’t had a Mexican try to cross in awhile.”

“You’ve got to pray Dickey. Same thing you always preach on the Sunday radio. Trust in God. You’ll find the strength to lead.”

“Yeah. Well it shouldn’t be me that’s leading.”

“The fact that you are leading means it should be you leading.”

Dick drained the water and began putting the dishes in their place. He then sat across the table from Charlotte.

“Charlotte.”

“You want to talk about Samuel Pierce.”

“Yes.”

“That’s Sherman’s decision.”

“He’ll be old enough to decide for himself in two years.”

“Then you’ll get Sherm’s permission or you’ll wait two years.”

Dick slammed his fist on the table. “Damn it woman, you are just as stubborn as the jackass you married.”

“You need to listen to the sermon’s you preach my dear brother in law. You lead the tri-states, he leads this household.”

Dick smiled. “I wish you were my woman. My brother got lucky finding such a beautiful, smart, blonde woman.”

“You’d be done with me the second you were finished. Just like you are with everyone else.”

Dick looked down and started laughing. “I probably need to stop tell you people everything that pops into my head.”

“Yeah you probably should.”

“I’ll just take out my lusts on Tracy tonight then. Thinking about you.”

“What a lucky girl.”

Dick got up began heading out the door. He looked back. “You know I’m only kidding right? I couldn’t do that to Sherm.”

“I know you idiot. I think I’m probably the only woman in the Tri-State that truly doesn’t want you and I never will.”

“Don’t say that now. Only makes me want you more baby.”

“There’s some wood that needs splitting. Maybe that’ll take your mind off of things.”

With the help of the Ranger’s the chores only took 3 hours. At mid day everyone was standing at the front porch saying his or her goodbyes. As they were driving away, Dick stopped his truck and turned back. “I’ll see you real soon Samuel Pierce.” Then he and his Ranger’s drove off into the never-ending pastureland of the Old Oklahoma.

#Chapter4 CowboysVClowns writer author novella project

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seedlingsofspring-blog · 7 years

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I decided to revise my short story Calla Lilies. I chose this one because this was actually one of my favorite stories that I produced this semester. The fact that I liked it so much surprised me, because it was written in first person with female main characters, two things I usually stray away from. However, if it is one thing that I’ve grown in this semester, it’s facing your fears and taking them on. So from that determination came this story, and I’m revising it because I also feel that I have the most potential to grow here considering this isn’t a style I usually write in.

I got a lot of wonderful critiques for this story, however, the ones I focused on in this revision were the abruptness of Grace’s dismissal of Ferry’s suggestion, the plausibility and clarity of their argument, more references and inclusion of the police, the “easiness” of the ending, and Ferry’s very calm reaction to Agnes.

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Calla Lilies —

Ferry The summer that Grace Bradley and I had our one and only argument was the same summer that Agnes Corthaven went missing. Mem and I weren't surprised at her disappearance. That spring had been colder than usual. It wasn’t until late May that the weather finally started warming up, so the calla lilies were a little bit behind schedule in their blooming. Mem always said that the calla lilies hated the cold, so the longer it lasted the more vengeful they became. Once the weather finally became warm enough for them to spur into action, they took out their grievances on whatever, or whoever, was nearest. And that summer, it happened to be Agnes Corthaven.

Grace My aunt Meagan was hysterical at Agnes’ disappearance. She was my mom’s sister, tall and wiry with beady eyes and black hair that seemed to stick out in every direction. She reminded me of the crows that landed on top of our house every evening. Ferry had told me once that those crows were the servants of Death, watching for who was the most ready to die so that they could report back to Death. I told her that that was bullshit, but I secretly wondered if perhaps they were and what that meant for my aunt. Aunt Meagan had arrived two days after Agnes had disappeared. Dad and I hadn’t even heard about it yet, as the farm was a fifteen minute drive outside of town and we didn’t really go into town very often. Usually, when I was at school during the year, I brought the news back on what was going on in the heart of Coto Springs, but since school had gotten out I had only been back in town twice. Both times were to get more buckets, because for some reason, our buckets were always disappearing. The door bell had rung once, an ear piercingly shrill note that lasted longer than doorbells should. “Grace!” my dad called from the kitchen. He was making dinner, cooking up some type of stir fry with too many green peppers and not enough watercress. It sizzled nicely, and Dad began slicing up some other vegetable, keeping an eye on the stir fry and boiling rice. “Can you get the door?” I had been reading in my room. The Darker Side by Jessica Piper. The scene was tense - Isla had finally teamed up with Jaywick, and they were bravely fighting the dragons of El Sh’rah, even though they were severely outnumbered. But suddenly, Jaywick took a wrong step backwards and tripped, falling into one of the many Pits of Death, and Isla- “Grace! The door!” With a loud sigh, I put down the book and skulked out of my room. Dad called a thank you as I walked past the kitchen to the front room. I stood on my tiptoes and peered through the peephole. Aunt Meagan was sobbing on the porch, blowing her nose unnecessarily loud into a napkin. She wasn’t wearing any make up, which I figured was either was because she was too distraught to put it on that morning or by this time of day she had cried it all off. But despite the lack of her trademark makeup, she hadn’t failed to put on her heels. I don’t think I had ever seen Aunt Meagan without some type of two inch heel. Mom said it was because she was insecure about being short. Mom’s entire side of the family was short, which included me, but it seemed to affect Aunt Meagan the most. All I could think of was how much she looked like those crows and whether or not she was really a disguised servant of Death. I opened up the door slowly. “Aunt Meagan?” I asked, still unsure as to why she was crying, or even why she was here in the first place. Although Aunt Meagan lived close to Dad and I, just in front of the calla lily field, she wasn’t exactly a frequent visitor to the farm. She flung herself at me, engulfing me in a hug and seemed to cry even louder. “Oh, Jamie! My Agnes has been kidnapped! Murdered! She’s all I have left and now she’s dead!” she wailed. I stood there uncomfortably for a moment. “Uhm,” I said, trying to think of something to say in response to that, but my brain was starting to short circuit. Aunt Meagan was too close, she was hugging me too tightly, and the words ‘kidnapped,’ ‘murdered,’ and ‘dead’ kept bouncing around in my head like sirens going off. I finally managed, “I’m not Jamie, I’m Grace.” Jamie was my younger sister; she lived with my mom on the other side of Coto Springs. She had the same short, choppy dark hair as I did and the same watery blue eyes. She was just now also getting to be about the same height as me, so people tended to get us mixed up more. However, Jamie still had more growing to do. This irked me as I was pretty much stuck at five foot zero. I didn’t think Aunt Meagan heard me; between her spastic breathing and drawn out sobs she seemed very preoccupied. I was getting more uncomfortable by the minute, so I managed to slink out of her hug and scamper into the kitchen where I could recruit my dad for help. “Dad, Aunt Meagan’s here and she thinks Agnes has been kidnapped and murdered, do you think she’s telling the truth? Is Agnes really dead? Aunt Meagan won’t stop wailing and I don’t know what to do, plus she still hugs too tightly. Please do something,” I said in one breath, glancing over my shoulder as if I expected Aunt Meagan to follow me into the kitchen. Dad frowned, his gaze still fixed on the cooked vegetables he was stirring with a wooden spoon. “How about this,” he said, in his voice that always made me feel the same way as drinking hot chocolate did. “I’ll go talk to Meagan, and you can keep an eye on the food. Sound good?” I nodded, taking the wooden spoon from him and stirring the vegetables around the pan so the watercress and peppers and mushrooms and baby corns all sizzled in the oil. Dad took off the floral apron he had been wearing and laid it on the counter, then walked into the front room with Aunt Meagan. Kidnapped, murdered, dead, the vegetables hissed through their sizzling. I frowned and stirred them faster. By the time Dad had managed to calm Aunt Meagan down to where she could speak without wailing, the stir fry and rice were finished, and I dished it out between three plates - just in case Aunt Meagan wanted some. We sat down at the kitchen table, and I slowly placed a plate of food in front of Dad and Aunt Meagan. Neither of them seemed to notice. Dad was holding Aunt Meagan’s hand and speaking to her soothingly, trying to get her to explain what exactly had happened. I remained quiet, sitting down in the wooden chair on my side of the table. “She was supposed to be back at 10:30,” Aunt Meagan said and sniffled, using the hand that wasn’t being held by Dad’s to rub her nose. “She was out with her friends and she was supposed to back by 10:30! But she wasn’t, and she wasn’t back the next morning either! Her friends said she had left at 10! But she never came back! No one’s seen her, Dan!” Her voice was getting steadily shriller as she continued. “Did she stop by here? Did you see her? She’s in your grade, right?” This question was directed at me, and I quickly bobbed my head, eager to be out of the Aunt Meagan’s piercing gaze. Agnes and I were both going to be seniors at Coto Springs High next fall. Usually, we pretended not to know each other, but we were in the same calculus class this past year and we had started to talk more. She was better at calculus than I was. “She hasn’t stopped by the farm, but I’m sure she’s still okay,” Dad said calmly. His hot chocolate voice seemed to ground Aunt Meagan, as she surprisingly didn’t start to wail again, but her bottom lip still trembled. “Have you gone to the police?” Dad asked. “They might be able to help you.” “Of course I’ve gone to the police! They know nothing! No one’s seen her, Dan! No one!” Aunt Meagan seemed close to tears again, like a sheep in the few seconds before it spooked. “Alright, alright,” Dad said, rubbing her hand. “We’ll go out looking tonight, alright? I’m sure we’ll find her.” He offered her a winning smile, the smile that I had learned meant everything-is-going-to-be-just-fine. We went out looking that night. Dad and Aunt Meagan went in his blue truck, and I went in my hulking black one. We weren’t the only ones out looking. Black and white police cars slide by in the darkness, slowly patrolling the town boundaries, occasionally stopping by houses and small shops to inquire inside. We drove all around Coto Springs, all around the surrounding area, even stopping by the houses of people I knew were in Agnes’ friend group, asking if they’d seen her. They hadn’t. We went out again the next night, and the next night, and the next night. But it was as if she had disappeared into the thin tendrils of smoke that wafted out from our chimney, slowly climbing higher into the air until they faded into nothingness.

Ferry Mem and I had been reading tea leaves when Grace’s truck rolled up. “The sun is at a perfect angle today for tea leaf reading,” Mem had said earlier that morning. “Four o’clock specifically will have the most accurate reading.” Today, she was wearing what she called her “elf-outfit,” which consisted of burlap sewn together into a tunic with a leather belt that sported several various sized pouches. Her fishnet stockings were mostly covered by her boots, which had buckles all over them and went up above her knees. Brown leather gloves stretched up her arms all the way to her elbows, covering her swirling and intertwining tattoos. The gloves stopped at the base of her fingers, which Mem preferred so that her hands could breathe. Mem always said that the hands were the gateway from the earth to the soul, and they must be allowed to breathe at all times. The elf-outfit was my favorite outfit of hers, as it was specifically for days when we would toy with time to see if we could convince the future to reveal some of its secrets. This was done in a variety of ways: reading the stars, reading tea leaves, translating dreams, scrying, tarot cards, the list goes on. My personal favorite was the tarot cards, but, as Mem said, today was a tea leaf reading kind of day. The sun was only at a good angle so often, and we couldn’t afford to waste it. Mem started boiling the water in a bucket over the fire that blazed in the corner. We always had various buckets around the house, because I always took one from Grace whenever I left after visiting her farm. The Bradleys always had so many buckets, and Mem and I continuously found ourselves needing another bucket for some reason or another. I etched on the kitchen table with a stick while Mem poured in the tea leaves. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was drawing, but I knew that it was going to be good because I was drawing based on the instructions that the wind whispered to me. When we had first moved into this house, Mem had immediately removed all of the glass from every window, so that the wind could move freely throughout the house. The wind was curious, Mem said, and it didn’t like to be locked out. Mem had hung a variety of wind chimes in every room so that the wind could speak to us. Humans couldn’t understand wind’s natural language, Mem said, so the wind chimes acted as a type of translator to a more human-friendly language. The kitchen had the most wind chimes; nine of them hung from the ceiling, cabinet tops, and the open window frames. They twinkled beautifully in an orchestra whenever the wind flew by, like the colors reflected on the wall by tiny pieces of glass held up just right in the sun. I was a little bit in love with the wind. Mem got out two tea-leaf-reading cups as the water hit a boil. They were large cups, both about the size of my skull, and made out of dirt. Dirt cups made tea leaf reading more accurate. The dirt made the tea leaves feel closer to the earth and their original roots, which made them more likely to share secrets. “Beautiful translation,” Mem said, nodding approvingly at my scratches in the table as she set down the cups. I examined my own work; it was filled with wavy lines and circles that intertwined and overlapped over each other, with one horizontal line that was as straight as something man-made on the top of it. The straight line had two circles on the left side of it, and one circle on the right. I was absolutely sure it was significant in some way. It was at that moment that I knew Grace was coming to visit, because the wind chime hanging in the far window started to plink more quickly and more often than the other eight. I told Mem this. “The wind chimes are always ten minutes fast,” Mem said, bending over to pick up the pot of tea leaf water and bring it over to the table. “We’ll read the tea leaves until she shows up.” She poured the water into each cup, filling it to the brim, and then sat down across from me. We watched the water slowly disappear as it sank into the dirt, dribbling out of the bottom of each cup. It ran all over the table until it spilled off the edge like starling tears. We didn’t mind the water dribbling onto the floor, as we knew that it would eventually slide to the calla lilies planted in a pile of dirt in the corner. Calla lilies were another necessity in every room of the house; each room had its own dirt pile and its own clump of five to eight of them. Mem said that the calla lilies were moody, and living with them was the easiest way to be on good terms with them. If treated especially well during the cold months, they would provide blessing throughout the summer. If not treated well, they would be more aggressive than ever. There was a field of calla lilies on the edge of Coto Springs, close to the more townsy edge, the area filled with boutiques and shops. It provided a nice backdrop to the town, but not many people ever went out there. It was rumored to be the home of very territorial wasps, and people of Coto Springs preferred to leave the risky behaviors to tourists. Mem didn’t believe there were any wasps, and she went out there every so often to pick new calla lilies for the house. It was best to go at the end of summer, when the weather was getting colder, because the calla lilies would be more grateful to be spared from the cold. The water finally drained out of the dirt cups, leaving the clumps of tea leaves scattered around the bottom. Mem and I both peered over our respective cups, studying them and trying to decipher what they had decided to reveal. Mem clucked at her cup, folding her arms and leaning closer to it. Before she could say anything, there was a familiar rap on the door, a quick bang-bang-bang. Mem didn’t even look up from her tea leaves, so I answered the door instead. Grace was standing on the porch. She was a good five inches shorter than I was, and she was wearing her typical get up of basketball shorts and an old t-shirt that she once told me used to be her dad’s. Grace wore her dad’s shirts quite a lot, which I thought was a lovely demonstration of the kinship between their spirits. She must’ve cut her hair again, because it was shorter than I last remembered it to be, closer to her head. Grace cuts her hair herself, in a style she calls “a-lawnmower-ran-over-it,” but I like to think of it more as “baby-bird-fluff.” “Salve,” I greeted her warmly, which meant hello in Latin, because birds speak Latin. “Mem and I were just reading tea leaves. Would you like to come in?” Grace nodded and followed me inside. I sat back down in my chair at the kitchen table. Our table only had two chairs, because usually it was only Mem and I, so Grace sat down on the floor next to the calla lilies. “Be mindful of the water,” I said. “It’ll eventually slink down to the dirt just there.” Grace eyed the water dripping off the table, then glanced up at Mem. “Hey, Mrs. McGinnis,” she said. Mem was still hovered over her tea leaves, mumbling under her breath and squinting and unsquinting her eyes. Grace and I both watched her for a moment. “Mem’s very focused,” I explained. “Today is the optimal day for tea leaf reading. She doesn’t want to miss it.” “Ah,” Grace said, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. Her gaze flicked back to me. “Well, my cousin has gone missing. Agnes Corthaven. She’s been missing for four days now. I was hoping, with, yknow, all the stuff you and your mom do, maybe you could help find her.” Agnes Corthaven, the Duckling. I remembered her - she was in my class in eighth grade. She had big, brown eyes and curly, blond hair, freckles dashed across her nose. People liked Agnes. In eighth grade, the nature spirits had liked Agnes, too. I knew because her house was always covered in flowers, even in the winter. But I left school after eighth grade because Mem decided that school didn’t teach anything truly important. I hadn’t seen Agnes since. All the same, I knew immediately what must have happened. “It must be the calla lilies,” I told Grace, clasping my hands and placing them in my lap. “It was a long winter this year, so they would’ve been very crotchety when it started to warm up. Agnes must have just disturbed them.” Grace frowned. “Calla lilies?” I nodded matter-of-factly. “Yes, like the ones you’re sitting next to. They’re the most bristly of all the flowers, unfortunately. It’s best to stay away from them in early summer.” Grace tilted her head a little to the left and squinted at me. She was quiet for a few moments before repeating, “Calla lilies are the most bristly of all the flowers?” “Yes, of course,” I said. “Most people don’t know that. They tend to think that roses are because of thorns and unrequited love and all of that hogwash. But calla lilies are far more snarly. Mostly they’re pretty harmless if they’re treated right, or left alone. But if they’re disturbed-” “Okay,” Grace interrupted. She was playing with her hands, clasping and unclasping them. “That’s very fascinating honestly but I really need to know about Agnes.” I didn’t quite understand what she meant. “I am telling you about Agnes.” Grace gave a small sigh and then ran her fingers through her hair, leaning up against the back wall. “Look,” she said, “I know you’re trying but I need to you to ask the wind who took her or look into a bowl of water and see where she is.” I laughed lightly, a small grin rising on my face. “You can’t just ask the wind whatever you want, you just listen. It’s only a one way conversation. And water scrying is a myth, remember, I explained that to you.” “Well can’t you at least try?” Grace demanded, suddenly standing up. “You do all types of magical things all the time. Agnes could be in serious danger.” “I know and I’m telling you, the calla lilies-” “The calla lilies what? Kidnapped her? It’s one thing to say that the wind speaks to you, but violent flowers? Aren’t flowers the opposite of violent?” “The calla lilies didn’t kidnap her,” I said hastily. Calla lilies didn’t kidnap. They were more like vipers of the plant world, striking when they were stepped upon. “Kidnapping isn’t something they would do. However, they would-” “Ferry!” Grace put her hands on her hips. Her voice had risen a few octaves, making her voice sound especially shrill. “Do you understand how incredibly serious this is? I can’t just go to the police station and tell them that the calla lilies took her!” I sighed, wringing my hands, trying to think of a way to explain it so Grace would understand. “The calla lilies didn’t take her-” “Death,” Mem said suddenly in a hollow voice. Grace and I both looked at her, startled into silence. Mem raised her gaze to stare at me. “The tea leaves. I knew I had seen that symbol somewhere before. It’s Death.” Death was a very rare symbol in tea leaf reading. I had never had one appear any of my tea leaves. Mem had seen it once before. However, it was one of those very vague symbols. Death could mean anything from the death of a plant to the death of a friendship to literal death. It was all in the specific angles of the tea leaves, said Mem, but no one had every really figured out which angle meant what. The wind chimes plinked softly. I stared back at Mem. “Oh dear.” Grace threw her hands in the air and muttered something under her breath that I couldn’t catch. With that, she turned and stomped outside. Mem startled as the door slammed behind Grace. She glanced in its direction, then back at me, tilting her head slightly. “Was someone here?” I quickly told Mem that Grace had stopped by while she had been focused, and then I stood up and followed Grace outside. She was already halfway out to her truck when I called out her name. She turned back to me, fists clenched. I was surprised to see her eyes had started to become red and watery. “I thought at least you could help,” she said, her voice trembling slightly she spoke. “I thought- I just thought-” Grace gritted her teeth and stuck her hands in her hair before gesturing wildly. “I just thought maybe you at least would do something like, I don’t know, ask the tea leaves where she was! Look into a crystal ball or something! Meditate, even, I don’t know!” I gazed at Grace, slightly stung. “Grace…we’ve been friends for ages. You know that’s not what we do.” “Maybe you should start doing it!” She snapped, jerking her head away. “Maybe you should start doing things that actually help people! Instead of holing up in this oldass house and coming up with all this shit about evil flowers!” “Grace, things just don’t work that way-” “Oh, right right,” Grace said in a voice filled with thorns, turning away and stomping towards her truck. “Because bristly flowers is totally the way things work. I forgot. Sorry. I’ll go ask the calla lilies to give Agnes back nicely.” I stayed silent and hugged myself as I watched Grace climb into her truck. Grace’s truck was a monster of a vehicle, black and larger than any car I had ever seen in Coto Springs. It was like watching Grace climb into a black bear and seeing it snarl to life with her trapped inside. Grace wheeled the truck around to sit parallel with the porch. Leaning out the window, she said, “Until you find a way to actually find her, don’t talk to me. I’m going to find Agnes.” Her truck growled away, picking up speed as it drove down the street. The wind chimes played, but I couldn’t hear the wind.

Grace I floored it, rolled down the windows, and blasted Burning Bridges by Red Tide. The wind whipped my hair around my face as my truck roared down the small town road, shaking all of the old receipts and pens I had left in the cup holders. I snarled at signs that read SPEED LIMIT: 45 and sped through yellow lights, spinning up the volume every time I passed another car. With the rising number of police cars out on the streets since the first day of Agnes’ disappearance, a small part of my mind cautioned that going these speeds on the small roads of Coto Springs was sure to earn me my fourth speeding ticket. But the words ‘kidnapped’ and ‘murdered’ still rattled around in my head like squirrels in the attic, and this throbbing pain drumming on my ribs refused to fade. So I pretended that small part of my mind didn’t exist. Words from the McGinnis house joined the ones bouncing around in my head. Words like ‘calla lilies’ and ‘death’ started to whisper themselves louder and louder. I just cranked up Burning Bridges. Ferry and I had been best friends for five years. She was a little eccentric and certainly looked it, with her bushy, red hair and wide eyes and never ending wardrobe of overalls. But she hadn’t cared that I lived on the farm. She sat next to me in the back corner of the classroom in seventh grade when everyone else whispered and snickered. But this was serious. I revved the engine, sending the truck thundering down the streets that had now turned from asphalt into dirt as I left the townsy part of Coto Springs. Agnes Corthaven was missing. My cousin was missing. The truck howled, kicking up dirt behind it and shrouding the shrinking image of Coto Springs in its wake. Agnes Corthaven was missing, and Ferry still believed that she had been stolen by evil flowers. What if I was next? What if I was kidnapped and murdered? Would Ferry believe that the calla lilies had murdered me, too? The truck thundered up to my house, and I jerked the steering wheel to the right hard and slammed on the brake. The truck swerved and slowly slid to a halt, sending up a cloud of dust. For a moment, it stood there, simply rumbling. I reached up and turned the key in the ignition. The music abruptly cut off. The truck gave one last whine before going silent. I wondered if Agnes had gone that quietly. I slowly got out of the truck and walked into the house. Mom and Jamie had stopped by yesterday afternoon as soon as they heard the news about Agnes. They were both sitting on the couch in the living room with Aunt Meagan, their eyes glued to the TV screen where an announcement was being made by the local police about Agnes’ disappearance. The radio was playing softly on the side table, and Aunt Meagan held both the house phone and her cell phone on her lap with her her slightly trembling hands. All five of them looked up as I walked into the room. “Anything?” Aunt Meagan asked anxiously. I wearily shook my head, and they slumped back into the couch. “I’m sure someone will call,” my mother murmured to Aunt Meagan, putting a hand on her knee. Aunt Meagan just stared straight ahead at the TV, her mouth firmly pressed into a thin line. “Dad’s still out looking,” Jamie said to me. “He said he’d be back around 10 tonight.” I just nodded, and started to my room, trying to ignore the reel of Kidnapped, murdered, calla lilies, death, playing over and over in my head.

Ferry Mem said not to worry about Grace, but I always worried about Grace. I had read her tarot cards to her multiple times, and she had consistently picked the nine of swords, the card of fear and sadness. I hadn’t told her specifically that that’s what the card stood for, as it could also indicate getting perspective and recognizing the sprinkles from the storms. However, that explanation was only if the card was flipped over and the picture was upside down. Grace had always managed to flip it over with the picture right side up. The picture on the nine of swords was a hand touching a pool of water, but the hand reflected in the water was a skeleton hand, made only of bones. And then today, Mem had read Death in the tea leaves, with Grace in the room. Mem was making dinner now, boiling something in the large pot over the fire. Grace had left about an hour ago, and the wind chimes for once were quiet and still. I sat at the kitchen table with the stick in my hand, unsure of what to scribe into the wood without the wind giving instruction. Unsure if I could scribe in the woods even with the wind’s instruction. “Strange that it was Agnes Corthaven,” Mem mused, sprinkling some type of spice in the pot and giving it an experimental stir. “The spirits had always seemed to like her. She wasn’t the type to go wandering into the calla lilies, anyway.” I tapped the stick on the table instead, poking it at each past inscription carved. “Perhaps she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I said quietly. Perhaps Grace was right. Perhaps it wasn’t the calla lilies at all. Mem nodded slowly, stirring the pot. “The calla lilies aren’t picky,” she said. She gave the ones in the kitchen a warm glance and a smile. “At least we know the trick to staying on their good side.” I followed her gaze to the calla lilies, sitting quietly in the corner and waving innocently in the breeze. “Yeah,” I said. Maybe we don’t really know anything at all.

Grace I woke up feeling guilty about shouting at Ferry yesterday, but the more I thought about it, the more guilty thoughts of Ferry turned into anxious thoughts of Agnes. Kidnapped, murdered. Calla lilies, death. I rolled out of my bed and started downstairs. The farmhouse was already alive, with Mom and Jamie working like a machine in the kitchen, Dad making calling the police station in the living room to report his so far fruitless search, and Aunt Meagan looking like she hadn’t moved from last night, with the TV and radio still on and the phones still in her lap. Jamie glanced up as I stumbled down the stairs. “Hey, sis. We’re making pancakes. You want one?” “Sure,” I said, pulling on my sneakers from where they sat at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll take one in the truck with me.” “You’re leaving already?” Mom asked, glancing up from flipping a pancake. Sizzles echoed out from the pan as it landed. “Agnes is still missing, Mom,” I said, pulling on my other sneaker. I never bothered to untie them, which had made the laces grow steadily looser but had simultaneously made them incredibly easy to slip on. “She isn’t sitting around eating pancakes.” Mom gave me a look that I couldn’t really pinpoint, but it was somewhere between pity and discouragement. “We’re just trying to lighten the atmosphere,” she said eventually. “Be careful out there, alright?” “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “I’m not the one missing.” Jamie handed me a pancake as I walked past her. I stuffed it in my mouth and pulled a jacket off the row of hooks by the door. Shrugging the jacket across my shoulders and swallowing the majority of the pancake, I climbed into my truck, sticking the key into the ignition and listening to the engine roar to life. For a moment, I just sat there. It must be the calla lilies. It was a long winter this year, so they would’ve been very crotchety when it started to warm up. There was a field of calla lilies on the edge of Coto Springs. Right next to Aunt Meagan’s house. I didn’t believe Ferry. But, we had looked everywhere else. It didn’t hurt to check. I put the truck into drive and started toward the calla lily field.

Ferry Neither Mem nor I owned a car, but Mem did have an old yellow bike that she used to ride when she was a child. It was a two seater bike, but I mostly just rode it by myself. I used it to ride into town, to ride to Grace’s house, sometimes to ride just for fun. It had a tiny wind chime hanging from the left handlebar, so I could chat with the wind. But I was always careful to use the bike and make sure it was safely put back before noon. Mem said that manmade items were best used before noon. If you continued to use them after noon, the spirits would get jealous, and you would fall out of their favor. So at first light, while Mem gardened, I took out the two seater yellow bike out from behind the raspberry bushes on the side of the house and started towards the calla lily field. Mem had always been the one to go to the calla lily field and pick the ones to put in our house. I had never been to the calla lily field before, so today, I was wearing my adventuring outfit. Mem always said to wear your armor when going out into nature, and mine was a pair of bright blue corduroy overalls with tiny embroidered strawberries. The strawberries matched my red sandals, which Grace had given me a year or so ago. She told me that she had found them in a thrift store and thought of me. Both the red sandals and the fact that she had thought of me made me incredibly delighted. I wondered if perhaps I had been too forthright with Grace yesterday. It was important to be honest and say what you mean when reading tarot cards or translating the nature spirits, but Grace wasn’t a nature spirit or a tarot deck. Grace was a tiny bird who pretended to be a black bear. I told myself that I needed to remember that more. Grace was mostly the reason I was going to the calla lily field. I thought perhaps she would feel better if I could discover and explain to her what had happened to Agnes Corthaven.

Grace I pulled my truck over on the shoulder of the road and turned it off, listening to the rumbling engine slowly lapse into silence. The calla lily field sprawled out from the left side of my truck, rising up out of the grass of the shoulder and stretching out into the distance. White dots all ominously waving in the wind, staring at me. I glared back at them. Slowly, I got out. They’re just flowers, I told myself. I kept an eye on them anyway. Locking my truck, I stood in front of the calla lily field, hands on my hips, and stared out into it. It was quiet. I started to walk down the shoulder of the road, surveying the calla lilies as I did so. My eyes traveled over their stems and up across their white blossoms, back and forth like a water sprinkler. They stood tall under my gaze and sneered back at me, asking why I was being so meticulous if I believed they were just flowers. I shot back that it didn’t hurt to check. I walked to the very end of the calla lily field and saw nothing. No sign of Agnes anywhere. See? They’re just flowers. What a waste of time. I turned to go back to my truck, wrapping my arms around myself as I walked. I was almost embarrassed at myself for coming all the way out here. Of course the calla lilies didn’t actually take her. I already knew that. I could’ve spent this time driving back around each nook and cranny of Coto Springs- “Grace!” I jerked my head up at the sudden noise. Ferry was running towards me, bushy red hair streaming out behind her. I frowned, hugging my arms tighter around myself. “Ferry, why the hell are you here?” She didn’t say anything, just kept running towards me. “You were wrong, you know,” I said as she got closer and closer. “I walked up and down here. Agnes isn’t in the calla lilies. They didn’t take her and you were wrong and unless you have a good reason to be here-” “You have to actually go into the field,” Ferry said, panting as she finally stood in front of me. She bent over slightly, tired from running, and put her hands just above her kneecaps. After a few moments, she added, “She’s not just going to be on the edge. The calla lilies are smart. She’s not going to be easy to find.” “She’s not going to be easy to find because she isn’t there,” I said. “I told you, I looked.” Ferry raised her gaze to meet mine, and she shook her head. “Not hard enough.” With that, she straightened and walked into the field of calla lilies. I stared after her, transfixed by her sudden boldness. The flowers brushed against her legs, rising to just above her knees, clinging to her a little too long as she brushed through them. Their white petals seemed to shiver as she walked by. The only sound was Ferry’s light footsteps on the dirt as she slowly went deeper into the field. She slowly turned back to me, and for a moment, we just stared at each other. Then, she raised a hand and gestured at me to follow her. There is nothing to be worried about. They’re just flowers. Just flowers. I rolled my eyes dramatically as if I didn’t care and stuffed my hands in my pockets as if I didn’t care and stomped into the field of calla lilies as if I didn’t care. I started in a different direction than Ferry, figuring that if I was going to have to walk out here in the flowers then I would do it where I couldn’t hear her spacey voice going off about how I wasn’t looking hard enough. But my heart had started to beat slightly quicker all the same. The calla lilies were surprisingly cold. Their leaves brushed up against my bare calves, like small sheets of ice. The cold stung slightly as I moved past them. I inhaled, held it, then exhaled slowly. Just flowers. I walked faster, hunching my shoulders and solely looking at the ground directly in front of me. The calla lilies seemed to stretch on forever. Of course, naturally there had to be an ending point somewhere, but the farther I walked the more the calla lilies seemed to multiply. The wind was louder in the field. It rustled through the waves of flowers, shaking them just enough to cause the sound similar to crumpling paper to echo out from beneath their rounded petals. Shsh, Shsh, it hissed. Then, I saw the shoes. Kidnapped. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart leaping wildly in my chest. The hissing of the flowers was starting to grow louder, echoing out from all around me. Murdered. I felt my stomach turn uncomfortably and I tried to tell myself how easily it would be for someone to trip and fall in the calla lily field. Calla lilies. I slowly stepped forwards, my eyes fixed on the shoes. The icy petals stung my calves as I moved. My heart began to pound painfully against my rib cage like a flock of crows leaping into the sky. Death. Agnes was lying in the calla lilies, her brown eyes wide and unblinking, staring up at the sun. The side of her head was smashed against a large rock that had been otherwise hidden beneath the calla lilies. Dried blood had trickled down her face, a dull red that contrasted sharply with the unnatural whiteness of her skin. I couldn’t breathe. My mouth opened and closed and I tried to scream but it came out a strangled noise instead. I blinked and blinked but she was still there, she was still there, oh god, oh god, I couldn’t breathe, my legs felt like straw and I was going to fall over- Suddenly, Ferry was there, standing in front of me. It took me a few moments to recognize that her arms were wrapped around me, and for once I wasn’t immediately uncomfortable by someone hugging me. I threw my arms back around her and held onto her tightly, pressing my face into her shoulder. I tried to tell her that Agnes- Agnes was right there and she, she was, she was- “Totum bonum erit,” Ferry murmured, and she stroked my hair. “Totum bonum erit, parva avis.” I didn’t know what that meant, but I let her whisper it over and over to me. We stood like that for a long while in the calla lilies beside Agnes, and I just cried.

Ferry In Latin, parva avis means “Grace.” I slowly helped Grace walk back from the calla lily field towards the road. She was still crying, but less heavily now. I helped her onto the back seat of the yellow bicycle, holding it steady until she could sit on it without falling. I didn’t trust her to drive back in her black bear truck. When I felt convinced she wouldn’t fall over if I let go, I slowly walked back to Agnes Corthaven, crouching in the calla lilies next to her. She looked afraid. Mem said Death was the kindest spirit. It existed in between worlds, guided those leaving this one and traveling to the next. It asked for nothing, only offered its assistance to those who needed or wanted it. I no longer believed her. Agnes Corthaven’s eyes were open and unblinking, staring in a desperate sort of way at the cloudless sky above her. Her curly, blond hair was tangled and caught in the leaves and stems around her, her head at an unnaturally awkward angle. She looked as if she was falling and she hadn’t yet hit the ground. Frozen in fear, quite literally. “Totum bonum…bonum…erit,” I tried to whisper, but my voice faltered. In Latin, totum bonum erit means “it will be okay.” But I wasn’t sure if I believed it.

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