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#so really it's more like how the coyotes came back into my city
hangmanwh0re · 1 year
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"Anh bỏ bùa gì mà lại làm em yêu vậy" What Spell Did You Cast to Make Me Fall In Love With You?
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pairing – hangman x f!reader, jake seresin x f!reader, wife!reader, pilot!reader
summary – the marriage between the cocky blonde texan who thinks he's too good for everybody and the soft vietnamese girl
warnings – fluff, no smut, safe for minor readers, PG-13 language so be warned, like three mentions of alcohol, VERY slight angst, also no usage of y/n | 1.59k
word count – 1,587
notes – based on my desired reality (DR) vietnamese oc born in the united states, callsign is "dragon" and name is nicole. also, the title is a line in a vietnamese song called see tình by hoàng thùy linh, it's a good song! also, this is the first fic i've ever written in full so please enjoy!
ACT 1, SCENE 1 - THE HARD DECK
Nicole walks back to the pool table from the bar, drinks in hand. She hands a beer to Jake.
"Mrs. Seresin, what on earth are you drinking?" says Jake "Hangman" Seresin, reminding her of her soon-to-be married name. He gestures to her glass, a rosy-colored concoction of various fruit juices and seltzer.
"Have you got a single thought behind those green marble eyes of yours? Asian flush, genius!" she responds, the tone jokingly mocking.
Phoenix and Coyote almost choked on their drinks laughing at the exchange. Phoenix puts a hand on her chest and clears her throat.
"You know, when you guys told us about the engagement thing, I almost didn't believe you. Cowboy marrying a city girl. Now that's funny." said Phoenix.
Jake sashayed over to Nicole, wrapping his big arms around her. His way of showing her love was through physical touch. Hugging, kissing, holding hands.
"You know I'm only teasing you, baby." he said. Nicole giggled and wrapped her hands around his arms. Eye-rolling and further snickers ensue from Natasha and Javy.
Nicole understood this familiar plea for attention. They best enjoyed moments where it was just the two of them. No snickers, no glances, no doubts of their relationship. "Well, guess we better be on our way, it's.." Nicole glanced at her watch. "5:54!" she exclaimed, breaking out of Jake's grip.
Jake and Nicole set down their drinks down on a table. "Take care of our tab!" Jake said hurriedly, as he and Nicole frantically get ready to leave the Hard Deck. Nicole reached into her pocket and grabbed her keys, organized by size. "We'll see you guys at the ceremony," she said, grabbing Jake's hand and speed-walking with him out to the car.
Phoenix looked at Coyote in disbelief and scoffed, "Those two never pay their bill."
"Good thing I brought my credit card.." said Coyote.
ACT 1, SCENE 2 – THE CAR RIDE HOME
Nicole grasped the steering wheel as she breathed deeply. Music was softly playing through the speakers.
As "Glue Song" by beabeedoobee came on, Nicole glanced out of her window at the orange-red sunset, a common sight since moving to San Diego five years ago.
Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, which was 1,082 miles away, she enjoyed and preferred the sweltering heat of Southern California rather than Oregon's aqueous, blinding rains and windswept squalls.
She turned the music volume down using the button on the dashboard.
"Is something wrong?" Jake said, looking over at her. Placing his fingers in her hair, he started to run them through the ends of her slightly wavy, brown hair.
"Jake, you know my family."
"Well, of course I do, we've had dinner with them at your parents' restaurant so many times."
"That's sort of the problem." Nicole sighed, shifting a little bit in the leather driver's seat.
"What do you mean?" Jake said, returning his hand to his side.
"It's just that.. you know. I'm Asian and you're white. I'm really nervous on how our wedding is going to look."
"Oh, Nicky. You're worried about nothing. It can be disorganized as hell and I'd still be happy because I'm marrying you."
She felt more eased. Nicole loved it when he comforted her. The feeling was like an ocean wave had swept over her feet. Calming yet so comforting.
"Thanks babe." She said, turning her head to smile at him, replied to with a bright pearly white smile from her husband.
ACT 2, SCENE 1 – FLASHBACK, FIRST PERSON JOURNAL, NICOLE
I had just gotten to North Island yesterday afternoon. My god, the warm air and sun makes me feel like I'm on vacation or something.
"Looks like we have ourselves another lady pilot!"
I turned my head. There's a 6'1 man coming towards me. Who could this be? Is he talking to me? Surely, he is.
He extended his hand to me. Do I shake it? Reluctantly, I did.
"Nicole. Callsign's Dragon. And you?"
"The name's Hangman, but you can call me yours."
Oh my god. Did I just get hit on within my first HOUR of being here? Yes, I did. I just decided to forget about it.
Later that evening, my new friends Natasha and Callie took me to a bar. It was called The Hard Deck, I think? Really funny name. Fitting for a Navy bar, I guess.
But what do you know it, when I walk in, guess who I see? That blonde man from earlier.
For the first fifteen minutes, I tried my best to bury my head in conversation with Natasha and Callie. Their callsigns were Phoenix and Halo, which I thought was super cool. Dragon, Phoenix, Halo, the best female pilots in the nation, damn right.
I couldn't get him off of my mind though. So I told them what happened earlier, and they told me to go strike up a conversation with him. I don't regret it at all.
I walked up to the bar where he was sitting, pulled out the stool next to him, and sat down. He looked up.
"Well, who do we have here? You're that lady pilot from earlier today. Dragon, right?"
"How did you even remember all of that?"
"I'm magic, darling."
I couldn't help but blush. Darling? Please, this sounded like a cheesy romance novel that I would be forced to read for junior high English class.
"Whatever. But uh, yeah. I thought about what you said earlier. I respect you for having the guts to be that outgoing."
He chuckled. His teeth were perfect. I really can't lie, he's gorgeous.
"You, uh, never really told me your name either. You just told me your callsign. So.. yeah.."
"The name's Jake. Jake Seresin."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Jake Seresin."
And that is the start of how I got a date for this Friday. For the second only time in my life, I'm dating somebody. Maybe someday, I'll marry somebody too.
Nicole, August 24, 2019
ACT 3, SCENE 1 – 3 DAYS LATER, WEDDING DAY
Nicole closed the journal and set it on the table of the vanity. She re-read the entry from her first day at Naval Air Station North Island, reminiscing on her first encounters with her soon-to-be husband.
"I can't believe the last line became reality. It's like it was just yesterday." she said to her sister, Josephine, who was curling her hair with a hot curling iron.
Nicole was wearing a white Áo dài with a white headpiece too, as per the Vietnamese tradition.
Josephine turned off the curling iron and helped Nicole get up from her chair.
"You're looking so beautiful, all dolled up like this, Nicky. You're a big, strong woman now." She said, giving her sister a bear hug.
"Thank you. Thank you so much, Joey. It's like yesterday we were just playing dollhouse in the basement, and now I'm getting married."
Both smiled at each other. "Go on out there girl. He's waiting."
Nicole walked out of the dressing room, and moved in between the arms of her parents, Uyen Kim and Han Hoang. They were so moved by the sight of their daughter marrying a man that makes her happy and content with life.
Nicole couldn't help but tear up when she looked out into the room and crowd. The wedding hall was clearly decorated with Vietnamese and western influence, paying homage to both families.
And there in the distance, she saw Jake waiting for her at the altar. Dressed in his Navy whites, he looked like the most handsome man in the world in Nicole's eyes.
When they reached the altar, her parents let go of her arms, and returned to their pew, as Nicole walked up to Jake, holding a bouquet of flowers. She saw the tears coming out of his eyes too.
In the congregation as Hangman's groomsmen were Rooster, Coyote, Payback, Fritz, Harvard, and Omaha. Nicole's bridespeople were Phoenix, Halo, and disregarding the traditional gender binaries, she also had Bob, Fanboy, and Yale. Also in the congregation was Penny and her daughter, Amelia.
"You look good, baby." said Jake, smiling at her and wiping her tears with his fingers.
"You look good too, baby." said Nicole.
When the time came to place rings on each other's fingers, Jake started to see all of their happiest memories together.
When he used his umbrella to cover her during a rainstorm, sacrificing his own uniform for her own comfort, and when he carried her back home on his back after an exhausting work day.
And as the minister had them recite their vows, Nicole started to see all of their memories flash before her eyes too.
The sunset drives where they sung along to Taylor Swift's "Our Song", the bar games where he always won, and the hugs that he would give her in front of their friends, not having a single worry in the world about embarrassing themselves.
"And now, you may kiss the bride." the minister said.
Jake leaned in to kiss her, finally landing a loving, gentle kiss on her lips. So moved, so loved, and so now married.
The congregation erupted in clapping and cheering.
"I can't believe they actually worked out." said Rooster, who was seconded by Phoenix and Coyote.
After a few full seconds, Nicole and Jake finally let go of each other's lips.
Looking each other in the eye, Nicole said,
"What spell did you cast on me to make me fall in love with you?" she said, smiling through tears and at this point, full sobbing.
"You know me. I'm magic, darling." he said, smiling back at her.
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lynndoublelegacy · 1 year
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What is going on in your changeling the lost game?
!!!!!!!!!!! You have opened the floodgates but also I only just woke up sO less floodgates than they could be bc I am tired and have some places to be
The Changeling the Lost game I play with my friends has all of us as recently escaped Changelings in a freehold in Buffalo NY (like we’ve all escaped within the past 6ish months?). I play the wonderful enby that is my pfp actually; their name is Oleander, Ander for short, they’re a wreck. It’s the main freehold in New York because the New York City freehold fell a few years back, it was a disaster and a lot of changelings were taken or killed. A Mirrorskin was involved, she made a deal with the fae to save her sister and it backfired HARD. One of our PCs got taken because of it and the repercussions are felt heavily. All that to say that the Buffalo freehold is a season-based freehold, but we have vestigial Dawn and Dusk courts leftover from the NYC freehold when what was left came to Buffalo for protection. Game started in Winter, we’re switching to Spring rn in game.
We just wrapped up a plotline where one of our PC’s sisters became the Goblin Queen while he was gone so we went to rescue her and a bunch of other people from the magic garden she was in/ran, it was. A very interesting time and our characters are all recovering from that mentally (especially since two of us has forest and plant-centered durances and Leon, said pc who’s sister was the goblin queen, has some time loop and magic induced amnesia so he didn’t even really remember her but felt obligated to save her anyway, he’s somewhere between 15 and 1000 years old because well time loops, he’s a wreck)
Anyway! As we’re all recovering from THAT traumatizing ordeal (there were a lot of dead bodies), the second in command of the autumn court approaches one of the other PCs (her name is Noir, she is a bundle of issues, grey morality and knives). Turns out! That the autumn monarch, for who knows how long, has been someone’s PUPPET at least for some of the time, and their second is trying to figure out who or what’s controlling them. The main suspect is the Autumn Spymaster, but, y’know, by the nature of that position, the only one who knows who the Autumn Spymaster issssss drumroll please YEP the mind controlled monarch. Autumn’s second isn’t a spy but knows Noir is good at that kind of thing so is asking her for help, also since she’s too new to the freehold to be the one behind it all, and Noir both wants the Spymaster position and doesn’t want the very few people she cares about hurt.
So what started out as a chill found family Changeling game took a turn from rescue missions 1, 2, and 3 into Political Intrigue James Bond Time, Noir hasn’t slept in three days, Leon’s been dragged into this mess because he doesn’t know how to cope when there’s not a crisis, our Darkling chimera is getting to know her twin brother she was separated from at birth, wizened Coyote is MIA, ogre soldier went on a two day bender trying not to get arrested for punching people aaaaaand no one’s told Ander about the main plot because Noir wants to protect them EVEN THOUGH THEYRE CURRENTLY IN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO JOIN THE AUTUMB COURT.
We’re Disasters
Also if you want clarification on anything please feel free to send more asks I fuckin love this group we’re a Mess
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pathfinderslog · 1 year
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𝔻𝕚𝕕 𝕀 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕍𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕒 𝕊𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕥 ℂ𝕣𝕠𝕚𝕩?
They call it "the city of dreams" for a good reason. In Night City you can be anything you want, do anything you want, have everything you want. Money, fame, power. If you are born on the right side of the road.
But for those crawling out of dark, hidden, smelly alleys, there are no warm hugs and plush unicorns. It still remains the city of dreams, but of those are broken, trampled and crumpled.
If you are born on the wrong side of the road you will have to walk uphill for the rest of your life, because in most of cases, your birth was a terrible mistake made by someone who came before you and which you must try to remedy.
Or, as in the case of our history, by a series of unfortunate events and interlinked errors.
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𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕒 𝕣𝕦𝕞𝕠𝕣.
"Have you heard?"
"What?"
"She's back!"
"Who?"
"Vanilla, the jinxed girl!"
"SSST!! Are you insane?! Wanna make her hear you? She's Vinx now, stop calling her like that!"
"Oh, you're right. Sorry."
The blue-haired girl passed them silently, absorbed in her own thoughts. If she had heard their gossip she didn't make it clear, but she's used to certain rumors and most of the time she didn't even notice. She continued walking steadily towards the back door of the Coyote Cojo, the only entrance she has ever really used since she was a child. She threw a half-smoked cigarette on the floor and went inside, leaving the buzz of the alleys outside the door.
"So...?"
"She returned from Atlanta a few weeks ago and seems to have kept a low profile. A few jobs here and there, but little stuff, nothing more."
"What does she have in mind? Will she still have that crazy plan to blow up the city?"
"Oh, c'mon! It was a child's thing! You say so many things when you are little, she didn't really believe that!"
"Are you sure? Her gaze thought differently..."
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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕡 𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕗𝕗.
Once inside the pub she immediately sought her contact and she was not surprised to find him locked in the bathroom, hiding like a mouse.
"What is it? Are you afraid to be seen in my company?"
"You know that caution is never too much with you, Vinx!"
"Call me V."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's talk business!"
"You have what I asked for?"
"Yes, but it wasn't easy to find, it's a VERY hot information... the bastard has the back covered by a powerful corporation, and this has raised..." - He did not have time to finish the sentence that was slammed violently against the wall, with the girl's forearm pressed against his throat. - "Hey! Take it easy, girl! Even if I wanted to, I couldn't satisfy you anyway, I don't have the data with me"
"W-what?! Are you stupid, or something? Who the fuck goes to a negotiation without the goods!"
"It's not that simple. What you are looking for is on a computer on the Maelstrom network, protected by their firewall. I have spread the word that you are looking for it, it may be easier for you to approach..."
"Wait... you did what?!? Okay, you're clearly out of your mind. So, now I'll have all the f*ckin' Maelstroms in town with breath on my neck!! You s*cker!" - Everything went black in her mind as anger took over. A fight ensued, and the bastard even managed to punch to her right on her nose, before going to sleep.
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𝕀𝕟𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕖. 𝔼𝕩𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕖. 𝔽𝕚𝕩 𝕚𝕥 𝕦𝕡.
V looked at herself in the mirror, the hands still trembling. Her nose hurt like hell and it was already starting to swell.
That wasn't how it was supposed to go, but apparently, no matter how far you run, you can never get away from yourself. Wherever you go, the past will always know how to reach you. Going to Atlanta had done no good, except to waste two years of her life.
"I need a drink" she told herself, pulling herself up to get out of that stinking hole, climbing over the body of the man passed out on the ground.
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𝔸 𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕.
As she approached the counter, she felt much more relieved and even allowed herself a half smile when the familiar face of the bartender greeted her cheerfully "Hola V!"
"Hi Pepe! Give me something strong."
(ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵈⁱᵃˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃⁿˢᶜʳⁱᵖᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ, ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉᵉᵗ ᵏⁱᵈ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒ. ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ)
"Everything chill, hermana?"
"Some bastard tried to mug me, I handled it."
"Who? Local guy?"
"You really think somebody local'd tried to mug me, Pepe?"
"Listen V, I got a problem... Serious this time."
"C'mon, spit it! What is it now?"
"It's, uh, Kirk... I've owe 'im. Don't pay by tomorrow, said he'd bust my legs. An' he don't joke about that stuff. Got cartels in his corner."
"You in it with Kirk?! Every man, woman and rat in Heywood knows he's a f*uckin' shark!"
"My bro jumped the joint, deserved a hero's welcome... I know I fuck up V."
"Ugh, you ever gonna get wise, Pepe? Least tell me you're brother is doing alright."
"Ah, doing his things, you know. So, can you help me?"
"I'll talk to Kirk. But then you're gonna owe me one."
"And you're savin' my life V. Truly."
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ℍ𝕖𝕪 𝕂𝕚𝕣𝕜, 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜!
She found the shark at a table in the corner, upstairs, guarded by his huge bodyguard. Her first instinct was to jump around his neck and use him as a punching bag, but she sought a more diplomatic way, to try not to cause further trouble for Pepe.
They came to an agreement fairly quickly. Too fast for her taste. The job smelled like bad cheese, but Pepe is a friend, almost a family member, even though she has never had a real family. He saw her grow up, happily frolic among the Coyote's stools as if life could still smile at her.
So, yeah, it was worth the risk.
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ageofxail · 1 year
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31, 33, and 1! ^^
31: Look at the country you are currently living in. If they are an official Hetalia character, how do you feel about that character, as well as the country itself?
That would be the United States of America. Alfred F. Jones. I have... mixed feelings about him as a character. I do really love him! But he does not well encompass a lot of things I personally like to see in a representative of the US, hence my own deviating revisions of an American Representative in Daniel King. (And for England in Nicholas & Noel, and, well, all of my muses lmao) America's so incredibly vast and has so many cultural lines that it pretty much necessitates multiple characters to more accurately portray a wider scope of American mindsets and personalities. Alfred can be the bright, loud, annoying tourist and overbearing sort of American that's eager to start a brawl and hark on about the perfections of his Union while Daniel can be much softer-spoken diplomat who would rather adjust his posture and demeanor to match the country he's visiting and take on some of the darker aspects of a country fuelled by Corporate Greed and be the economist side of the legislative feud between Federal and Local jurisdictions. America is a mess and chaos and I could ramble about being fascinated, impressed, disgusted and wary of so many things about this country for literal days on end but this is a simple ask, therefore I will hold myself back. This time.
Alfred's an awesome character, please do not take my stance as hating on him, but I do find many aspects of his characterisation to be extremely annoying and overplayed. I love him, I don't love what Flanderisation has done to him in a lot of the Hetalia fanworks I've consumed over the years.
tldr; love Alfred F Jones, have my own ideas and I'm allowed to play with those.
33: What are some of your biggest headcanons?
Every individual Representative is completely unique. They're all going to have wildly different origin stories and sets of lore behind him. Some more outlandish than others. Sure, majority of my own Reps were humans who were magically selected by the Universe At Large to be an extremely good example of A Perfect Englishman or A Perfect Canadian, but then there's my Prussia who was magically created by occult magical practices by the Catholic Church and then said magic went haywire sideways and created a feral bloodthirsty living weapon who eventually learned self-control. Sort of.
Day-to-day lore also varies wildly; Noel (my Modern England) has extreme wanderlust but finds it physically painful to stay away from England for too long (see: After a decade of living in Australia with intent to retire from being a representative, his general health declined rapidly and forced him into a hard physical reset of his facade); Daniel (America/New York) has a binding magical contract where he cannot disobey - but he can Lawyer! - an order given by a member of Congress; Gabriel (Utah) can hear the Desert Buzz and if allowed to concentrate, can communicate effectively with coyotes and bees.
Representatives are largely unnecessary to the running of a country/state/city/region, and so are not holden to strictly historical paths that rep'd place had gone down. They're individuals and can have their own stories, even ones that are contradictory to what is believed about history. See: Daniel being a loyalist during the revolution. Again, this will vary wildly.
1:What got you into Hetalia?
Studying, actually! While searching for a study guide to assist my AP Euro History class in my sophmore year of high school, I came across a youtube video titled "What if WWI was a Bar Fight?" and while reading the comment section, there were many references to an anime called Hetalia. Curiosity had me looking up the show, watching a couple episodes, continually forgetting it was a thing and yet still revisiting the concept of Personified Representations of Countries as I wrote out summaries of various historical events thru the guise of Reps. I slowly consumed more actual Hetalia content, but by about five years into playing with Reps, I had decided I liked my own developed Personifications better than either canon or fanon Hetalia Reps and largely abandoned Hetalia in favor of simply enjoying my immortal lads as their own creations with loose ties to Hetalia as a starting point. A bachelor's degree in history and fourteen years later, I still enjoy Hetalia, but largely do my own thing.
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studioahead · 4 months
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Studio Spotlight: Headlands Center for the Arts
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The Marin Headlands is just north of San Francisco but worlds away. About halfway along its cape, home to some of the Bay Area's richest biodiversity, is a cluster of former military buildings that now house the Headlands Center for the Arts, unlike any museum or gallery in the city because its art is made on site. Its artists-in-residency program attracts international talent, but the Center keeps things local with a series of open studios, exhibitions, and artist talks for tourist and townie alike. We spoke with Mari Robles, executive director of the Center since 2021, about what it is like to build community in a place where you can see more stars in the sky than people on the streets.
Studio AHEAD: Hi, Mari! Tell us about how you came to Marin. Prior to your start at the Headlands, you were living in New York City, which is pretty much the opposite in terms of geography and pace of life.
Mari Robles: Marin is opposite in every way to NYC (and Chicago!)—coyotes, owls, stars, quiet! Like so many people, I started exploring new parts of myself during the pandemic, and the opportunity to extend that personal adventure to a new home and such an inspiring new mission felt right. And on a very basic level, how could you say no to such a beautiful place?
Studio AHEAD: What’s been the biggest change?
Mari Robles: I welcomed the change of pace, but I must admit, the first blackout in the Headlands was shocking.  I didn’t realize just how dark it could get. That, plus the fact that you can’t get food delivered or grab a taxi out here, can make you feel removed from the rest of the world. Ultimately, however, it’s that remove that allows for a great deal of reflection and an opportunity to commune with nature—all things that make Headlands such a special place for artists, and I’m happy to say, me as well.
Studio AHEAD: Has New York influenced how you approach your current position as executive director? Does Marin affect how you look back at your years in NYC?
Mari Robles: While I was working at The Met, I thought a lot about the conversation between local and global communities, specifically how they seem to be moving on a parallel path. We are living in a time when the most globally impactful thing you can do is to be hyper-responsive to your most immediate community. It’s so easy to overlook, but the impact of that approach radiates outwards and can influence the wider world in such meaningful ways. This was true of my experience in NYC, and based on my experiences so far, I also believe it’s true of the Bay Area.
Studio AHEAD: I love your idea of global and local moving in parallel—that’s a great way to describe how we work as designers.
Perhaps the biggest change from New York, and Chicago and Miami where you have also lived, is that there are far fewer people where you are. Does this create challenges in terms of building a community? We know the AIR program is doing a great job bringing people together….
Mari Robles: Recently, one of our summer residents called Headlands a “parenthesis in the world,” and that really struck me—this place is really so singular in the arts community. Our campus has a strong connection to the rest of the Bay Area while being distinctly separated from it, physically and psychologically. That means it can provide you with moments of heightened attention in which you’re deeply present with yourself, the artwork you’re seeing, your ideas, and your community. In order to experience this, however, you have to surrender to the inconvenience of traveling to this place. And depending on your starting point, that can indeed be daunting. But for those who are undeterred, that inconvenience is always worth it. 
Studio AHEAD: It’s worth it definitely. OK! Let’s talk actual art. A theme we noticed in reading a lot of the current art residents’ statements is the role California’s natural environment plays on their ways of making art. Certainly in our own work, we are always bringing the countryside into our design decisions. When deciding residents, are you looking for artists who are attuned to their surroundings?
Mari Robles: Headlands supports artists who are at an inflection point in their careers. This means they are primed to explore a promising new direction or idea, and that the space, time, resources, and affirmation we offer them will help them plunge deeper into themselves and their work than they might anywhere else. We essentially want to incubate their next artistic incarnation and give them what they need to bring their creative practice to the next level. One of the most beautiful aspects of our residency program is that we have artists from all disciplines from all over the world—from visual artists to writers, dancers to performers, and musicians, all with a mindset of tinkering and exchange. What they share with each other and those who visit their studios—particularly during our Open House events—is often raw and vulnerable. In my mind, seeing a work of art take shape is a defining experience at Headlands. Anyone and anything here can be a catalyst toward a real creative breakthrough.
Currently, VictoriaShen, an experimental sound artist from the Bay, is in residency in our Project Space. She’s making instruments using kites, her body, and obsolete technology, and opens her studio five days a week for everyone to see.
Studio AHEAD: Do you do your own creative work? Or are you more of an organizer/director?
Mari Robles: I did play violin in my twenties, but these days, I’m an avid art lover, supporter, and leader who practices creativity every day in my personal and professional life. I’m not an artist, but I believe in the transformative power of creativity and have seen my life become richer and more meaningful whenever I approach a situation through the lens of possibility and worldmaking.
Studio AHEAD: Speaking of worldmaking, what are some areas—a neighborhood, a favorite vista—that have most delighted you since moving here? 
Mari Robles: In Marin, I recently discovered the Pelican Inn by Muir Beach, and I cannot get enough of the cozy atmosphere and delicious meals. I also frequent Sandrino’s in Sausalito and just love their pizzas, wine selection, and tremendously warm hospitality. And any time I need to be replenished, I take a drive to Hawk Hill; it’s humbling to see the beauty of San Francisco from that distance and then turn towards the vastness of the Pacific Ocean.
Over in the city, going to see a talk at City Arts has become one of my favorite things to do. I really enjoy the range of critical conversations they organize.
Lastly, I’ve also seen a few amazing concerts at the Fox Theater in Oakland—Grace Jones, Nils Frahm—followed by some of the most delicious street food. I love the energy and living of those moments. 
Studio AHEAD: Thank you, Mari!
Photos by Ekaterina Izmestieva
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#25 - And Vast Herds of Wild Camaro Will Once Again Roam the Plains
Coyote and Big Hat stroll up Charleston Boulevard, under the railroad bridge, under the interstate highway, and up the long, gradual climb that, block by block, traces the stages of expansion in what has been for decades America's fastest-growing city. Las Vegas often gets left off published lists of fastest-growing cities. The reason is simple. Nobody looks at it. Not urban planning specialists, anyway. Las Vegas isn't important like Dallas or Denver or Seattle. Las Vegas isn't serious.
Las Vegas is also the fastest-warming city in America. Several of Coyote's contemporaries know this for fact. Even the regular folks are catching on.
Coyote and Big Hat have switched from Frappuccinos to Big Gulps. Big Hat is getting the hang of the straw thing.
They have admired Lucite antiques, bronze and iron sculpture, and the new muscle cars recently resurrected by the automobile industry. They whiz by, flashing license plates with letters and numbers arranged to express the theme FNALL3Y and ATLAST1.
"Oh, look!" Says Big Hat, pointing, "DR3MB1G."
"Good thought," says Coyote. A much less flashy car emerges from the side street that runs behind the Omelet House. There's a redheaded woman driving, with two older male passengers. "Look," Coyote says, pointing just like his companion, "Two old white guys in the car and they’re letting the woman drive!"
Big Hat slurps his Big Gulp. One eyebrow is raised in query.
"Definitely a sign of the apocalypse," Coyote explains.
Big Hat nods and they continue to stroll up the Boulevard.
"Also," Coyote adds, "Those were dead white guys."
Big Hat stops strolling.
“You having any weird food cravings?” Coyote asks.
“I said I was sorry about your ass. How was I supposed to know?”
“No, I mean weird. Like – I don’t know – brains, for instance?”
Big Hat gives this some thought. “I could really go for some gizzards,” he offers.
Coyote shakes his head. Big Hat shrugs. Strolling resumes.
"Tell me what you saw again," Coyote prompts, "When you died and came back. The first time, I mean."
"I saw everything," Big Hat says. "God told me not to be an asshole, and to dance. We should not be assholes and we should dance."
"Huh," says Coyote. "What did God look like?"
Big Hat sucks up the last of the soda so that the straw makes a gurgling sound in the ice. He does that a few more times, pausing each time to stare at the cup, fascinated. "I don't remember," he says at last. Then he points and says, "Woman driving truck!"
Coyote looks. The woman is alone, with no white male passengers. "She's alone," he says, "Not a sign of the apocalypse."
"Then who is she talking to?" Big Hat asks.
The woman appears to be having an animated conversation with herself. Coyote hears the words, “…Are you going to let me finish? Are you going to let me finish what I was --? Yes, you did interrupt --. I didn’t --. You only think I interrupted you because I wouldn’t stop in the middle of a sentence to let you take over the conversation. Yes, it is true. I have an app on my phone that tracks the number of times male voices – NUMBER OF TIMES male voices interrupt me. Hell, yes, I do. I can give you exact numbers with dates and times. Try me. I dare you. Speaking of which, you need to pull out that contract you signed and check out Section H, subsections b, c, and d. It’ll be on about the fifth page. Of course I’m sure. How do I know? You want to know how I know what’s in your scope of work? Because I wrote your scope of work. That’s how I know what’s in your scope of work. I wrote the words in it. Put all the letters and marks of punctuation in there with my delicate little hands, too. So you’re going to do some light reading and have the specified epoxy grout out to the site at 6am tomorrow morning, along with a tinted sample for the designer to approve in the field…”
"Probably singing," Coyote says. "We have much more music than we used to have."
"Good for the dancing, then," Big Hat observes. "Where do we piss in this hellhole?" He looks around. There are few trees. Everything appears to be a dwelling. Dark-skinned people have made their camps in the shade of the highway overhead. It is rude to piss on someone's camp. That would be the definition of asshole.
But Coyote is not paying attention. He can hear what the woman is saying, and she isn't singing.
"Crying. Crying!" She growls, "Do you know how much terror it takes to make a Mexican welder cry?"
"What about the part with the hoops?" Coyote asks, dreamily, still caught in the momentary distraction of fervent, welder-related prayers that are, for some reason, directed to himself.
"What hoops?"
"Weren't there hoops?"
"Maybe you're thinking of some other prophet," Big Hat says.
"White men driven from the Earth? Earth rolls up like a blanket and they all disappear?"
"How would that work, do you think?"
"Dead ancestors coming back to life after seven generations?"
"Sorry." Big Hat takes the top off of his Big Gulp and drinks the melted water/soda from the bottom of the cup. The ice falls forward in a fused mass and smacks him in the face.
"You know, if I saw God," Coyote observes, "What he looks like is the thing I would remember best, probably."
"Don't be an asshole," Big Hat replies.
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ao3tagoftheday · 4 years
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[Image Description: Tag reading “Canon is a native song bird and I’m a house cat about to take it apart and use all the juicy bits”]
The AO3 Tag of the Day is: As long as you don't leave the carcass on my doorstep
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samwisethewitch · 3 years
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The Little Gods: Spirits of Place in Modern Paganism
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In a previous post, we talked about gods, goddesses, and the many ways they can be worshiped in a modern pagan practice. However, the gods are not the only group of spiritual beings honored by modern pagans. While building relationships with deities makes up the bulk of practice for many people, a lot of pagans work with other groups of spirits as well, or may even work more closely with these “smaller” spirits than with the gods. One of these groups is the ancestors, the spirits of deceased humans who are part of our lineage — we’ll talk about them in a future post.
The other group of minor spirits commonly honored by modern pagans, and the topic of today’s post, are what I like to call the Spirits of Place. This is a broad category that includes land spirits, spirits of natural objects like trees and rivers, and spirits of man-made locations like a house or office building. Depending on your personal beliefs, it may also include animal guides, spirits of inanimate objects, and/or spirits honored in specific cultures like the fairies or the elves.
The idea that the world around us is spiritually alive and aware is present in some form in almost every culture and religion, and the worship of these Spirits of Place is well-documented in most historic pagan religions. For example, much of Irish folk spirituality revolves around appeasing the fairies, which we can understand as a special type of land spirit — this continued long after the conversion period, even after the worship of the Irish gods had faded into obscurity. Many Norse pagans honor the landvaettir (land spirits) and husvaettir (house spirits), which have survived in more recent Nordic folklore in the form of spirits like the Danish nisse or Swedish tomte, who are still honored at Christmas in some parts of Scandinavia. In Roman paganism, the lares, who are both land spirits and the guardians of man-made homes and are closely connected to the ancestors, are given a place of honor. Eclectic pagans may pull from one or more of these practices, or may honor their local spirits in their own unique way.
Honoring the Spirits of Place is not exclusive to pagan faiths. Practitioners of New Orleans Voodoo honor the ashe, the sacred energy, of the Mississipi River, one of their most prominent local landmarks. In Shinto, places and objects are said to have their own kami, which can be understood as gods or as spirits. Even in Christianity’s strictly monotheist system, God is often understood to be physically present in the world around us, a philosophy known as panentheism. I offer these non-pagan examples not because I think pagans should copy these other religions, but because I want to make a point about how pervasive the belief in Spirits of Place really is.
Connecting with the Spirits of Place can help us to engage more mindfully and in more meaningful ways with the world around us. When we accept that every plant, animal, rock, and building has its own spirit or soul, we interact with those objects in a more intentional way. We learn to think about our home not just as a place where we live, but as a spiritual entity that we have an active relationship with. We learn to think of our gardens not as a plot of dirt filled with plants, but as a community of land spirits and plant spirits all working together to provide us with nourishment. We learn to think of our cities not as concrete jungles, but as huge collections of spirits as diverse and fascinating as their human inhabitants. When we open our eyes to the spiritual world that exists alongside our own, we begin to see how the spiritual permeates every aspect of human life.
Connecting with Spirits of Place also offers a way for us to personalize and localize our practice. The Spirits of Place in Los Angeles will be very different from those of Brooklyn, Berlin, or Mexico City. Your local Spirits of Place are closely related to your local biome, as well as to the cultural groups that have influenced your community.
Because of this, the best way to connect with your own Spirits of Place is to learn about where you live. Research your local flora, fauna, and weather patterns — how is your ecosystem unique? Learn about local history and about the cultures who have influenced your area. All of these influences will give you some ideas for how to honor the spirits in your practice.
For example, I live in a temperate climate with four true seasons, clay-based soil, and lots of rain and humidity. Some of the local plant spirits that I feel closest to are the black locust tree, the magnolia tree, poke weed, and the birch tree. Some of the local animal spirits I feel closest to are the crow, the red-tailed hawk, the coyote, and the white-tailed deer. My local land spirits are as steadfast and strong as the nearby Appalachian mountains.
I live in the South, so our local spirits are also shaped by a history of racial oppression and persecution. They have witnessed the displacement of the Cherokee people, whose stolen land I live on today. They have witnessed the transatlantic slave trade and the continued oppression of Black people with Jim Crow and the rise of the Ku Klux Klan. They have witnessed devastating poverty in rural communities, including those of my ancestors. These scars run deep, creating a reverberations that I and other Southern folks still feel today. However, with the trauma of the South comes a rich diversity of influences, creating a unique culture unlike any other in the world. My Irish and Scottish ancestors brought their culture with them when they came to these mountains, where it mingled with the cultural influences of our Black and Latino neighbors, the Cherokee influences of our land, a deeply held Protestant Christian faith, and a special brand of magic that is unique to the South. All of this influences my local Spirits of Place, and I try to keep all of it in mind when interacting with them.
I honor my Spirits of Place by learning to identify local plants, respectfully and ethically foraging from those plants, and using them in my spiritual practice. I honor them by feeding the crows, and by greeting the deer when I encounter them on walks. I honor them by remembering the original inhabitants of this land, by supporting Native rights activists, and by donating to nonprofits that support the Eastern Band of the Cherokee, who originally lived in my area. I honor them by actively working to address the issue of racism in the South, up to and including attending Black Lives Matter protests and campaigning for an end to racialized police violence. I honor them by listening to my Cherokee, Black, and Latino neighbors and following their lead on Cherokee, Black, and Latino issues. I also honor them by practicing sustainable gardening techniques, working to lower my environmental impact, and by giving back to the land whenever I can.
If you don’t live in the same geographic area as me, the way you honor your Spirits of Place may look totally different. Don’t be afraid to make this practice your own — once you connect with your local spirits, they will be your guides.
Types of Spirits of Place
There are many, many types of spirits that fall into this category, and the list in this post is not meant to be exhaustive. My goal here is to give you an idea of some of the forms these spirits can take, so that you can begin to recognize the Spirits of Place that surround you in your own life.
Land spirits: These are spirits of specific geographical locations or features of the land. They may be as big as the Mississippi River or as small as the rosebush in your backyard. As you might imagine, these spirits don’t move around much, as they usually don’t venture far from the location they are tied to. In my experience, land spirits have a very stable, steady, and earthy presence.
Our relationship with the land spirits is a direct reflection of our relationship with the land itself. If we live our lives in a way that hurts the land by polluting it or stripping it of resources, it will be much harder to build a healthy relationship with the spirits of that land. The best way to live in right relationship with the land spirits is to treat the land you are living on with honor and respect.
In my personal practice, I call on the land spirits for help in my garden. I make offerings of food that is safe for local wildlife if they decide to help themselves, such as unsalted peanuts, birdseed, bread, or fresh fruit. When I make offerings, I make sure to thank the land spirits for sharing their home with me and for providing me with abundance. You might honor your local land spirits in a similar way, or you may find that another approach works better for you.
House spirits: It is not only natural places that have spirits — man-made buildings also have a spirit of their own. If you’ve ever stayed in a very old house, you probably felt its unique character while you were there. Every building has its own soul of sorts, which embodies the place, the way it is used, and the different people who have lived there. In my experience, these spirits tend to take on the energy of the people who live in or frequently use their building — the spirits of a happy home may have a kind, friendly presence, while the spirits of a dysfunctional business where employees are mistreated may have a mean streak.
Many of us overlook the spiritual importance of our homes. Our home is where we can be most vulnerable, and in most cases it’s probably where most of our daily spiritual practices take place. Our home is the base of operations we come back to at the end of each day. A home that feels safe, comfortable, and welcoming is important to our mental, emotional, and spiritual health. To maintain a healthy home, we need to maintain good relationships with the other people living there — but we can take this even further by striving to have a good relationship with our home itself.
Spirits of objects: Objects also have their on spirits. This applies not only to naturally occurring objects, but to man-made things as well.
Most people with even a passing interest in witchcraft or New Age spirituality are aware that crystals have unique energies and personalities and can act as spiritual allies. What many people don’t realize is that this is not something that is unique to crystals — all objects have a unique spiritual presence, and all of them can be powerful spiritual allies if you take the time to connect with them. A rock from your backyard can be just a powerful as an expensive crystal. So can a favorite sweater, your grandmother’s antique dishes, and even your cell phone.
The best way to connect with the spirits of objects is to talk to them. Tell them that you appreciate the role they serve in your life, and verbally thank them for their help. I find that these spirits don’t typically require offerings in the traditional sense — instead, you can practice reciprocity by keeping their homes in good condition. For example, if you want to connect with the spirit of a favorite stuffed animal, make sure the toy itself stays clean and in good repair.
Plant and animal spirits: Plant and animal spirits are different from spirits of objects because they are physically alive. Plants and animals live and breathe just as we do, which can make them a little easier to befriend and understand than the spirits of inanimate objects. If you’re not quite ready to start talking to your hairbrush, plant and animal spirits can be a good place to start.
Animal spirits are the easiest by far to connect with. Any pet owner will tell you that animals have souls that often seem just as complex as those of humans. Dogs and cats, for example, clearly feel love, joy, sadness, and pain just as humans do. Pets are an excellent way to begin connecting with animal spirits, because you already have a relationship with them in the physical world.
Next time you have a few minutes alone with your pet, try meditating on their spiritual presence. Can you feel their energy? Can you sense the wisdom they carry in their soul?
If you had a pet that died, you might try reaching out to them to see if they want to be involved in your spiritual practice. Dogs especially are very loyal to their owners, and can be called on for protection even after death. If you have ashes or bones from your pet, or if you have items like a collar or a favorite toy, you can include them on an altar or some other special place and make regular offerings of treats or pet food in exchange for their protection.
Some pagans, especially Wiccans and other neopagans, choose to work with familiars, which are a special kind of animal ally. There is a common misconception that a familiar is any animal you feel especially close to, but that isn’t quite how it works. A familiar is an animal that serves as a spiritual ally — traditionally, by helping witches with their magic. The familiar can be a living animal, but it is more often a purely spiritual being.
These animal spirit allies exist in other forms in other pagan religions. In Norse paganism, the fylgja is a spiritual guide that often appears in the form of an animal. The animal form the fylgja takes is closely related to the personality of the person it is attached to, and they are often tied to that person’s fate. In Irish folklore, the fetch is a spiritual double of a human that often appears as an animal. In Kemetic polytheism, one of the parts of the soul is the ba, which often appears as a bird with a human head and which represents a person’s personality. In all of these cases, the animal guide can be understood as an extension of the practitioner, rather than as a separate being like the familiar.
Plant spirits are a little bit different. In my experience, these spirits are quieter and more reserved than most animal spirits, and they tend to work in more subtle ways. Plant spirits are still, steadfast allies that tend to work behind the scenes, so you may not have as many face-to-face interactions with them as you do with animals or land spirits.
The best way to begin connecting with plant spirits is to start keeping a houseplant. As you care for your plant, talk to it! Tell it how much you appreciate it, and thank it for its contribution to keeping your space beautiful and safe. Appropriate offerings for plant spirits are exactly what you would expect: water, fertilizer, and plant food.
Cryptids and folkloric creatures: In the modern era, folklore has given way to urban legends and created a new kind of mythology. Like traditional folklore, urban legends are spread by word of mouth and change organically as they are told and retold. Many urban legends are tied to specific locations, and many of them feature strange and mysterious creatures who can be understood as modern land spirits.
For example, the Loch Ness Monster can be seen as the spirit of Loch Ness. The Jersey Devil is tied to the Pine Barrens in New Jersey. Mothman is tied to Point Pleasant, West Virginia. Although these are some of the most famous modern cryptids, most towns have their own urban legends — if you ask around, you’ll likely find stories of some kind of spectral guardian tied to your area. My college campus has a handful of its own urban legends, including one of a female spirit who appears to warn students of coming disasters. Find out who your local cryptids are, and look for ways to incorporate them into your practice.
These different types of spirits are sometimes filtered through different cultural lenses, which changes the way they interact with humans. For example, an Irish fairy is very different from a Japanese kami, even though both technically fall into the larger category of land spirits. If you feel drawn to a specific tradition’s approach to working with the Spirits of Place, I advise you to do your own research into that tradition — including making sure that it isn’t part of a closed cultural practice which you are not party to. Look for sources written by members of the living culture of that tradition, rather than books written by outsiders.
Connecting with the Spirits of Place
Here are some activities you can do to strengthen your connection with the Spirits of Place:
Make offerings. As I mentioned above, you can honor the spirits with offerings. Just make sure that, if you leave offerings outside, you only offer things that are biodegradable and are safe for local wildlife. If you don’t want to leave physical offerings, you can offer acts of service like picking up litter, watering plants, or volunteering at an animal shelter.
Create an altar. Altars are an excellent way to create space in your life for the spirits. My herb garden doubles as an altar to the land spirits, with a small Green Man statue to represent the spirits and a place where I can leave offerings. I also have a table indoors where I keep most of my houseplants, which is also a sacred space of sorts. The type of altar you create and its location will depend on the spirits you want to connect with — the possibilities are limitless.
Start a compost pile. Compost piles make excellent offerings to land spirits and plant spirits. While compost isn’t quite as simple as “just throw all your leftover food in a pile,” it’s not difficult if you know what you are doing. When composting, it’s important to maintain a balance between carbon-rich “brown” material (leaves, undyed paper, cardboard, etc.) and nitrogen-rich “greens” (fruit and veggie scraps, coffee grounds, egg shells, etc.) — you want about four times as much brown as green in your compost. There are some things you shouldn’t add to your compost, like meat, dairy products, and greasy foods. Start your compost with a layer of brown material — preferably twigs or straw to allow good airflow. Alternate layers of green and brown materials as you add to the pile. Every time you add to your compost, verbally express your gratitude to the land spirits. Your compost should be moist, but not soggy — you’ll know it’s ready when it’s dark and crumbly and smells like soil. Use it on your garden and in your houseplant pots, or donate it to a local community garden.
Hold a territory acknowledgement. A territory acknowledgement is a way to insert awareness of indigenous people whose lands were stolen from them. You can acknowledge indigenous territory at the beginning of public religious events, or at the beginning of your private rituals. This practice will help you develop a deeper understanding of the history of your land, which can help deepen your connection to it as well as honoring its original inhabitants. A territory acknowledgement can be as simple as: “I acknowledge and honor this land, which is called [indigenous name of your area] and is home to the people of [indigenous nation].” Make sure you take the time to learn the correct pronunciation for these indigenous words. You can find out who originally lived in your area and what they called it by visiting native-land.ca.
Donate to conservation efforts. Instead of making physical offerings, make a donation to an environmentalist cause and dedicate it to your Spirits of Place. Look for groups that work in your local area, such as nonprofits dedicated to fighting deforestation and climate change, groups that protect rare and endangered native plants, or wildlife rehabilitation centers. Even volunteering at an animal shelter can be an appropriate offering to animal spirits.
Start a garden with native plants. Do some research into your local ecosystem — what plants are native to your area? Which of them are edible? Which of them have spiritual uses? Buy or forage seeds from these plants and start a 100% native garden. Growing and eating food that is native to your area can help deepen your connection to the land, the local plant spirits, and the cycle of the seasons.
Replace mainstream cleansing herbs with native plants. White sage, palo santo, frankincense, and sandalwood, some of the most popular cleansing herbs among modern pagans, are all endangered due to over-harvesting. Instead of buying endangered plants from far off lands, try to find a native plant you can use instead. If you’re lucky enough to live somewhere where rosemary or lavender is native, you’re in luck! If not, try researching some of the plants in your backyard — you might be surprised what you find. Most plants in the Salvia (sage) family can be burned as incense to cleanse and consecrate a space. This family includes over 1,000 species spread out over Europe, Asia, and the Americas. Many trees also have cleansing properties, especially coniferous trees like pine, cedar, and juniper. Find out what is abundant in your area and find ways to incorporate it into your rituals.
Go for a hike. While bringing the Spirits of Place into our homes can be deeply meaningful, it’s also important to get out there and meet them on their own terms. Try to make time to get out in nature, and be open to connecting with the spirits you find on these trips. You don’t have to go far — even hanging out in a backyard or city park can allow you to connect with the land.
Feed the birds. And the squirrels, and the deer, or whatever other critters you have. Now, I am not recommending approaching wild animals and trying to befriend them. I am also not recommending feeding animals people food. Nature often rests in a delicate balance, and directly feeding wild animals can make them dependent on humans, which could be dangerous for them. While feeding local animals can be an excellent offering, it’s important to do it in a way that is safe and non-instrusive. It’s best to leave food in a place you know is frequented by animals, then let them find it after you’ve gone. Bird feeders and squirrel feeders are a great way to do this.
Clean your house. One of the best ways to honor house spirits? Keep their living space clean! Try to keep your house tidy and be a good roommate to its spirits. Try not to let clutter pile up, and take time to sweep, mop, and dust every once in a while. You can even ask your house spirits to help you keep the house clean — just make sure you’re also doing your fair share of housework, or they may get upset about the unfair arrangement.
These “little gods” of places and objects are often forgotten, but they are an important part of daily pagan practice. While the gods rule over grand concepts and forces of nature, and the ancestors are tied to our family and community, the Spirits of Place make up the ground we stand on, the air we breathe, and the places we call home. Perhaps more than any other group of spirits, they are truly the gods of the everyday.
Resources:
Water Magic by Lilith Dorsey
Southern Cunning by Aaron Oberon
Simply Living Well by Julia Watkins
The Way of Fire and Ice by Ryan Smith
A Practical Heathen’s Guide to Asatru by Patricia M. Lafayllve
Where the Hawthorn Grows by Morgan Daimler
Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner by Scott Cunningham
Temple of the Cosmos by Jeremy Naydler
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An Offer
Warnings: coercion, threats, slightly blackmail-ish, intimidation, entrapment, implied noncon
This is dark!(lumberjack/nomad) Steve Rogers and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Steve makes you an offer you can’t refuse.
Based on this drabble request:
Nomad Steve Rogers + “You'll never find anyone better than me.” + Lumberjack AU + Smashed and broken dreams of a good career forces reader back home. With a degree in her hand but no real chance of finding a good job reader has to accept any job she finds and Steve isn’t making it easy cause he wants her so he sabotages any job opportunity to make her depended on him. This really hits home 😭. Sorry 😭.
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When you sat in your college lectures, you never expected to end up there. Never expected to be carrying armfuls of wood to a large stack, splinters catching in your gloves as each piece clacked between the noise of the logs being split. You didn’t expect to be working for pennies, busting your ass for hours, just to pay for the room above the liquor store in your hometown.
You didn’t expect any of it. It was a surreal nightmare. It was as if that purgatory could never let you go. The small town’s always claimed what was theirs. Blood grown of that soil could not venture far before the roots dragged them back, a constricting coil around the throat.
Another log split, almost exploding as the two halves fell on either side of the stump. Steve took one and chopped it again, then the other. Perfect quarters for you to pile in your arms and add to the mounting stack. Your sweat soaked the flannel coat, the same kind your father wore when you were a child, the same that everyone in town seemed to have somewhere in their closets.
Steve rested the head of the axe on the stump and leaned on it as he watched you.
“Think that’ll do,” he said as you heard him scratch his beard, “supposed to be a mild winter.”
“Mild? Around here? You know that just means the snow stops at the knee, right?”
You carried the last of the wood to the pile and laid it out in the niches perfectly. It was like a Tetris game, every piece had its place. You clapped off your gloves and looked back at Steve as he shook out his jacket and pulled it back on. Even as his work left him sweaty, you didn’t know how he could stand to take it off and bear the bitter winds in only a tee.
“My knees are higher than yours,” he said, “think I’ll be fine.”
“Uh huh,” you put your hands on your hips and looked out at the trees, the sun setting behind them in an amber haze.
“Hey,” he interrupted your sightseeing, “how about you stay for dinner? I finally tried that chili recipe…”
“You? Cooking?” you shook your head, “so that’s why I’m out here lugging wood.”
“Is that yes?”
“Do you have pepto?” you joked, “sure, guess I could. Save me the trouble of opening a can at home.”
You followed him inside as he held the door for you. You shoved your gloves in your flannel pocket and hung it as you wiggled out of your boots. Usually you tidied and did the household chores as Steve worked outside. It wasn’t much of a job but there was nothing to be had in the lifeless town. Still, even with the work you found in the city, you couldn’t afford even a closet to live in.
The house was nice, big. The country land was cheap and as Steve told it, he built the entire thing himself. It was a wooden castle with better amenities than most of the antique houses in town. He bragged about how he chose every countertop and cut down every leg of every chair and sanded and polished the thick table over a willowy fall.
But you wondered how he ended up there. He wasn’t from the town and his accent was not of the nearby metropolis. He must be from far away. You could see it was an escape from the life he didn’t talk about.
You sat at the table as he clinked around in the kitchen. He came out with two red bowls and set one before you as he sat at the corner near you. He handed you a spoon with a wooden handle and you twirled it as you watched the chili steam.
“Did you make these too?” you asked.
“Ha,” he said dryly and stirred his bowl.
“Well…” you shrugged and looked around.
He smiled at you and leaned his head back until his neck cracked. He let his spoon rest and rubbed his jaw. It twitched and he looked out the big bay windows of the dining room, the ridged bark and overgrown grass staring back.
“I…” he shifted and leaned on the arm of the chair, “I slipped your pay in your jacket.”
“Oh, thanks,” you were embarrassed to talk about money. He knew how little you made even if he did pay you generously for the work you did.
“But… I did want to talk about it, er, about…” he sighed and rested his chin in his hand as he traced his lower lip in thought. He sat up and cleared his throat, “we get along, don’t we?”
“Sure,” you blew on a spoonful and tasted the chili. It was spicy but not bad.
“I know how hard it’s been, Maggie, Lester, Jeff… tough break.”
You swallowed and sat back. You frowned. “How did you…” your resume had been turned down by almost every business owner and manager in town.
“It’s a small place, like that box you’re living in.”
“Steve--”
“I’m not saying it to embarrass you but… because I… want to…” he gripped his spoon, thought about having a bite, then let it go again, “I want to make you an offer.”
“You pay me more than you should for doing your chores,” you left your spoon in the bowl and ran your nails up and down your jeans, picking at the little metal snap by the pocket.
“That’s not--” he squared his shoulders and all humour left his face. He bit down and the vein in his head surged, “you could live here. The place is more than big enough… lonely.”
“I can’t--”
“Please, just listen,” he raised his palms, “I’m lonely and you’re in a bind. We could help each other.”
You squinted and shook your head. He took a breath and leaned forward. He reached under the table and touched your knee. He slid his hand up your thigh until it met yours and you stopped him.
“What--”
“You don’t even have to keep on cleaning or any of that,” he said quietly, “just be mine. You’ll be comfortable here. All you have to do is… be here… with me.”
“Steve,” you held onto his thick fingers, “maybe you don’t mean it that way but I’m not… not a prostitute.”
“It wouldn’t be that,” his throat constricted, “it would be convenient; practical.”
“I should go,” you shoved his hand off of you and stood, “you did a good job with the chili.”
The chair scraped behind you as you stepped out from between it and the table. Steve was fast and caught your shoulder before you could evade him.
“Go where? Do what exactly?” his voice was stern and stolid, “huh? No one in town’s gonna hire you, we both know that. And you can’t make it in the city.”
“That’s mean, Steve, I want to go,” you pouted, “let me go.”
“Why can’t you see I’m helping you?”
“You have helped me but what you’re… offering is insulting, don’t you understand?”
“It’s generous is what I’d say,” he grabbed your other arm and pulled you close as he snarled down at you, “I can give you everything you need and want, all you have to do is give me…” his eyes crawled down your body, “a little sweetness.”
“Steve--”
“You’re proud, I get it, you don’t want to admit you have no choice but what happens when Fletcher needs that room for storage or he rents it out to a higher bidder? Where do you go then? Huh, you keep handing out that resume and what has that degree got you but sorrys and no thank yous?”
“Get off--” you pushed on his chest as he squeezed your arms painfully.
“Let me tell you I will be the only yes you ever get,” he growled, “I made sure of it.”
“Wha-- I--”
“I’m not driving you back to town,” he released you, “so if you really wanna go, if your pride is worth all that, you can walk and see if you beat the wolves. Or you can stay and earn that extra bill I put in your pocket.”
“Steve, what the hell?”
“Your call,” his fingers stretched around the waist of his jeans as he flexed his chest, “reception’s shit so good luck getting a ride.”
“You can’t--”
“Let me make this easy for you. Walk and see if you make it home, stay and you’re already home.”
You searched his face. You’d never seen this side of him. You blinked and spun on your heel. Fuck him. You’d drive yourself and he could tell the police you stole his truck. You ran to the front door and snatched his keys from the hook. You bent to grab your boots but his hand on the back of your neck stopped you. 
He wrenched you back and tossed you against the wall. The keys tumbled to the floor and he kicked them away, “no cheating,” he said, “you wanna go then?”
Before you could answer the high whine of a coyote cut through the air and the glass slats of the front door dimmed. You faced him and your heart beat wildly.
“Why?”
“You going?” he asked again.
“Steve--”
“Well?”
“You can’t do this,” you pleaded, “keep your money then. Just take me home.”
“No,” he marched towards you and pinned you by your neck against the wall. His hand threatened to stifle your breath as he leaned in, “go or stay?”
You batted away tears with your lashes. You turned your head as far as you could whimpered as the sky continued to darken through the marbled glass, “Steve.”
“Go or stay?” he rasped as his breath tickled your cheek.
You trembled and touched his wrist. He squeezed just a little and you gasped, “and if I get lost? If I die out there?”
His lips curved and he chuckled lightly, “you willing to take that risk?”
You watched him, looking for any crack in his veneer, looking for an ounce of the man who’d been your godsend in that desolate town. He wasn’t there. It had all been an act, a trick. He had you in his snare like any good hunter.
“What choice do I have?” you whispered.
He pressed his forehead to yours and his large nose brushed against the tip of yours, “I’m not that bad,” his other hand crept along your stomach, “you’ll see that,” he played with the ribbed cotton, “you'll never find anyone better than me.”
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strangunddurm · 3 years
Text
The Cabin
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Masterlist
Pairing: Clyde Logan x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.8k
Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, self pleasure, fingering, masturbation, alcohol consumption.
Please accept my offering of my vision of mountain man Clyde.
A hike in the woods was meant to calm your mind and let you focus on yourself for a while; a sort of cheap alternative to going to a spa. However, you were anything but relaxed, and focused on everything except just yourself.
You were lost. Despite spending hours on YouTube trying to learn how to navigate, you had still taken the wrong turn and didn’t notice until it was too late. Thankfully it was the beginning of autumn, so it was still warm outside, and you didn’t need to start worrying about getting cold just yet, despite the sun slowly descending across the horizon.
The crappy phone which you had insisted didn’t need replacing had died long before you realized just how lost you were. You had a particularly bad habit of never charging your phone and it was coming back to bite you in the ass.
You had taken a, supposedly, easy trail. ‘Beginner friendly’ was the description your friend had given you when you asked for tips. You were cursing them mentally in your mind now, their definition of ‘beginner friendly’ was obviously vastly different from yours.
It had been hours, or at least it felt like it. You were steadily making your way through the granola bars you had packed. Your version of survivor mode consisted of trying to eat everything you could see due to anxiety, instead of saving it in case you’d be out here for hours.
It was the same rock you had passed a while back, you were sure of it, convinced that you were officially just walking in one big circle.
You hadn’t seen anyone else out on the trails which were surprising.; you figured trails were usually always packed with curious adventurers.
The snap of a branch pulled you out of your inner monologue, causing you to freeze and your heart to painfully contract in fear. You were sure that this was the moment you would die; a rabid coyote was surely bound to attack you at any moment. Were there even coyotes in West Virginia? You didn’t want to find out.
Turning around to see what it was that had made the sound wasn’t an option in your mind, it really wasn’t. Turning around would, in your mind, mean that you were accepting being mauled to death and despite your sometimes negative output you wanted to live for a while longer.
“Please, please, please don’t be a coyote… pleas-“ You let out a loud scream as a hand grabbed onto your shoulder, instinctively jabbing your elbow back to connect with the somewhat soft stomach of someone who was very much not a wild and crazed animal.
Whoever was behind you let out a low ‘ouff’ sound from your attack but did not seem overly affected otherwise.
“Sorry!” It was a man’s voice, judging from the deep tone of it. You whirled around whilst simultaneously attempting to take a step backwards, resulting in you falling to the ground ungracefully. There was definitely no chance you could run away from him now if he turned out to be less than friendly.
“Who are you?” You shuffled back against the ground, trying to put some distance between the two of you in naïve hope. The stranger, noticing your distress, put his hands out in front of him whilst taking a few steps back, increasing the distance between the two of you.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare ye.” You surveyed him sceptically as he apologized. He looked like he was a nice person, but that only went so far, anyone had the ability to look nice. He blended into your surroundings, lacking the bright colours you were wearing; it was obvious that he did not share in your desire to want to be seen. He also looked like he was much more used to the woods than you were (not that it was hard).
“Are ye okay?” His question made you realize that you hadn’t replied, and you were still lying there like a seal on the ground. You stumbled up onto your feet with a huff, grabbing a stick that was laying by your hand just as you thrust yourself up.
It was a small stick, definitely incapable of causing serious bodily harm but you hoped that if you were desperate enough, it could poke out an eye. Or at least scratch it.
You held it out in front of you, wielding it like a sword. It was hard not to miss the smile that flew across the stranger’s face. You were most likely a funny sight, a flustered and oblivious city girl waving a twig. But you felt like King Arthur waving Excalibur and that was all that mattered. One lonely girl pumped full of adrenaline could do a lot of damage with a twig and a mean right hook.
“What do you want?” You spat. A tiny voice inside of you told you that you were being ridiculous. Here he was, a nice man probably just concerned over seeing you wander through the woods, obviously lost, so close to nightfall. But the devil on your other shoulder told you to trust no man, to kick him where the sun doesn’t shine and take off like a bat out of hell.
“I just wanted to see if ye were okay; it gets cold out here at night.” He still had his hands up like he was getting arrested. You considered his words carefully. You weren’t okay, you hadn’t planned on staying out until nightfall. All you were going to do was hike to the top of the mountain and go back down, but apparently, you were too incompetent to even perform that simple task.
“I called out a couple of times, but ye didn’t seem to hear me.”
“Oh,” You dropped the twig at the revelation. It explained a lot; you were after all notorious for getting lost in your thoughts and turning deaf.
“Sorry.” You said sheepishly as you lowered the stick to your side but still grasped it tightly (just in case). You sent him a small apologetic smile even though you didn’t owe him one.
“So, do ye need help?”
“Hmm…” Did you need help? You glanced around you, surveying your surroundings again. It was a lot closer to dark than you were comfortable with. The granola bars were all gone, you didn’t have anything warmer on than the fleece jacket you had dug out from the back of your closet. You had no way of contacting anyone and you were not competent enough to build anything close to a working shelter for the night.
You eyed him again as you thought over your answer. He seemed nice enough, he reminded you slightly of a big, burly bear. He was a behemoth of a man, standing tall and wide with dark hair and eyes, but there was some kindness there that made you feel as if you could trust him.
The thing that eventually won you over was his hand, it was obviously a prosthetic now that you were focusing on him. You hoped that a prosthetic hand meant that it was much less likely that he could grab a firm hold on you.
-
Clyde Logan wasn’t a very talkative man. If you were to google ‘mountain man’ he would pop up as one of the image results. The modern version of course, accompanied by the usual camo gear. You had always had a weakness for the lumberjack flannels and the thick moustache that tickled his lips had you wondering what it would look like drenched in your juices.
But it would be stupid attempting to seduce the grumpy man that had saved you from certain death, right?
He knew so much about the woods and the dangers that were surrounding you, making you realize just how stupid you were to be out there alone. But of course, he didn’t offer you all of this information on his own. No, you had to practically force the words out of his mouth, but thankfully you were the Master of Babble, and he was eventually forced to answer if he ever wanted you to shut up.
You were making your way to his cabin that was apparently just over a mile away. Clyde was leading the way with you practically walking on his heels trying to keep up with his long strides and sneaking looks over your shoulder in paranoia to see if anyone was following the two of you.
Clyde had said that it was too late to return to your car seeing how late it was. Apparently, you had walked in the completely wrong direction from the start and were now a couple of miles away from civilization. He had graciously offered you a sleeping spot in his cabin over the night with a promise to help you back first thing in the morning.
It was picturesque, Clyde’s cabin. Nothing less than what you expected of the man, and surprisingly a lot cleaner than what you had assumed from stereotyping.
“This is so cute!” You admired, sending a small smile up to Clyde with a tilt of your head. He almost looked embarrassed over your praise, only responding with a small huff as he took his shoes off and walking toward the kitchen area.
It was a studio type of situation. Everything was in one room: the small kitchenette, tv-area, and makeshift bedroom. Clyde had flipped a switch which turned on a light that illuminated the entire cabin in a soft glow.
“There’s a bathroom over there.” Clyde gestured to a door on the left, and you couldn’t help peaking in. You hadn’t expected a fully functional bathroom at all, seeing how you were in the middle of nowhere but here it was. And you were so grateful. Going potty in the woods was not on your bucket list.
“Are ye hungry? It’s nothin’ much but I have some sandwiches that we can eat.” Clyde ran his fingers through his hair as he asked the question nervously when you came over after your brief tour of the cabin.
“A sandwich would be great, thank you!” You took it gratefully from his hand as he offered it to you before plopping down on the couch.
You were a lot hungrier than you had though. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you unwrapped the sandwich and taking a bite.
“Have you had this for long?” You said after you had finished chewing your first bite, gesturing with your hand wildly to the cabin.
“Couple of years.” Clyde didn’t look at you as he responded, focused intently on his own sandwich.
He left it at that, not elaborating any further and you didn’t want to cross the obvious boundary he had drawn, so you stayed quiet.
You were never good with silence and awkward situations. When others were perfectly comfortable with silence you just had to talk. Googled had diagnosed it as a symptom of anxiety but you had never actually built enough courage up to actually have a evaluation.
“Do you like to read?” You had taken notice of the overflowing bookcase he had. It was hard not to, it was perhaps the biggest piece of furniture he had, spanning the length of an entire wall.
“Mhmm” Honestly, the hums he would do to answer your questions made you soaked.
“What’s your favourite?” He looked as if he was considering your question, leaning back into his seat and looking up at the ceiling for a moment.
“It would have to be In Search for Lost Time by Marcel Proust.”
“I love that book.”
“Is that so?” You nodded your head with wide eyes, happy to have found a subject to talk about. You loved books, yes, but to be honest you had never read that book. But you were hoping you could wing it enough so that Clyde wouldn’t notice.
“What’s your favourite part?” Okay, so maybe you hadn’t thought it through. You couldn’t hide the small wince you did at his question.
It would’ve been better to have said nothing at all, you just really wanted Clyde to like you. You didn’t know why; it wasn’t like you were ever going to see him again. It was just that there was something about him that made you want to kneel and say, ‘please daddy’ and you didn’t know how to get there with someone so reluctant to talk.
“Ye tryin’ to impress me?” He must be a mind reader.
“Oh, no I just-“ You trailed off, unsure over what to say that would not make you seem as desperate.
He stood up, watching you as he made his way around the room, but he wasn’t moving toward you; instead, he disappeared through the front door without a word.
You deflated like a balloon as the door shut behind him, sinking into the cushions and cursing yourself. Why were you so desperate to impress people? The answer was simple because you were you and you had an irrational need for people having to like you.
-
Clyde wasn’t gone for long. He had simply gone out to fill up on the firewood for the fireplace that you had neglected to notice before.
“It’s supposed to get below 30 here tonight.” Was it rude to say that you were impressed with how easily he did things despite only having one hand? It wasn’t that you expected him to not be able to function at all, it’s just that you were barely functioning yourself with two hands.
It had already started getting just a tiny bit colder, enough for you to have curled your legs onto the couch, leaning on the armrest with a blanket thrown over you. The cold was a fiend that you would never get along with.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are ye sorry for?” He looked truly bewildered over your words, stopping what he was doing and looking up at you from his crouched position.
“I shouldn’t have lied.”
“’S okay.” He continued with starting a fire. “We’ve all told a white lie.”
“That’s true, but I’m usually better at playing it off.” You joked and he shared a chuckle with you.
It was cozy once Clyde got the fire started. He turned off the lamp in the ceiling, muttering something about preserving a battery, opting to turn on another by the bed and then settled back down. He was sitting next to you this time, not across from you in the chair as previously. You could practically feel the heat radiating from his skin, he was so close. The couch was small, only a two-seater, but you suppose that he didn’t need much more seeing how he was only one person.
Clyde crowded your personal space. It felt like he was everywhere around you, suffocating you (but in the best way). He slung his arm over the back of the couch, just barely grazing your back. You were surprised with how forward he was being but decided not to question it too much, figuring he might take it wrong and shy away.
“Yer not from ‘round here are ye?”
“Is it so obvious?” Of course, it was obvious. You told him where you lived and there seemed to be a small glint of recognition in his eyes.
“Ye should get a guide next time, one of the rangers will take ye for free.” It was surprising how caring he seemed to be.
“One of the rangers?” You didn’t want a ranger to show you around the next time.
“Mhmm”
“Can’t you take me?” You diverted your eyes from his face as you asked the question, feigning being shy. You let them trace down his sculptured-by-God body, double-checking for a ring on one of his fingers. There was none, or well you assumed that it wasn't a wedding ring. It didn't look like one, it had more of a class ring vibe to it.
Clyde didn’t respond immediately. He was studying you, analyzing every crevice of your face it seemed like.
It was impossible not to get lost in his eyes. You tried really hard not to at first but gave up way too quickly. You wondered if he knew just how attractive he was. He had to have several ladies running after him, desperate for a getaway in his cabin in the woods.
“Do ye want me to?” He finally asked. It was obvious that he had tensed up at your question. His back was rigid, he was sitting as straight as you had ever seen a person sit.
“Maybe…” You were subconsciously leaning closer toward him, inhaling as much of his sent as you could discreetly. It was very vampire-like of you.
He smelled just as you thought he would. Like pine trees. There was just the smallest undertone of sweat and it drove you wild. It wasn’t usually your scent of choice for obvious reasons but on Clyde… On Clyde it was as if he had been doused in some kind of pheromones that made you completely drenched and mad with want.
You thankfully stopped yourself before you could release the moan that was bubbling in your throat. Who in their right mind moaned to a stranger that they hadn’t even touched over the way they smelled? (Only counting people that weren’t high or drunk, of course).
It was a battle getting you to lean away from Clyde again, but the rational part of your brain thankfully won. You had to dig your nails into your thighs, trying to pinch yourself through the fabric of your pants to bring you back to reality and gain some self-control.
“I’ll take you.” He promised with a nod, looking as serious as always. You wondered if he always wore that expression with everyone. You hadn’t been able to coax a lot of smiles out of him, despite categorizing yourself as a fairly hilarious person and having cracked some jokes on the walk to the cabin.
You sent him a small smile in response, feeling relieved not to have been rejected. That would’ve been embarrassing.
He surveyed you for a while more before finally asking if you wanted a drink.
-
The makeshift bar cabinet that he had was surprisingly well-stocked. Too well-stocked for him to be a raging alcoholic. You questioned him curiously about it. Finding out that he was a bartender was a welcomed surprise. You challenged him to make a drink you had never heard of, and he was quick to deliver.
It was delicious, making it easy to pay him compliments over his talent.
“I own a bar, ‘s called Duck Tape.” It was clear that he was proud over his business, with the way his chest seemed to almost swell with his words.
You told him about your own job, not exactly sharing the same enthusiasm seeing how your job was one of the main reasons for why you needed a stress-relieving hike in the first place.
You’d always been a lightweight. It was no secret; you had an uncanny ability to be able to get hammered on one glass of alcohol. Google told you that it could have something to do with your liver, but you did not want to go to the hospital to find out.
You neglected to think about this small fact when you asked Clyde to make you a drink and you were now suffering the consequences. You were drunk, or at least somewhere over the border of tipsy.
Clyde seemed to have relaxed from the alcohol as well. He was much freer in letting a laugh leave his body which had caused you to jump at first in surprise at the boisterous sound.
He had shuffled closer to you, or was it you that had shuffled closer to him? It had happened without either of the two of you noticing but you didn’t try to move away once you did.
You didn’t speak about anything of significance, not really. It was all nonsense, but you never wanted it to stop. Eventually, you mutually decided that sleep was a necessity if you were going to have the energy to get back to your car in the morning.
“Ye can take the bed if ye want.” Clyde motioned over the back of the couch toward the bed in the corner of the room. You glanced over at it, gnawing at your lip as you considered his proposal. Would it be inappropriate to say that you wanted him to share the bed with you?
The bed was too small for it to be shared in any way that wasn’t intimate which was exactly what you wanted.
You assumed that Clyde was as interested in you as you were of him. His hand was dangerously close to your knee as it sat on the seat of the sofa; if he moved his finger less than an inch it would graze your skin.
“Where would you sleep?” You feigned innocent.
“I’ll take the couch.” He knew what you were doing; you could see it in his eyes. They had grown even darker than before and were hooded as they watched you. It was easy to get lost in them, they were the most expressive eyes you had ever seen.
Both of you knew that neither of you would sleep on the couch that night.
There was a flurry of hands and all of a sudden you were in his lap, grinding down, lips connected to one another.
Clyde was a great kisser. Scratch that. He was amazing. He knew exactly how to make you completely drenched from just a few nibbles and strokes of his tongue against your own. He was a natural (Or a player, but you somehow got the impression that he didn’t lure innocent people to his cabin on the regular for a quick lay).
You could feel how hard he was despite the layers separating his bulge from your core. Hard and large and it made you dizzy to think about.
Clyde was taking his time running his hands up and down your waist, his right hand grabbing here and there, never moving under your shirt despite your obvious eagerness. A roll of his hips elicited a moan from you.
Your own hands weren’t shy in their movements; they were grasping onto his broad shoulders, holding on to the fabric as you tried to pull him closer to you.
He separated his lips from yours with a chuckle.
“Eager, are we?” His crooked grin was panty-dropping worthy.
He trailed his lips down your neck before you could reply, suckling gently over your pulse point.
The moan he pulled from you echoed around the room as you tilted your head to the side, allowing him more room to roam.
Your hands tighten their hold on his shoulders. You had always been extra sensitive around the neck and the combination of his lips and the tickle from his moustache was enough to send you into overdrive.
“Clyde…” You breathed out his name shakily, feeling tingles start to travel from your hands and up your arms from the excitement.
He hoisted you up surprisingly quickly from the sofa, causing you to let out a shriek in surprise.
He was strong. Of course, he was strong, you shouldn’t have expected anything else but still…
He carried you toward the bed, setting you down unceremoniously on the edge. You had to grab a hold of the sheet so as not to fall over.
“I want you to strip.” There was no room for arguing in his voice, and it was exactly what you needed. You didn’t want to have to think about your actions.
He was watching you intently, waiting for you to do as you were told, causing you to frantically reach for the zip of your fleece, pulling it down your arms and then throwing it mindlessly away from you.
Your shirt was the next thing that came off. Clyde’s gaze followed as your shirt revealed more and more skin. You didn’t miss the way he bit his lip hungrily.
Your bra wasn’t perhaps the sexiest thing you owned but you weren’t exactly expecting to be in the situation you were when you headed out that morning.
The bra joined the other items a bit slower. You wanted to drag it out; was it mean that you wanted him to have to suffer just a tiny bit?
You were basking in his obvious admiration of your body as you slowly slid the pants down and stepped out of them, leaving you in just your socks and underwear.
Perhaps it wasn’t the sexiest you had ever looked, but it was the sexiest you had ever felt, and that was the important part.
“Panties too.” He had started palming himself through his pants, huffing out small groans of satisfaction here and there. It had made you drenched and you did not doubt that it was obvious to him just how aroused you were.
You were finally standing there in front of him, completely bare, socks and panties having been removed. His eyes ran over every inch and crevice of you that was visible in the low light.
He was still fully dressed, having just unbuttoned his pants so that he could force his hand down to tug at himself.
“I want you to lay down and touch yourself.” Touch yourself? Couldn’t he do it? You opened your mouth to argue but one look from Clyde made you snap your mouth shut again.
The comforter was soft against your skin as you laid down on your back. You were shy as you separated your legs just enough so that you could slip your hand in between your legs.
The first touch was electric. You had never felt such a reaction from simply touching yourself. Sure, you were an expert in getting yourself off, but it never felt quite like this, not this good from so little.
You circled your bud, applying just the right pleasure that caused you to moan. Your eyes fluttered shut involuntarily, getting lost in the feeling building in your belly.
“Open yer eyes.” He had moved closer, a lot closer, with surprising stealth as you hadn’t heard even a low scuffle of feet. His eyes were commanding the attention of your own as he scolded you.
You withdrew your hand automatically from yourself, moving it up to rest on your belly, thinking that he must want you to stop. You were wrong, however, for his eyes snapped down to watch it and he scolded you once again.
“I didn’t tell ye to stop.” He only moved away once more when he was satisfied with your continued movements.
He walked over to the single chair by the living room table, dragging it with him back over to the bed, placing it by the end where he would get just the right view of you working yourself.
He pulled his pants down before sitting down with a huff. He had gone commando. You let out a whimper of need at the sight.
Clyde Logan was the owner of the most perfect cock you had ever seen. It was so heavy that it had barely been able to bob against his stomach, despite his sitting position.
You arched your neck, trying to get a closer look. It was swollen and huge and pink at the tip. His thumb was working over the head, smearing the precum that had leaked out.
“Ye stopped.” It was a statement, and he didn’t need to give you further instructions for you to once again start moving your hand between your legs.
You let it travel further down this time, to collect some of your wetness with two fingers before bringing it up to your mouth and tasting yourself. Sweet and tangy.
Clyde didn’t make a single sound to let you know if he was affected by your actions, so all you could do was assume that he was, and that was enough to spur you on.
You brought your hand back down, inserting a finger slowly, testing the waters. You were more than ready, your walls giving way easily to the intrusion.
A second soon joined the first and you set a steady rhythm, pumping them in and out with a squelch as your walls clenched around your digits. Your other palm came up to massage at your breast, twisting the nipple between your fingertips.
Your chest heaved with your moans that were penetrating the air. It was hard keeping your eyes open with the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling but you had to stay focus, you didn’t want to miss a second of seeing Clyde slumped from the pleasure of his touch as he fucked into his hand.
“I want ye to make yerself cum.” You were more than happy to give in to this demand. Your fingers were moving urgently inside of you, and your other hand moved on from your breast, coming down to pinch at your clit and then rub tight small circles over it.
The heat that had been steadily building inside of you, blossoming in your stomach, was slowly taking over your entire body now. Your toes were beginning to curl, and you were fighting your eyes from rolling backwards in your head.
And then, it all became too much for you and you let go and the best part of it all rolled over you like tidal waves, washing through you, soaking you with that post-orgasmic glow.
You let your fingers slowly slip out of you, letting your arms fall to your sides as you watched Clyde get up. You didn’t know if he had come, having been too focused on yourself, but it didn’t matter, he still stood at full attention.
Your mouth practically frothed at the sight of him, you could turn rabid from the need that you had for him. A whine slipped out of your mouth, an arm lifting up to reach out for him, needing to touch him.
He came close enough so that your fingers could just barely brush against the fabric of his pants that he still insisted on having on.
Rage took over your body. It was an irrational rage, why did he still have them on? You wanted them off and you wanted them off now. You had to see him, all of him, before you went insane from the deprivation. Was it even possible? To lose your mind over not getting to see another person naked? You certainly thought so.
You sat up, leaning on one of your shoulders as you looked up at him with a glare on your face.
“Take them off.” He was thoroughly amused by your attempt at a demand. You didn’t achieve quite the same rumble in your tone that he had which left no room for arguing, but still, he conceded and pushed the pants down his legs until they were low enough to be kicked off.
His shirt followed soon after, almost hitting you in the face as he threw it carelessly toward the corner of the bed.
You couldn’t help but admire him. A work of art, good enough to be hung in the Met, that was for sure.
You got on your knees in front of him, the height from the bed aiding you in being just tall enough so that you could place kisses on his chest- You placed the first one in the middle, right over his sternum whilst looking up at him.
Your eyes stayed locked as you planted another kiss over his heart, the next on his right pec, and so forth. They circled around one of his nipples, letting your teeth give it a small nibble before pulling it with you just a bit before releasing it and letting it revert to its original state, hard as a rock.
It was starting to get more and more obvious just how affected Clyde was getting, his arousal much more prominent, if that was even possible. You could feel it against your skin, you didn’t want to touch it just yet, dragging it out for as long as you could.
You enjoyed watching him become more and more flustered by your actions. His chest was heavy with each audible breath, cock tapping against your lower stomach, begging to be touched, but you kept your hands away. They were holding on to his thighs, caressing them in small movements that were making their way toward his cock at snail pace.
“Ye gon’ tease me all night?” You let out a laugh at the ridiculous accusation. If anybody had been the one to tease, it was Clyde.
“Are you going to tease me all night?” You threw the question back at him, biting your lip with an innocent smile.
He growled. He actually growled and you could feel how it caused a trickle to roll down your leg.
“Didn’t yer mammy or daddy ever teach ye not to talk back?”
“They didn’t actually” His eyes had steadily grown darker and darker as the evening progressed and were now on the border of black.
He smashed your lips together, grabbing a hold of your face with his right hand with a bruising grip. He kissed and nipped at your lips before pulling back and pushing you back onto the bed.
He was quick to follow you onto the bed as he guided you to lay on your back, spread eagle, with him kneeling between your legs. His hands were on his hips as he watched you. You squirmed under his gaze, trying to create some type of friction anywhere that would aid in bringing you closer to another release.
His kisses started on your inner knee, building their way up at a torturous pace. He didn’t leave a kiss between your legs; instead, he just hovered there so you could feel his hot breath tickle you before continuing.
You were practically sobbing for more when he finally made it to your lips.
“Please, you have to…”
“I have t’ what?” He looked completely serious as he looked down at you, balanced on one hand. He was expecting an answer from you, and you didn’t know what to say. You obviously wanted him to fuck you but for some reason, you were too shy to say it.
“Mhm… thought so,” He hummed before dropping down to his elbows pressing his entire body onto you.
You could feel all of him. His skin was electric against your own and you could feel his length brushing over your clit. He rolled his hips in a small wave and you arched your back from the moan that escaped you.
It had all built up so much that the smallest touch from him could cause you to completely fall apart, despite the orgasm you had had. It was because it was different when Clyde was the one that touched you; your own touch was nowhere near adequate in comparison.
He rolled his hips again, this time applying just a bit more pressure and you couldn’t help but to widen and draw up your legs slightly, wanting to give him easier access.
“I didn’t tell ye tha’ ye could move.” You were trembling from need at his words. You needed more; couldn’t he understand that?
You were reluctant as you started to bring your legs back down, but he (thankfully) hooked his left arm around your leg, stopping its descent. He hoisted it up to rest by the side of his hip as he simultaneously sat back upon his haunches.
“Do ye need me inside of ye?” Your head had started nodding before he could even finish the sentence, causing a wicked smile to spread across his face.
“I need t’ be inside of ye too.” They were the most glorious words you had ever heard.
His right hand gave a tug at his cock, but it didn’t need any more preparation. It was hard and as ready for you as you were him. He grabbed a hold of base, stabilizing it as he dragged it through your sweet and slickened folds before slowly slipping inside.
Your walls easily gave way for him as he finally pushed in due to your overflowing arousal. He stretched you as wide as you would go with little pain and raw pleasure. You were clenched tightly around him, walls squeezing him in a vice grip, trying to draw him in even deeper.
You could feel yourself grow more and more manic in your need as he sunk deeper and deeper into you. It was as if all other senses had disappeared and all you could focus on was his powerful thrusts that were drilling into you.
He kept your right leg at his hips, whilst his other hand was hoisting your left over his shoulder after just a few deep thrusts.
You choked from the warmth that spread through your body from this position. He was deeper than you even knew you could take him. The head of his cock tapping at your cervix with every drilling thrust but there was no pain, only excruciating pleasure that made tears leak from your eyes from happiness.
The carnal need was as fervent within Clyde as it was you. He couldn’t take it slow; his thrusts were forceful and intent on driving you to your next orgasm as quickly as he could.
“Fuck, ye feel good.” Clyde hissed. “Such a sweet an’ tight little pussy.”
Your eyes could barely focus on him, only catching small glimpses of him with his hair plastered to his forehead from the moisture that was collected there. Your hands were grasping onto the duvet, needing something to hold onto in desperation.
His thrusts were precise and well calculated; he hit that spot inside of you over and over again that made you let out guttural moans.
But he enjoyed torturing you and he suddenly came to a halt, retracting from you completely.
“Move over.” He helped to guide you in your haze. Your own movements were thankfully still quick despite your barely lucid mind as you shuffled to the side, and he laid down on the bed.
Clyde’s hand was supporting his base, helping it stand tall, ready for you to penetrate yourself onto it. You threw your leg over his hips to straddle him. You hovered over his cock, looking down to see how you were dripping on to him.
You didn’t stay there for too long before mounting yourself onto it, dropping down with a pant as you engulfed him within you.
The pace you set was frantic, chasing climax. Your hands came down to rest on his chest to better help you push yourself up and down his cock. The sound of your skin slapping against his echoed around the room, driving your wild.
He was a sight for sore eyes underneath you. Lost in the madness and wild from it all. His desire and pleasure were so clear on his face from the way his mouth was parted and the way his eyes admired you, following your every movement.
He used his right hand to help you ram down onto him again and again.
You got on your feet, gaining better leverage than you had had before on your knees, bouncing up and down. You were so, so close; you could feel your orgasm simmering there underneath the surface, you just needed a small push to get there. And Clyde delivered that small push.
“Yer such a good girl, takin’ me so well. You just love bein’ fucked, don’t ye?”
Your walls clamped down on him, legs shaking as you came to a stop, being unable to continue as you fell forward onto his chest, overwhelmed by the pleasure that filled your body.
He received you in his arms, letting his hand caress over your spine as you continued to slightly convulse from your orgasm.
“Such a good girl” He crooned in your ear with a kiss and tug on your lobe.
Clyde wasn’t as sweet when he pinned both your arms to your sides with one of his, holding you in place as he started slamming his hips up into you, chasing his own pleasure.
The sounds that came out of your as he rammed himself in over and over again were indistinguishable. You were gushing around him, your entire body vibrating from another orgasm, but he still didn’t let up. His hips were starting to stutter, however, thrusts being off-pace as he pounded into you.
And then a sharp thrust was accompanied by a husky cry as he ejected deep inside of you. He managed to pump into you a few more times as your walls milked him, your mixed climaxes collecting at his base.
You were exhausted, unable to move so he stayed there, deep inside of you as he grew flaccid.
You thought it was a fuck for the history books.
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ripperdaddy · 3 years
Text
the viktor vector romance path + ending we deserve
Disclaimer: This is definitely something I came up with in my head. There will be a few instances that are solely made up so it can tie in with the “story.” This is purely fictional; something I wished happened if there was a possible Vik romance 🥰 This is based on my general knowledge of the game & Vik’s life. All gifs + images are from my own personal play through, but wouldn’t be possible without the help of the Appearance Menu Mod, found on Nexus Mods by the creators, MaximiliumM and CtrlAltDaz. And the shirtless Vik mod by the lovely samsnak ♡
It would start after completing the Paid In Full quest where you pay Vik back the eddies you owe him.
I feel like realistically, the general player would have to be at least halfway through the story to have collected enough eddies. I would say that a good point in the story where we can begin the romance is that you’ve already established a connection to Alt and have dealt with the VDB’s.
I think it would be a short side quest like River’s. Vik already plays a big part in the story overall on his own, so I don’t think it’s necessary to make his “side quest” too long. His romance would just be an addition to the ending.
And as much as I would love for him to be a bisexual option for both male/female V, if we’re sticking with the game’s standard with limiting partners to only one kind of partner, he would only be romance-able by a female V with a feminine voice.
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V: Finally scrounged up enough eddies to pay you back in full.
Vik: Hold on to ‘em just in case - you need ‘em more than me.
V: I’m not taking them all the way to my grave, Vik. Here. And.. thanks again for doing so much work on me ‘thout ever seein’ an enny.
Vik: That’s what friends are for.
Then, there is an additional option for dialogue to trigger the romance path.
V: Friends? I think you’ve been in and out of my body more than anyone else I’ve hooked up with in Night City.
He laughs, with a coy smile. “Well, can’t argue with you there. Why don’t we take some of these eddies and grab a drink. You know, to celebrate. Catch up on old times. Haven’t seen you round here much lately, kid.”
You agree to meet at the El Coyote Cojo tomorrow evening.
You meet around 9 PM and you are welcomed by the sight of Pepe and Vik at the bar.
V: Nice choice of venue.
Vik: Thought you’d like it. Haven't been here since.. well, you know.
V: I miss him, Vik.
Vik: I know, V. Me too.
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You immediately take a seat and tinker with a few dialogue options, where you can either have a sweet moment talking about Jackie or some surface questions to ask, like how he’s doing, what kind of drink he likes, etc. But it all winds down to Jackie anyway, where Vik confides in you about his past. Judging by how Vik was so affected by Jackie’s death, and V’s (if you chose the suicide ending), you can tell that he has lost a lot in his life, and keeps his circle very small.
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You then achieve an even closer, more personal relationship with him. But, ultimately nothing happens other than the usual, wait 24 hours in game for a text/phone call from Vik to head into the next stage. At least now, you have established the foundation for a future romance.
Halfway through the 24 hour period, you get a text from Vik thanking you for the lovely evening. No reply needed, as he calls you once the 24 hour mark hits and invites you out for another date.
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You meet at Tom’s Diner for coffee in the afternoon. It starts off with him apologizing for being emotional the previous night and asks if you’re open to hanging out again and going down to Pacifica to watch a fight with him.
Vik: Hey, V. I just wanted to apologize about last night. I didn’t mean to be such a downer.
V: It’s okay, Vik. We share the same grief.
Vik: I was going to head down to Pacifica and catch a real good match later on today. I was wondering if you’d like to come along, think it’d be great for the both of us, you know, as a distraction.
pssst even Johnny’s rooting for y’all ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Johnny: Hmm, interesting.
V: What?
Johnny: Never thought you'd be going out with this guy.
V: Vik's amazing. And I mean--we basically owe it to him since he practically saved our life.
Johnny: Don't tell me you're going out with him out of pity.
V: I'm not.
Johnny: I know, I can feel you get all mushy-gushy. It's almost repulsive. Just wanted to hear you admit it.
V: Eat a dick, Johnny.
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You arrive before the GIM and blend into the crowd.
V: Nothin’ like watching guys beat the shit out of each other to get your blood pumpin’, huh?
Vik: This is a real good matchup, V. This kid’s fresh, young talent.
V: You miss it, don’t you?
Before the fight begins, Vik shares a story about his time in the ring and coming in second in the Watson Boxing Grand Prix.
There’s some extra fun options in the dialogue, you can bet some eddies on who’s gonna win, or side with him. The fight ends, and you two head outside.
Since you’re already out in Pacifica, you head over to the boardwalk (where you would ride the roller coaster with Johnny) and he starts telling you about the last days of his boxing career and how he transitioned from the sport to being a ripperdoc.
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You both share a sweet moment with each other, reminiscing about old times and talking about V’s future with the relic. This is where I would see Vik confessing how he feels about you, mentioning how grateful he is for Jackie introducing you to him.
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The evening ends and Vik asks you to give him some time to try and dig up some footage from his storage and have you come over to watch. You can kiss him then wait another 24 in game hours before the last quest. Halfway through, he texts you and asks you what you’d like for dinner. You can opt for pizza or chinese.
I haven’t seen or read anything about how or where Vik lives. If I overlooked something, please let me know! But for the sake of the story, let’s say he does actually have his own place that’s now introduced in the game. Personally, I think he has a typical bachelor pad, like a really nice apartment. Not too far from his clinic either. He looks like he would just walk to work. Vik definitely has a lot of money, but he’s so humble I doubt he would choose to live lavishly. As mentioned in the beginning, he typically just “sleeps nights” ever since he was over “being a legend” so I’m guessing his lifestyle is very routine. He goes to work, goes home, sleep. Seems unlikely he has a place like the Peralez’s. It would probably be just the same as V’s but decorated to his taste.
The evening comes and you are over at his place. He’s dressed in just a white undershirt, no exo-glove. You get to know more about his family, how he grew up — scanning things around his place. Then he plays some footage of one of his fights for you, while you two have a conversation and share a beer. As you two sit on the couch, you get close, then have an opportunity to kiss him.
then this is where da sex happen hihihi (ノ・ω・)ノ
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The next morning you wake up and you two have a heartfelt conversation about where this is going. He already knows your situation, so I would assume he is very accepting and supportive. And with Vik, he seems like the kind of guy who would still want to be in your life and keep the friendship the same way despite no longer being together romantically. So it’s official. He’s your man 🥵 !!11!1!
Like how River gives you the “fuck the police” tank top after sleeping with him, I think Vik would give you his Night City Devils t-shirt that provides you with a significant amount of armor or some kind of cyberware upgrade that makes you invulnerable for a brief moment while using your hands to fight enemies.
Note: I was thinking of Vik giving V his boxing glove necklace, but because it's part of his character's appearance in the game, I don't think we would be able to essentially "take it" from him - unless he gives you a replica as a keepsake. Which I think would also work.
If you successfully romance, during the rooftop scene near the end of Nocturne OP55N1 (despite Vik’s disposition of him telling you to take matters in your own hands and being a little closed off), you still have an option to reach out to him when Johnny advises you to call a loved one.
V: Hey, Vik. I just wanted to say, thanks for hanging with me, until the end.
Vik: Quit talking like it is, V. Just do what you need to do.
V: I mean, think of it. It’s like I’m heading into the last round of this whole thing.
Vik: Well, in that case.. remember—keep your hands up, guarded at all times. It ain’t over just yet.
V: Heh.. I can feel it, just a few more punches.
Vik: Now look at you - the new welterweight champ of Night City.
V: Thanks, coach.
Vik: Last piece of advice from the coach's corner. Just.. be careful, kid. Remember, I’m with you.
Okayyyy, soooo I’m not the biggest fan of how CDPR gave us two of the same endings (Path of Glory). The only difference is that Rogue’s life is spared. I would have assumed that not only would we get to keep Rogue around, things should have played a bit more differently for V if we took the route of going solo against the corpos. So let’s tweak it.
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This specific ending; it should be after getting through Don’t Fear The Reaper where you single-handedly manage to rip through Arasaka by yourself. Johnny goes back to Alt & Rogue is still alive. Yes nobody dies!!!
(honestly this ending can apply to any love interest you choose)
Vik and V are now living together in a lavish penthouse, entertaining an upcoming merc to do their work for them (which is now the current POV of the player.) You were recruited by Rogue at the Afterlife, who told you to visit this couple for a real, preem job.
They give you some vague details about the gig and go on for a brief moment about what you will be doing and what you should expect. Vik emphasizes to you that it’s important you get what they need because it’s for his wife, V, as her life depends on it.
As Never Gonna Fade Away is playing in the background, they tell you to break into Arasaka HQ.
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Then the game officially ends.
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ratsoh-writes · 3 years
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Oh man I got another one- say everyone is monster hunting (like Bigfoot or mothman- whatever you like) who’s the one who hears a sound and just books it? Anyone have a fight reaction and start swinging? AKSKJFJAJDH WHOS THE ONE TO TRY TO RUN AFTER IT WITH THE CAMERA ALL UP IN ITS BUISNESS AKSKJDJSJS
I don’t know how you want to format this- so if you just want to put them under categories- superb; longer version? Dealer’s choice
Here’s how everyone reacts/roles during monster hunting:
Sans: in a monster hunt, he’s the guy who stays in the van to “keep watch” on all the electronics. Instead sans falls asleep of course and misses all the action. His team could straight up see a ghost and he won’t believe them lol
Papyrus: he’s more likely to go Bigfoot hunting then ghost hunting. And for some reason papyrus brought a metal detector like that’ll help? It doesn’t but he also found two dollars in lost coins so he counts it as a win.
Star: he uses superglue to line a butterfly net with salt to catch the demons in. It doubles as a blunt weapon if they fight back.
Honey: he’ll break off from the group and wind up getting lost in the woods. He’s the guy who actually meets moth man and gets directions back to the campsite from him. It’s not till days later that honey realizes that moth man wasn’t actually another monster from the underground
Red: he also stays in the van, except red is watching those radios like a hawk. He’ll be extremely disappointed and relieved if nothing happens.
Edge: he calls everyone else an idiot for going monster hunting, but winds up leading the group instead because no one else is qualified enough for it. Every sound edge hears is just a raccoon. There’s no other explanation and you can’t convince him otherwise.
Mal: he decided to wear all silver jewelry today just in case! No vampire is taking a chunk out of mal! Plus this is his sharp set of rings so it doubles as a shank.
Cash: he’s the one who breaks from the group and then terrorizes them with mysterious noises and throwing pinecones. Until something grabs cash’s shoulder, and when he turns, there’s no one there. Now he’s sprinting home.
Oak: out of everyone he’s the most likely to get possessed. Oak will freeze, loose the red eye-light, and utter some creepy-a*s prophecy before coming to. Then he just keeps walking. He didn’t even notice lol
Willow: he’s not taking this seriously and will be enjoying his nature walk until his brother gets possessed. Now willow is taking it very seriously. And they’re leaving Right. Now. Heaven help the ghost if they try that crap again. Willow will exorcise them.
Charm: he really really really hopes they find a vampire. A vampire hickey would be the ultimate trophy!! But if the vampire is a jerk, charm can always throw the garlic salt he bought at Walmart at them.
Sugar: he genuinely does not want to be here, but someone’s gotta keep charm alive. Besides, call him racist, but sugar isn’t comfortable with a vampire getting cosy with his brother. A werewolf is fine though.
Lord: he genuinely does not want to be here, but once again wine and mal have dragged lord into the strangest kind of trouble. Sneaking into a government building is more expected by him than monster hunting. Oh well, at least he knows wine is the monster guru. If they ever find one he’ll know what to do.
Mutt: he came into the forest with friends to find Bigfoot, but left with four baby raccoons. Mutt is praying to the stars that lord will let him keep them.
Wine: HE IS READY. Wine was made for this day!!! He already has survival kits, flashlights, a bible and silver cross, extra batteries in case the flashlights go out, and like 30 disposable cameras. If anyone is going to find a cryptid it’ll be him!
Coffee: he was the one to scare cash. Cash was bugging the old lady squad, and coffee didn’t want his brother to get mad at his friend. Plus it’s always fun to get one on the other prankster.
Pop: he takes to the trees. But unlike in movies, the tree branches move a lot each time pop jumps on one. With all the racket he’s making, no wonder he never gets to meet mothman.
Rhythm: it only takes one loud noise for rhythm to run all the way back home. He’s too easily spooked. You might want to pick someone else for this.
Pluto: he doesn’t believe in the supernatural at all, but pluto does believe in science! He brings a pocket guide on local rocks and plants and will turn the monster hunt into a lovely treasure hunt. He finds a pretty quarts right add to his collection
Jupiter: he’ll take to the sky as his buddies walk. If there’s anyone Jupiter is the most likely to go monster hunting with, it’s Star. Both of them have almost endless energy which can be a problem. They end up exploring too far and will be exhausted by the time they circle back.
Peaches: he’s very superstitious and definitely believes in ghosts and such. And ghosts terrify peaches. He’ll be hanging off of ranchers arm all evening. If anything pops out of the bushes, peaches will shout and start running.
Rancher: he’s ready. Rancher is equipped with a metal rod, his shotgun, his most aggressive pig, and some salt and garlic to make peaches feel better. Rancher is gonna find that thieving coyote if it’s the last thing he does.
G: he likes to tell people that he’s met ghosts during his late night drives. In reality, they were the drunk college kids who party in the woods, but ghosts make a cooler story. G is unphasable and will have a grand time telling scary stories during the hunt to rile up his teammates.
Green: he’ll absolutely refuse to go cryptid hinting in the woods. Not because of ghosts or Bigfoot. No, green isn’t scared of those at all. You see, it’s the spiders. If he walks into a spider web he’ll literally die. Green is a total arachnophobe
Snipe: occasionally Don will kick snipe out to go on a manhunt so he can get some fresh air. He usually takes butch with him on these because ace is a jerk who likes playing mind games. He’ll always convince snipe that there’s a ghost about. Anyways snipe doesn’t like ghosts
Bruiser: he’s super down to go cryptid hunting until he hears it’s in the forest. You see, bruise knows the city like the back of his hand, but the forest is uncharted territory. Bruiser will be super clumsy and steadily more and more frustrated as the night goes on. If he actually meets a cryptid, he’s real likely to fist fight it right now
Ace: he loves ghost stories and the supernatural. I’f ace was invited on a ghost hunt, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from scaring everyone else with his creepy stories lol.
Slim: as the only papyrus who can shortcut, slim loves to use and abuse that privilege. And use it he does. The second he hears a suspicious noice, slim is grabbing his favorite group member and blipping away. This is a good way to tell if you’re the favorite friend. If it was between his brothers, he would save boss
Butch: he ain’t afraid of no ghost!! Ghosts are just floating souls right? Then all he has to do is grab them with blue magic and yeet them right back into the afterlife. Butch is disappointed in everyone who hasn’t thought of this yet.
Boss: oh hell naw. Boss absolutely is terrified cannot stand all this talk about things that don’t exist! He’ll be staying right here until you guys start to come crawling back.
.........
Maybe on second thought he better come with. You guys might get mugged or something. As a leader he has to protect his friends of course!
Rust: and chance some creepy pedo ghost trying to haunt his daycare. No thank you!
Noir: rust never pulls the big brother card, but if noir started messing with the supernatural, you bet he would. Besides noir is more then happy to play the “my legs hurt” card that get out of it. Monster hunting isn’t really his thing.
Lilac: he so very wants to keep up with Star and Jupiter, but there are some things lilac can’t do with his prosthetic leg. It would be too dangerous. Instead he mans the campsite, keeping watch for any suspicious activity and the cops.
Basil: the supernatural is one thing that basil has zero fear of or belief in. He’ll come, and just to be annoying he brings backups of everything. Flashlight keeps going out? He’s got two more and extra packs of batteries. Strange animal noises? Let’s see them make that after his dog whistle. Getting colder? Basil is ready for extra scarves for everyone
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mollysfoundfamily · 3 years
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Since Zora's mother is canonically dead, imagine her and Molly bonding over their losses.
(full disclosure I actually had a big loss occur in my family recently and when writing this I accidentally starting projecting a little so it might sound kinda weird but was just my personal coping take away form the the whole thing hope that’s okay!)
well since Percy is Molly’s official legal guardian and Zora is Percy’s partner that technically also makes her Molly’s guardian so percy thought it would be good for them to try bonding! that’s how to two ending up in a tree sitting in awkward silence at 6:00 am one chilly fall morn waiting for Zora to shoot something. They both like nature but Zora is more into dominating it…rather then peacefully enjoying it The two are the most distant from each other in the house mostly because both have of a low key mutual fear of each other.
Molly really does want to try and get to know her second legal guardian and Zora will attempt to connect with the adorable little Hannibal for Percy’s sake but all attempts at the mysterious art of small talk have thus far failed.…
until a sweet pretty doe wanders right into Zora‘s line of fire.
Molly stops her right before she can pull the tigger by yanking at the gun. Zora is obviously pissed because NO ONE TOUCHES HER GUNS. (Plus its super dangerous and Percy will kill her if she gets hurt) until she notices the little baby fawn with her.
Zora: “you’ve seen that Disney deer way to many times kid.” *cocks gun and accidentally scared them off* “DA! DOH SH- ugh now look what you did kid!” Molly: “wha- I- how could you still do that she needs her mom?!”
Zora: “psht- she don’t need shit that baby was big enough to be on her own! it’ll help build character I didn’t have no mom for most my childhood and look at me!“
Molly: “…y-you didn’t have a mom either?”
Zora: “I-uhh- y-yah so?”
Molly: well um how can- I mean how did you cope with it?
Zora: Cope? kid back and I my day we didn’t have time to “cope“ parents dropped like flies and it didn’t stop the fields from needin to be plowed for the cows from need to be milked or the wild rabid coyotes needin to be shot before they gnawed your legs off!
Molly: *weak chuckle* yah… I know how that is…
Zora: there were rabid coyotes in sweet jazz city?
Molly: Oh no no I mean the other stuff about still having to you know work… It felt so…. lonely
Zora:……. *looks at molly really looks at her and how tired her big green button eyes are for the first time* uhhhh *sign* yah it kinda was…. But it kept my mind off it too yah know…
Molly: yah I guess so… but its still just frustrating like no one even cared that she was gone exact for me and they just expect me to forget and move on like it didn’t matter at all! *tiny angry tears start to drip from the corners of her eyes*
*after a moment Zora awkwardly puts her arm around her tiny shoulders and pulls her into close to her poncho it’s surprisingly soft and smells like autumn leaves it reminds her off when her mom would hold her close on chilly fall days*
Zora: *deep sigh* I honestly don’t know what to say here Perc and soup boy are a lot better at this comforting thing then me…. You didn’t deserve to have to deal with all that kid not as young as yah were in whats supposed to be the “civilized age“ when you could of had like robots or something doing it… *sigh* I wish I could have some kinda sunshine and rainbows advice for yah….
but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that no matter what you just can’t stop the world from turning no matter how much you want to…but the bright side of that is it can lead to something better…
*the early morning sun glimmers like molten gold through the dewey pine trees*
Zora slowly wraps around Molly and pulls her closer Molly hugs Her back just as tightly resting her head on Zora’s chest still teary but with a small smile on her face.... Zora rests her head on Molly‘s letting a single tear slip from her eye into Molly’s hair as the pair watch the sun slowly rise over the forest…..
Molly: *sigh* thank you Zora….
Zora: heh heh no problem little cub… (can’t believe that actually came outta me)
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five-miles-over · 3 years
Text
Misery Loves Company (Clay Bidwell x Reader)
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Summary: After leaving his hometown and all of its chaos, Clay Bidwell meets the reader at a strange bar and the two of them have a much-needed break from their troubles.
Word Count: 2,262
Warnings: swearing, mentions of death (allusions to suicide), and some references to the film Clay Pigeons
If there was one thing that Clay Bidwell could change, it would be his decision to trust Lester Long. I mean, what the hell was he thinking, trusting some new guy in town with a big old grin to keep him safe. That guy's self-appointed nickname said it all: Lester the Molester. What a son of a bitch. What a smiling, cheery, fucking son of a bitch.
He should've seen something wrong when Lester opened his mouth and laughed like a goddamn coyote. He should've seen something wrong when Lester kept a cheery spirit around a corpse floating around in a river. Who in their right mind wouldn't be freaked out by something so creepy? Clay himself vomited at the sight, way before he could even catch any of the stench from the rotting body.
Until his best friend Earl shot himself in front of Clay, he'd never even seen a dead person before. Even though he was from a town so small that everyone knew everyone else and their business, death was always something so…covert. It was a covered-up thing, something private. The family would have their little funeral, and next week the obituary would show up in the newspapers. No one ever really kept the casket open, and it was just assumed that the deceased were off to a better place.
It turned out Earl was just the first one in a morbid domino effect. Next, Clay's ex-girlfriend was shot dead…while she was fooling around with Clay. Finally, Earl's widow, who was fooling around with Clay before Earl died, was found dead in her own home.
And of course, Clay was found to be the common thread linking all of those murders. The cops tried to string together a bunch of bullshit and frame him - Clay fucking Bidwell - as some serial killer with women issues or something like that. He could still hear Agent Shelby interrogating him. "You're dating one victim, you're having an affair with another, and you find the body of the third. Kind of a coincidence, wouldn't you say?" The agents even came into his house one night and conducted some stupid raid for no reason. Right, they thought he had weapons. But hunting was a tradition in his hometown; almost every guy his age had at least one shot gun in their house, even if it was their dad's or uncle's.
So much for having faith in law enforcement to punish the guilty.
Thank goodness they finally came to their senses and went after Lester Long instead. Clay didn't remember much after watching the police cars chase after Lester. All he wanted to do at that time was leave. Leave this small town, and never look back.
So he did just that. As soon as the sirens began to quiet down, Clay jumped into his creaky pick-up truck, stepped on the gas and drove as far from town as possible. He didn't know where he was going, what direction, what road, or any of that shit. All he knew was that he was leaving the town that had nothing left for him anymore. He drove and drove for hours until the sun went down.
It was a long journey, and Clay found himself thanking his past self for leaving a few beers in the passenger seat. They were all empty by the time that twilight turned into night. Though, if Clay was being honest to himself, it probably wouldn't be enough alcohol for him to forget about spending a night in jail on false accusation, or erase all the death he'd seen.
With some of the money left in his glovebox, he pulled over at some gas station and filled up the tank. According to a sign on the road, he was about fifty miles from some city called Great Falls. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea, Clay thought to himself as he held the diesel nozzle, to try his luck in a big city. He heard stories about people having their own rags-to-riches story by leaving their small hometowns behind for busier places. And if nothing else, it'd be great to try and drive around the state just for the hell of it.
With a sigh, Clay watched as the meter reached its limit and the gasoline stopped flowing through the nozzle. The price wasn't all that bad for its mediocre quality, though it probably meant that Clay would have to sleep in his car tonight. It was hard to gauge the quality of the motels around this unfamiliar place, but he was sure that it would cost a lot more than whatever spare change Clay had left. Better to buy a drink, and get some sleep in the backseat, than to risk sleeping at some flea-infested room and wake up to a missing truck.
He parked the truck close to a neon sign - probably some saloon founded by a jaded business fellow - and walked inside. The place wasn't too crowded, with a few heads turning as soon as Clay walked in. Some of the guys were sitting around a table playing cards, and a lot of the customers seemed like they were regular patrons. Were they outlaws? Probably not. Based on the kinds of guys Clay saw in the saloon he used to go to, those guys drinking were probably just looking for an escape from their deadbeat jobs.
He almost smiled a little when he saw a pool table in the center, though it was strange to him that there was no one playing at the moment. Nevertheless, it reminded him of the good days when Earl and him would perfect their skills. By the time Clay turned nineteen, he was one of the best players in town. If he wasn't so blue right now, he'd be willing to show this new place a trick or two.
Clay looked out the window for a moment as he lit a cigarette. No cops in sight tonight? Good.
Taking a seat at the bar, he continued to people-watch until the bartender came up to him and asked for his order. Just as Clay told the bartender the kind of beer he wanted, you walked right inside and sat next to him.
While the bartender went behind to get the cold bottle, Clay looked you up and down, his lip curling upwards into a tiny boyish smirk. Maybe it was the after-effect of the alcohol from this afternoon, but you looked gorgeous to him…and almost a little mysterious, but also approachable. And you definitely looked nothing like the other customers in the saloon. Maybe you didn't come here often, or you were from another town, just like him.
"Hi."
"Oh…um, hi," Clay stammered, realizing you'd caught him staring. "Um…"
Taking control of the conversation, you introduced yourself to him and reached out to shake his hand. "How do you do?"
"I'm fine. You come here often?"
"Not like this." You shook your head and chuckled to yourself before ordering a drink for yourself. Clay sipped from his beer, listening to you tell him that you used to come here with a partner, on a Friday night after the two of you were done with work. "We had a lot of fun," you told him. "But things eventually just went south, we started fighting, and…I found them in bed with someone they'd been seeing on the side. So I packed my things and left…straight here. My stuff is literally sitting in my car right now."
"I'm sorry," you apologized casually, taking your drink. "I just met you. I don't even know your name and I'm already telling you about my break-up."
"It's fine," he replied with a crooked smile. "I'm Clay, by the way."
"So what brings you here, Clay?"
"Um…just, rough times. Needed to leave." He lied, not wanting to talk much about the things that really forced him here. "Sorry about your break-up. I know what it's like. It really sucks."
"To sucky lives and leaving shitty things behind." You toasted in a mock-celebratory tone, raising your drink and clinking it against his bottle. Clay's smile grew just a bit wider, and he even laughed a little.
The next hour felt like it passed by in the blink of an eye. Over the course of two beers (and who knows how many songs on the jukebox), Clay felt like he'd known you for years. Just by the way you talked about how you were almost done with school, and how much you hated your own little town just like he hated his…it was refreshing, to say the least. You seemed earnest, decent, and probably not tangled up in some kind of crime.
"Do you, by any chance, play?" He asked you after a bit of silence.
"Play what?"
"Um, pool." Clay pointed to the table at the center.
"No, never tried it before."
"I could…I could teach you if you like," he suggested. Now the beer was really taking his toll, making him want to show off a little for you.
"I'd love to learn."
You let him lead you towards the table, where the balls were already arranged for a new game. Clay was really friendly in teaching you the basics, on how to hold the pool stick (which was called a cue). He came up behind you, carefully guiding your hand to the right place on the stick and telling you to keep a good grip. Placing a hand over yours, Clay told you that a good shot involved getting the right angle. With another hand on your waist, he shifted you around nonchalantly so that you faced the right pockets of the table.
The alcohol was quite present in his breath while he spoke, but his voice…damn, you could listen to him talk all night. It was nice that you could get him out of his shell by agreeing to learn. And the way his hands felt on you was pretty nice. Eventually, you were able to make a few combination shots, and Clay was pleased.
"Damn, you're a fast learner."
"Thanks. You're a good teacher."
"Put enough quarters on a table like this one, I sure as hell have to be a pro." Clay bragged a little before the two of you laughed.
Suddenly, you put the stick down and walked closer to him with a smirk, not sure about what had gotten into you. "I…uh, I like the way you put your hands on me," you confessed in a whisper.
Catching your tone, he leaned against the table with a raised eyebrow "You did?"
You gave him a nod and mimicked his posture, leaning against the table as well. "I kinda like you, Clay."
"Yeah…I like you too." He goofily admitted, saying your name like it was something absolutely precious.
Making the first move, you gently pecked him on the cheek and ran your fingers through his messy, dark brown hair. A naughty glint in his green eyes, he took your gesture as encouragement…for something he'd shamelessly thought about since he led you over to the pool table. Boldly wrapping his arms around you, he crashed his lips into yours.
You moaned a little, surprised by how dizzying his kiss felt. "Take this…somewhere else?"
"Fuck, yeah."
The two of you made your way over to a slightly more private booth in the saloon, not wasting any time and continuing your make-out session. Clay didn't hesitate to pin you against the wall, bringing your leg up to get closer to you. Soon, his kisses grew sloppier and hungrier, covering your jawline and your neck. Right now, everything else seemed pretty much like a blur to him.
Kissing him back and lightly tugging at his hair, you painfully gasped his name the moment he got a bit too carried away and sucked at your collarbone. That was definitely going to leave a mark for the next morning…but it was totally worth it.
"Stop," you panted, breaking your lips away from his when you both needed air. "That was…that was...wow."
"Yeah, it really was." Clay agreed, his fingers still brushing your thigh. "You're really pretty. Like movie pretty."
"Maybe you're pretty drunk," you retorted. "A cute, pretty drunk who happens to be great at teaching pool."
"Maybe I'm drunk on you."
"What a line." Giggling, you smoothed your hair before going back to the bar, placing some change for the drink you had.
"You leaving already?" Clay followed you with a surprised and crestfallen expression.
You told him it was almost closing time, pointing out how empty the saloon had gotten since you arrived. "I'll tell you what, Clay." Taking a a pen lying around, you wrote your phone number on a napkin and handed it to him. "It's actually my friend's number, but they'll take a message. Besides, that's where I'm heading to stay until I can find my own place."
"That sounds great. I'll, uh, see you around."
"See you around. Thanks for a great night, Clay." You smiled, leaving him with one last kiss before walking out.
Clay took a long look at the napkin before folding it up and keeping it in his jeans pocket. Throwing some of his change on the bar, he left the bar and sat down in his truck. Closing his eyes, he rested his head on the wheel and hoped he'd be sober enough to drive again tomorrow.
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hendrickfw · 3 years
Text
A ray of hope/LU AU
The end was near. An enormous asteroid, a hundred kilometers wide, was about to impact Earth. The last time it happened was about seven hundred years ago, during the golden years of heroism. A young white duck astronomer wearing a red jacket watched through his telescope, noting the object getting closer to Earth.
-Jet? Please turn off the light and get to sleep.
Jet´s brother, Turbo, was sleeping in a blue pajama. He stood up and walked to his brother.
-I can´t. I´m a witness of a cosmological event never seen before!
-Wait. Space, you mean?
Turbo loved space. He pushed his brother apart and started watching through the telescope. His eyes opened wide at the incredible sight of the rock.
-Guys, someone is trying to sleep here- said Rebel, putting his pillow over his head.
Jet, Turbo, and Rebel were triplets, all brothers of the large Duck family. They lived in Acmetropolis in their uncle´s Nash Duck house. Their mother traveled through all the galaxy, so she rarely was with them. The trio also passed their time with their uncle Ebenezer McDuck.
Rebel went with them after his complaints were unheard. He used some green pajamas. He wasn´t so happy about being out of bed.
-Wow, that´s so cool! You never told me a pink lady was flying over there!- exclaimed Turbo, making Jet curious.
-Pink lady? What are you talking about?
Jet pushed his brother and started watching through the telescope, impressed by the phenomenon before his eyes. A strange pink-dressed woman flying near the asteroid fired some kind of ray to it. The meteor was destroyed, although some debris continued its trajectory to Acmetropolis.
-That´s impossible! That is some abnormal event! How is a woman able to fly? What did she fire? Why...?
-Kids. What are you doing?
Another white duck opened the door. He was Nash, the uncle of the ducklings. He seemed mad after seeing his nephews out of bed late at night.
-Nothing, Uncle Nash- responded the three, hiding the telescope behind them.
-You should be sleeping. Remember that tomorrow we´ll visit your uncle Ebenezer.
-Ok, Uncle Nash- the trio responded again in unison.
The ducklings returned to bed, ready for the next day. Although, the strange event they have just seen got them intrigued.
While they were sleeping, some meteor debris fell to the city with some cosmic energy. Fortunately, it wouldn´t affect any individual. Right?
Acmetropolis University
It was a summer day in the city. The people could feel the heat of the day. There was, at least, one person, or animal, without that kind of problem. He was Tech E. Coyote, a Ph.D. student of the Technology Department of the biggest and most important university in the city.
Tech, as his ancient name suggests, was a coyote with brown fur. His green eyes, concentrated on his latest invention, still showed a wild persona, but also wisdom. He was wearing a lab coat. Despite someone's sound entering into the lab, his concentration didn't leave the device in front of him. Smith Pierce, Tech's professor, entered the lab. The coyote did not hear his presence until he felt someone touch the chair where he was sitting.
“You should rest. We're going to have a meal with the rest of the class at Pizza Fest. You coming?”
“I don't think so, sir. If I want to investigate the astrological phenomenon of the time, I must finish the intercosmic suit.”
Of course, the genius knew about the asteroid in the direction of the planet and wanted to investigate it closely. Very close. Smith, as much as he wanted to convince Tech to get out, knew he wouldn't make it. The professor sighed and walked out.
“If you change your mind, we will be waiting for you. Warner Street corner with Mouse.”
Tech nodded from afar, still adjusting the suit's protection systems. There wasn't much time, as the asteroid would arrive in a few days.
“You know? If you listened to me, I'd introduce you to my friend the roadrunner. Both could complement each other very well in the lab” asked a female voice. Tech had to start paying more attention to his surroundings while he was working.
“The delivery guy? You know I don't trust working with anyone since Casey, Lexi.”
After Smith's departure came Lexi Bunny, a tan fur bunny. She didn't study anything related to science. Instead, she was an athlete. She had been a cheerleader in high school and was now looking to pursue basketball. Despite this, she had taken some physics and engineering courses (specially to learn more about those subjects than his brother) under Tech's mentoring. Since then, they have become good friends, although Tech has had confidence issues.
And that's why Lexi wants to include him in ger close group of friends. In addition to the roadrunner whose name went through Rev, there was his older brother Ace. Rev also claimed to have two friends who would introduce them today. Just the ideal situation to take Tech.
“Today Rev will introduce me and my brother some friends. You should come, it'll be fun.”
“I can't. I have to finish this before I miss the opportunity.”
“Then do it as a favor. Remember the time you...?”
When Lexi pursued an objective, she usually made it. That's what he admired her. Well, he had to admit that, from the few times they'd come out, he'd had more fun than usual. Maybe he'd do the same this time, even though there'd be more people outside of her brother and herself.
“All right, all right. I 'm going. Just help me put some things in store” the most he tried to hide his smile, he just couldn't. He really enjoyed the company of the bunny.
As they both began to pack the objects Tech used, Tech recalled a recent comment from the bunny. That would serve to kill the silence in which they were involved.
“And... are you sure you want to do it?”
“I don't know. It's a big step and, so far, Ace hasn't taken it well.”
“We can postpone it so you can think about it better, discuss it with him and, well, with me. We haven't decided everything.”
“Doesn't it bother you? It's a decision that's yours too.”
“Not at all. I'd rather you be comfortable, specially.”
Lexi felt unsure of the action to take, but at least she was happy to have Tech's support. It was comforting to some extent.
Once they both finished storing everything, they left the University and walked to the city subway, from where they took transportation to downtown. Tech felt somewhat uncomfortable about being in such unhygienic, crowded environments, but at least having Lexi by his side giving him conversation took those thoughts out of his head. Soon they arrived and took to the streets of the metropolis. A short time passed, and they entered the Pizzarriba establishment.
Pizzarriba was a pizza restaurant created in the 21st century, miraculously afloat after losing almost all its establishments to Pizza Fest. Luckily, the original restaurant was still standing. It continued to maintain the same style as in its founding years, specially to attract customers.
Lexi, followed by Tech, walked through the door. It was Tech's first time on the establishment. Lexi quickly ran to one of the tables. Tech recognized her brother, Ace, whose grey fur was unmistakable for the coyote. He wore a jacket and jeans, his typical outfit after finishing his auditions. He was the only one on site, probably saving space for the group. The table was big. How many friends would the roadrunner bring?
- What's up, Doc? Ace asked Tech after hugging and greeting her sister.
-Hi, Ace.
Ace gave room for both of them to sit down. Lexi sat next to him and Tech was left next to her. Before they could start chatting, the three of them heard the door of the restaurant open with an unusual sound of someone talking.
“... a-robot-commissioned-by-my-dad-so-I-had-to-look-for-a-replacement-and-you-know-how-difficult-it-is-to-find-a-modulator-at-the-middle-of-desert-so-I-improvised-putting-together-several-remnants-of-old-inventions-with-something-of-cheese--which-reminds-me-have-you-proven-this-pizza-is-delicious-and-look-there-are-my-friends-hello-Ace-Lexi-and-you-should-be-Tech-is-a-pleasure-Lexi-told-me-a lot-about-you-and-your-inventions-sound-awesome...”
Tech started to feel dizzy. He didn't know what it could be, but it started a little after the roadrunner arrived. By focusing on his problem, he failed to hear the last words of him, at least until Lexi interrupted him.
“Hello Rev. Tech, he is the friend I have told you about.”
Tech tried to return to his posture and reached out to say hello. He didn't expect a loud, quick handshake from the roadrunner. He heard that he continued to speak with the same speed and joviality, which caused the coyote more dizziness. It was nothing to his liking. Rev was the typical roadrunner one could find in the desert, with blue plumage on the body and violet on the tail. He was wearing a sports suit because he probably was used to run a lot. After the introduction, Rev returned with his friends and introduced them.
“He-is-Slam-the-Tasmanian-demon-and-he-is-a-professional-fighter-and-very-good-at-it-I must-admit...”
Slam was a little bigger than the average Tasmanian demon. He was huge in Lexi's opinion, but behind his smile she saw the personality of someone friendly rather than intimidating. They hoped it would, even though Lexi didn't hesitate. Tech failed to understand Slam's growls, but by his raised hand he suspected it was a greeting.
“... and-he-is-Duck-and-between-him-my-brother-Rip-and-I-we-are-best-friends-practically-brothers-or-what-do-you-say?”
The black duck was crossing his arms, without saying a word. Everyone noticed that he looked coldly at Ace, who looked back at him the same way.
“Rev, I didn't know you knew the duck.”
“Umm-yes-why-do-you-know each other?”
"Unfortunately," Duck replied.
"And this got awkward," Tech said louder than he wanted. Slam made sounds agreeing.
The three newcomers sat in front of those who were already there. The large size Slam occupied in the chair explained the size of the reserved table. Lexi was the first to break the tension when she saw Duck's shirt.
“Where did you get that? I've been looking for that shirt for centuries!”
Duck watched his shirt. He changed his expression of discomfort to a smirk. He looked at the bunny pointing at his shirt.
“This shirt? Please, the biggest fans of Duck Dodgers are the only ones who can carry them.”
"I-didn't-know-that-you-were-fan-of-Duck-Dogers-too-Lexi-I-mean-it-is-fantastic-other-thing-that-we-have-in-common.”
“Well, lady, it is your lucky day. I´m the Duck Dodgers fan club leader so I may allow you to join us. Do you know where we are?”
“Please give me something easy. Here was Dodgers' first fight in 2021 during the concert of a famous band of the time.”
“2021? Wasn't he a hero in 2500?” Ace asked, intrigued or her sisters´ knowledge of the character. He knew of her love for the hero, but not how much she had dived into his history.
“Actually, no. It's a common mistake. Duck Dodgers debuted at this restaurant in the 21st century but is best known for his heroics in the 25th century. Besides, it wasn't at a concert by a famous band of the time. The Caballeros were not popular when they played in the incident" corrected Tech. Everyone looked at him and Tech felt uncomfortable. “What? You can't be the only ones interested in superheroes.”
“Told you” bragged Lexi to her brother with a big smirk.
"Sure, I already knew that." Duck bragged too, though everyone distrusted his sincerity.
“Wouldn’t-it-be-amazing-to-have-superpowers-or-what-do-you-think-guys?” Rev asked with his speaking speed. “I-mean-I-already-run-fast-but-I-wouldn´t-be-annoyed-if-I-was-faster-or-which-powers-would-you-guys-like-to-have?”
"Definitely jump higher, be able to reach places I couldn´t." Lexi replied, already knowing the answer.
“Besides the intellect, which I already possess, probably some form of technokinesis. It would be helpful to me when working.” Tech replied, showing off and being honest at the same time.
Slam made incomprehensible sounds to others again, but Rev interpreted them as the ability to eat more.
“I don't want superpowers. With my agility I could kick any thief” said Ace confidently.
“Finally, you share my opinion, Ace. I wouldn't need either. Duck Dodgers never needed. I just need my natural duck strength.” Duck added.
“Where was that strength when you needed my help moving a ladder in the supermarket, Duck?” The others couldn't help but laugh a little bit about the anecdote.
“The ones with wheels to move around, Ace?”
“Nice deduction, Tech.”
"You are despicable..."
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The afternoon passed quickly and was fun, even for Tech or Duck, who were the most apathic. After eating the pizza and getting to know each other a little better, everyone returned to their homes. Everyone had their own responsibilities to attend.
Rev was the first to get home thanks to his speed, despite being the one who lived the farther away. The roadrunner arrived at his parents' house. Ralph, his father, greeted him immediately, diverting the little attention paid to his son Rip. He asked his favorite son to help him build his new Robo-Amigo as Rip was too "inexperienced" in the robotics area. Without hesitation the roadrunner arrived to the garage, where he began to work.
Slam, after lunch, arrived at the arena where he had a contract to fight. At the moment his fights were against unexperienced players, as his sponsor, Pierre Le Pew, still kept him to fight the great cup champion for later. The demon didn't want to serve just cheap entertainment because he wanted to have fun with the fights, besides being able to have an extra income if it wasn't too much, because the economy wasn't going well lately for him.
Duck came to his apartment, which was extremely messy, with dirty laundry all over the place. It looked like a homeless man lived there. And, honestly, it was near the truth. Despite the ducks´ confident and arrogant behavior, Duck was nothing but a drag on society. Not even that house was his: it was an unpaid hotel room for four months. Duck's life was miserable, and he knew it very well. Only his job of picking up trash from a public pool said it all. Duck threw himself in his bed and looked at a photograph of his adoptive parents, dead at that point. Duck missed them and would do anything to bring them back. It was the best thing that ever happened to him.
Tech returned to college, to the same lab where he spent the rest of the week working. He was already late and had to continue with his armor. He had Lexi's insecurity in mind. The coyote hoped she could solve the problem. But the voice of the roadrunner didn't go out of his mind either. In truth, listening to him speak so much, with that force and speed caused him a terrible headache. He didn't dislike him, on the contrary, they were almost “birds of a feather”, but that voice detail was still there.
Lexi and Ace returned to their apartment. It was humble, the best they could get. With Lexi's scholarship and Ace's salary as a stunt, it was the best they could rent. It was cozy, but Lexi wanted to change. Between the two brothers several discussions had been emerging and Lexi thought the best was to take some time apart. Luckily, she had found support in a coyote, who was willing to share the same roof with her. It was a possible way out.
Ace, meanwhile, was saddened by the constant conflicts with his sister. He understood that she needed her space and was no longer a child, but he was the older brother and their parents had commissioned him to protect her. Was he wrong to want to do his job?
But, despite each other's problems, the same event brought them together. It wasn't their meeting at Pizzarriba. At about 6:30, they all fainted without any apparent explanation. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed and they were taken to the hospital.
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Some general stuff. This is my AU fanfiction of Loonatics Unleashed where the heroes have some solo adventures before they form the team. This is an awfully done introduction. I don´t really trust my English writing abilities, so please tell me if you find any grammatical mistake. If any hero wants to help me with that part I will not be able of thank you enough.
I finally decided to make it a shared universe with my other fanfiction: Los Tres Caballeros viajan de nuevo. I´m not sure if I´ll use any characters referencing that story because I want to focus on the show cast. For now I just want to put the important pieces on place before starting everything.
And feel free to comment. I´ll try to upload more but, I´m finishing this semester and the exams and essays will take my time. Anyway, for those shippers, I may have some Tech/Lexi at the start but I´ll transition it to Tech/Rev and Danger/Lexi.
I hope you like it and happy weekend to everyone.
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anxiousstark · 4 years
Text
S1 05 | Wolf’s Bane
MASTERLIST
Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall
Word count: 2958
Warnings: Mentions of injuries, swearing (always).
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"So wait," I said while stealing some of Stiles's food. He pouted but offered his tray for me to grab some more. I grinned at him, and he stuck his tongue out as an answer. "You guys are telling me that Jackson knows that you are a puppy?"
Scott rolled his eyes. "Ugh, I've been telling you since last night. I'm not a puppy." He was right, puppies are cute and not mean like him. "Uhm, he's watching us." Stiles and I glanced at the table where Jackson was sitting down with his friends. He was gazing at Scott.
Both boys tried to dissimulate, they were getting nervous. But I just continued to look straight at him. "I heard him." They looked at me, confused. "The night at school while I was with you." I glanced at Stiles. "Scott was talking to Allison. I heard him talk in my head. I heard Jackson talk to me inside my head. He knew I could hear him."
"Did he say something?"
"No," I answered back. "He just said that he knew I could hear him."
"Jackson's talking to me. He knows I can hear him. Look at me. Just talk to me. Act normal. Pretend that nothing's happening." Scott was getting even more agitated. "Can you hear him?" He asked me. "I think he kind of controls my thoughts or he can invade them. I only hear him when he wants me to."
Scott peered down at his tray of food, his eyes moving from side to side, and we assumed that Jackson was speaking to him. His hands clenched around the tray, and he ended up splitting it. "Scott," Stiles whispered when he noticed that everyone was watching us. Jackson wasn't in the same room anymore. "Listen. I'm going to go home and try to investigate. Keep an eye on Jackson and Y/N."
"I'm right here, Stiles."
"I know." He reassured. "Jackson wants something with you. We don't know what, but something is going on with both of you." He looked back at Scott. "You have swimming classes, right?" His attention was on me, I nodded. "Jackson and Allison go to the same class, so it is the perfect opportunity, okay?"
We both nodded, parting ways.
After changing into my swimsuit, I went outside, slowly getting into the water. I could see Scott sitting on the bleachers, his eyes focused on Jackson and Allison, who seemed to be talking. I started swimming slowly, enjoying the water. It was peaceful. When I was a child, I used to get into the public pool in my city and play around until I was exhausted. I would get into the water and imagine that my legs were transforming into a beautiful mermaid tail.
I noticed Scott getting uneasy, and I concluded that it was because Allison and Jackson were laughing while they rested on the side of the pool. "Hey, guys," I said when I swam next to them. "Jackson," I faked a smile. "I didn't know you were in the swimming class."
"I'm starting to like it a lot." He said while eyeing Allison. Quite gentle, Jackson. "I suppose you like it too." He said, glancing at me. "Is that a tattoo on your chest?" A tattoo? I didn't have any tattoos.
I was confused, looking down at my chest. Something red was there, and I tried to remember if I had scratched myself too roughly. My fingers softly touched my chest. It was hard.
"Oh my god," Allison said with a big smile. "It's so original. My dad would kill me if I decided to get a tattoo." She looked at it closely. "Are those scales? You must like water a lot to get scales on your chest."
I nodded while swallowing. I had scales on my chest. I peered at Jackson, he was grinning. My eyes searched for Scott, but he was too busy to meet my eyes. I needed to talk to Stiles. Now.
I ran to Stiles's house, and after talking a little with his father, I hurried upstairs. I opened the door of his room without giving it a second thought. He jumped from his chair, staring at me.
"Stiles, what the fuck is going on with me?" His eyes were wide, and they got even wider when I took my shirt off. I was still wearing my swimsuit. "What is this?" I went closer to him while he was getting further from me, pushing his feet against the floor, sliding the chair he was sitting on. "Are these scales?!"
His eyes went from my eyes to my chest, repeatedly. "U-Uhm." His eyes focused on my chest, cheeks getting red as seconds went by. "D-Derek." I saw something move behind me and turned around.
"You!" I pointed at him and went closer. "What is this?" I made a gesture so he would look at my chest. His eyes narrowed, hand moving closer to touch the scales on my chest.
"Woah, Woah." I heard the other boy getting up from the chair. Within seconds he was next to me, slapping Derek's hand before he could touch my chest. "W-what are you doing? D-don't touch her with your sourwolf hands!"
My chest rose up and down. "There are red scales on my chest. Jackson saw them, and he wasn't surprised about it." I paused to breathe. "They are hard. They are real scales, Stiles."
"Have they been there for long?" Hale asked while still looking at the scales.
"No. When I woke up this morning, there was nothing." I let my mind run. "I think they appeared in the swimming class."
"Okay." Derek swallowed, frowning. "I told you, I'm not sure what you are, I need time to investigate." His voice was firm. "I need to investigate a lot of things." I nodded, sitting on Stiles' bed.
"There are scales on my chest, and you are telling me that I'm not fully human, but you also want me to wait to know what the heck am I?" Derek hummed as if it wasn't that important. "What are you both doing here anyway?" I knew he didn't have any information. Not yet. That's why I tried to calm down and change the topic.
"The night we were trapped at the school, Scott sent a text to Allison asking her to meet him there," Stiles explained to Derek.
"So?"
"So it wasn't Scott." He turned around and started clicking on his computer.
"Well, can you find out who sent it?"
"No, not me. But I think I know somebody who can."
I was sitting on Stiles's bed while he talked to Danny. He was cute, and he was part of the lacrosse team. I have never seen him before in school. Although, I have only been there for a couple of days.
"I came here to do lab work. That's what lab partners do." I snorted. Poor boy.
"And we will, once you trace the text." He was looking at him with his hazel puppy eyes, if it was me, I would probably have fallen and helped him with whatever he asked me for. But Danny was harder to convince.
"And what makes you think I know how?"
"He looked up your arrest report." I intervened while still laying down on the boy's bed. Danny glanced at me, his eyes knitted in confusion. "His dad is the Sheriff," I smiled. "And he is a hard-headed boy who always gets what he wants."
"I-I was 13. They dropped the charges." His voice cracked. Imagine being 13 and being able to do that. "No, we're doing lab work." Danny sat next to Stiles while I turned around to look at Derek.
"Does it mean that Jackson isn't human?" He glanced up from the book he was looking at. "Jackson was the boy I met the first day I came to Beacon Hills. We were both attacked that night at the video store. He has been...odd since that night."
"What do you mean?" He closed the book, letting it rest on top of his lap.
"He asked me if the wound was hurting." I paused. "He smelled like death." I swallowed, fiddling with my hands that were now resting on my lap. I needed to ask something, but I was scared that he wouldn't answer me.
"You don't smell like the dead." He replied as he knew what I was thinking. He sighed. "I'm not sure. I know werewolves, were coyotes, foxes, and a lot of creatures. I could identify their smell from afar. But I don't know what you are, yet."
"But you already knew I wasn't human anymore since that night, right?" My eyes searched for an answer in his. "You told Stiles to bring me to school the night that Scott howled." He nodded.
"Hey, Miguel." Stiles turned around in his chair, his gaze directed to Derek. I wanted to snort, but he was a werewolf and could probably rip my neck. "I thought I told you you could borrow one of my shirts." He made a gesture with his face to where his wardrobe was while Derek tightened his jaw; throwing the book to the bed and hitting my leg, bitch. Stiles was going to end up being killed by him. "So anyway, I mean, we both know you have the skills to trace that text, so we should probably-"
"Uh, Stiles?" Danny and I were completely distracted by Derek Hale, sorry, by Miguel, not having a shirt on. He was quite fit.
"Yes?"
"This. No fit."
"Then try something else on. Sorry." I rolled my eyes and went closer to Stiles, resting my hands on his shoulders, and whispering in his ear that Danny was gay.
Stiles got the idea. "Hey, that one looks pretty good, huh? What do you think, Danny? The shirt."
"It's-it's not really his color." Derek took the shirt off. It wasn't his color, to be honest.
"You swing for a different team, but you still play ball. Don't you, Danny boy?" He grinned, while he went closer to our 'new friend'. "You're a horrible person."
I laughed loudly. "I know. It keeps him awake at night."
Stiles grinned at me, slapping one of my hands that were resting close to his chest. "Anyway, about that text."
"Stiles! None of these fit." I walked back to Derek and started looking inside Stiles's wardrobe. "Ugh, he only has plaids." I snickered. Their styles were too different, and their bodies weren't alike. Stiles wasn't bulk, but you could notice that he was fit.
"The text was sent from a computer. This one." After choosing a shirt for Derek, we went closer to both boys.
"Registered to that account name?"
"That can't be right." My eyes widened. Melissa McCall. It couldn't be her. Why would she do that? She didn't know anything about Scott being a werewolf, but she was the only one who could use her account in the hospital, right?
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I was sitting in the back of Stiles's jeep while he and Derek were in the front. I tightened my arms around myself, feeling a little cold. Thankfully, Stiles had let me borrow one of his red hoodies, which calmed me down, even though I felt uneasy.
Derek clutched the phone and Stiles's hand, trying to talk to Scott, who was on the other line. "Hey, is there something on the back of it? There's gotta be something. An inscription, an opening, something." Scott was in the lacrosse match while the three of us were sitting inside the jeep, and outside the hospital where Melissa worked.
"No, no, the thing's flat. And, no, it doesn't open. There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing." He now referred to Stiles. "And where are you? You're supposed to be here. You're first line." We heard Coach in the background, but what he was saying could not be understood clearly. "Man, you're not gonna play if you're not here to start."
"I know. Look, if you see my dad, can you tell him-tell him I'll be there, I'll just be a little bit late, okay? All right, thanks." I examined his face from the rearview mirror. Stiles was so excited to finally play lacrosse that he didn't mind that Coach was calling him Bilinski. But now, he wasn't going to be able to play.
"You're not gonna make it."
"I know." He talked fastly. "And you didn't tell him about his mom, either."
"Not till we find out the truth." As I believed, Stiles was a great friend. He was putting Scott's feelings before his. He was finally going to play, and his dad was going to be there to see him. He wanted his dad to be proud of him. I'm sure in his little head, he was thinking that his dad was going to be mad. Stiles's dad was already proud of him, I could tell. It must be nice to have a dad that loves you.
"By the way, one more thing."
"Yeah." We both turned our heads towards Derek. He had put his hand on the back of Stiles's head, and pushed him against the wheel, hitting him.
"Oh my gosh, Derek!" I hit his shoulder. "Stiles, are you okay?" "Oh, God! What the hell was-"
"You know what that was for. Go." He pointed at him. "You too." He was now looking at me, Stiles was already out of the car. "Go!"
"What?" I said. "Are you going to hit me too?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Because I will grab your fucking neck and-" I was pushed out of the car by Stiles. "No, no. He needs to be given a lesson." Stiles continued dragging me while Derek smirked, and I glared at him.
"Yeah, I said I can't find her." Stiles was on the phone talking. We both have walked around the hospital, but it was too quiet and there was nobody. We went inside a room, it was empty. "Yeah, well, he's not here either." I walked further into the room. Nothing. There were no personal items, and the bed was perfectly made. "He's not here. He's gone, Derek."
I hear Derek raising his voice from the phone. I turned around to find Stiles with wide eyes, his hand falling from his ear. "Y/N, we need to get out of here." He ran the little distance that was between us, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the room.
"You must be Stiles." I swallowed when I saw a man with a half-burnt face. His eyes glanced at me. "And you must be the new creature." Stiles grip stiffened on me. We both started walking backward, turning around to run away.
"What are you doing here? Visiting hours are over."
"You - and him. You're-you're the one who- Oh, my- and he's- Oh, my God, we gonna die." He ran his free hand through his hair. As soon as he said that, Derek appeared, elbowing the nurse on the face. She fell to the floor, unconscious or dead. I can't tell.
"That's not nice. She's my nurse." Peter Hale lectured. The day I was told that Scott was a werewolf, was the day they updated me of everything. And without knowing Peter Hale, I already hated him. "She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people. Get out of the way."
"Oh, damn." Stiles brought me to the floor, his chest pressing against my back as I was sitting between his legs. Derek's eyes became an ice blue, like mine were when we were at school the other night. His fangs came out, and I couldn't help but gasp.
"You think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family? My mind, my personality was literally burned out of me. I was being driven by pure instinct."
They both started fighting. Peter threw Derek against the wall, creating a hole in it. Stiles and I started moving on the floor, trying to get away from them. We could still hear them fight, and it seemed like Derek couldn't hold up with Peter's strength.
Stiles started looking around. "What are you thinking?" I asked in a whisper. "Don't do anything crazy, Stilinski."
He continued searching around. "We need to help him."
"That is a psychopath. We are humans!" I tried to make him look at him.
"We are humans, but that doesn't mean we don't help." He grabbed a computer screen from a table, and with determination started walking towards Peter. Derek stared at me, his eyes then focused on Stiles when he saw my expression.
"Stiles!" I called for him but he continued to walk towards the oldest Hale. Peter turned around, smirking. He started walking towards Stiles. I got up from the floor, falling when I stepped over myself. I followed Peter with my eyes while I got up from the ground again. Stiles threw the computer screen at him, but Peter dodged it. His fangs came out, and he ran towards Stiles. But I did too.
I didn't know what happened. But I made a hole in the wall with Peter's body. My right hand was grasping around his neck, he was trying to set himself free, but he couldn't and gasped for air. "S-s-scales." I looked at the arm that was stretched out, choking him. Red scales decorated my wrist. I turned around, terrified by myself.
"Hey." My eyes went to Stiles. "You are okay. There's nothing wrong." Stiles came closer to me, and he made me let Peter go while Derek went to Peter.
"I-I don't know how I-"
"It's okay." He embraced me, my face hiding on his chest.
.
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