#story twelve

[chasingmidnights]

13 Nights of Halloween: Campfire Stories; Story Twelve

Title: The Elevator Game

Storyteller: Nick Fowler 

Summary: Urban legend or portal to another world? 

Warnings: First, this is 18+, minors DNI! Warnings include but not limited to: angst; soft!dark; mentions of alcohol; cursing; mentions of suicide; implied mental health problems; mentions of medication use; the Elevator Game; and I believe that’s all of it. I apologize if I missed anything but you are responsible for what you read and what you consume on the internet. I do not claim to be a professional writer, any & all mistakes are my own; nothing is beta read. By clicking ‘keep reading’, you agree to these warnings and that you are over 18. 

Wordcount: 1,263

As the last night camping with your friends rolled around, you couldn’t help but feel a bit emotional. Sure, you were still going to see them once you returned home but it wouldn’t be the same. Despite that, you still felt excited about tonight’s story and you were anxious to see what Nick had in store for everyone. The moon was high in the sky and not a single cloud in sight, it was turning out to be a good night. Smoke from the fire filtered up towards the sky and the fire started to crackle intensely. 

Nick rubbed his hand together as he sat on the edge of his chair, a grin had formed on his face. “So, who’s ready for a story?” 

“Ooo, yeah, I’m definitely ready for a story.” Jake said excitedly. 

“Yeah, I’m ready for one.” Wanda agreed as she took a drink of her beer. 

“Great!” Nick clapped his hands together before he took something out of his back pocket, his face suddenly solemn. He flipped the folded up piece of paper as he spoke. “Y’all have heard of the Elevator Game, right?” 

The group looked around at one another, looks of confusion on everyone’s faces, even your own face. 

“What the hell is the Elevator Game?” Ransom asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

Nick let out a huff of air as he started to unfold the piece of paper. “The Elevator Game, in simple terms, is supposedly a step-by-step ritual that’s believed by some to be a sort of portal to other worlds. The game is believed to have originated from Korea and Japan and according to believers, you need to follow the rules exactly. If you stray from the rules, well, let’s just say it’s not a good thing. My friend learned that the hard way as she tried to play the game and failed. I’m still not sure how she was able to send this email to me, but in this email, it shares her experience. 

“The subject of the email says, ‘I fucked up’, and at first I thought maybe she had sent me some kind of chain letter. But as I kept reading, I realized that it was her own words, recognizing the way she typed. In the beginning of her email, she claims that she never meant for any of it to happen and that she did her best to follow the rules. Especially since the rules were so important. She stated in the email that she had heard about the Elevator Game from another friend of hers and she had wanted to test it out before Spring Break was over. So, one night, she had decided that she was going to go to a nearby hotel, late at night and play the game. Her email reads: 

“‘Nicky, I hate to say this, but this is the last that you’ll probably hear from me. You see, I royally fucked up on playing the Elevator Game. I tried so hard to follow the rules, even had them written down on a small notepad so that I wouldn’t forget. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken my meds beforehand, you know how fuzzy my brain gets while I’m on them. But either way, I fucked up. Please forgive me Nicky, I really did think it was just a game. I didn’t realize that it would lead me to my demise. 

“The game is not to be taken lightly and if you take anything away from this final message from me, take my warning seriously and DON’T PLAY! Please, I beg you. I chose the nearby hotel because I knew it had at least 10 floors, thirteen to be exact. Maybe I should’ve taken that as a warning to not go through with it, but I was determined. Taking a deep breath, I walked straight to the elevator and pressed the up button. Thankfully, there was no one in the lobby and I could proceed. I was doing this solo, so if anyone else had gotten on, I would’ve had to wait and start over. When I got inside of the elevator, I quickly looked at my notepad and pressed the button for the fourth floor. The bell rang when the elevator reached the fourth floor and everything seemed normal, so I continued and pressed the button for the second floor. I had just started and I was already starting to doubt that this game was even real and that I was just wasting my time. 

“However, that is until the elevator slowly descended to the fifth floor after going up to the tenth. When the elevator got to the fifth floor, the doors slowly creaked open and I got instant chills. The lights in the hallway flickered and buzzed, it was nothing like the other floors. Not to mention that there was a horrible smell. I only peeked out into the hallway for a moment, my curiosity getting the best of me but I didn’t fully leave the elevator. As I turned around to press the button to the first floor, I was met with an unsightly, old woman. She was short and was hunched over, her presence demanded to be felt. The stench that I had first smelled when I reached the fifth floor was now coming from her. I could tell that her black robes were too big for her and the hood covered the top portion of her face, not able to see her eyes. I truly did my best to ignore her like how it says you’re supposed to. 

“The descent down to the first floor felt like an eternity and having this being in the elevator only worsened my anxieties. I kept to a corner of the elevator, trying to keep my distance but I found myself glancing over at her. I could feel my attitude changing the longer it stayed quiet and I kept telling myself not to interact with her. When the doors finally opened on the first floor, I bolted out of the elevator and out of the hotel. Completely forgetting not to talk to anyone as I exited, I said goodnight to the night manager. A week had passed since I played that game and throughout the week, I kept seeing that old, hag of a woman. She was always there and at first, I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I stopped taking my meds thinking that maybe it would help somehow, but it didn’t. I kept seeing her and one day, I blew up on her as I was out running errands, it was not a pretty sight. People thought I was crazy and maybe I was. Once the week was over, I decided that I couldn’t do it anymore.” 

Nick let out a heavy sigh as he folded up the paper and stared into the flames of the fire. 

“Wait, what happened?” Kate asked as she stared at Nick, waiting for an answer. 

“That’s the end of the email. She was found dead a few days later, suicide.” Nick explained, he then took a long drink of his beer. 

“I’m sorry about that bud.” Ari said, sympathy laced his voice and his facial expressions. 

A heavy silence filled the air as everyone took in Nick’s story, not even the wind made a sound. After a moment, Johnny clapped his hands, startling everyone. 

“Alright, who’s next? Has everyone gone?” Johnny asked as he glanced around at his friends.

“I’ve got one.” You chirped, ready to finally tell your story.

#13 nights of halloween #campfire stories #story twelve #multi fandom #multi fandom event #storyteller: nick fowler #nick fowler fanfiction #nick fowler fandom #nick fowler drabble #nick fowler #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan characters

[noughticalcrossings]

Put thee not on Silent

#cattle rustling for fun and profit #king arthur #sir gawain #sir bedivere #arthuriana #this is my very silly epistolary story which I love dearly #someone please get Bedivere a red bull or twelve hours uninterrupted sleep STAT #also I got lazy and decided that Dev Patel Gawain was a cool enough design to steal #maybe I should introduce you to my original idiots #my art #my comics

[stil-lindigo]

the fox god.

a comic about a trickster.

--

creative notes:

–

all my other comics

store

#cw: emotional abuse #cw: gaslighting #cw: animal death #charity - a god whose name was only ever meant to be ironic #i love playing with the concept of religion like this #im not religious at all but i did go to a christian school for twelve years #and i remember learning about the story of abraham. who long story short gets told by god to kill his son to prove his love for god. #and at the veeeery last minute god goes sike! this was a test to see if you'd do it! here's a lamb to slaughter instead #but the whole concept of that exchange in and of itself is so #anyway #one thing i meant to include in the creative notes but i ran out of room for is that charity never calls cunning by his name. #it's just “fox”. which was a small touch to indicate that he never acknowledged cunning's identity outside of being something exploitable. #but for all charity's hidden disdain for cunning #he still stole all his strengths and coveted them. he became known as the fox god. #so maybe some part of cunning survived. despite everything. #“give me your heart.” #“my god. it had always been yours.” #comic art #hearteaters #stillindigo art #stillindigo comics #one more comic to go until im finished with this collection!!

[romansmartini]

can we hold hands and listen to this together

#good omens #SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE. #aziraphale calling crowley dear boy ... aziraphale drunk voice ... aziraphale interrupting with meaningless facts and pissing crowley off #the bird spaceship in particular SOOO FUNNY #“what bird 🤨😐” “thebirdimtalkingabout” aziraphale said ARE YOU TALKING TO OTHER GIRLS. YES OR NO. #also love to hear the story about the bird. happened to my buddy twelve #i had a lot to say but i had to clip this so many times i forgor. give me stuff to talk about im ready for that #wait i remembered. aziraphale talking about the kraken and the “yeah?” “Fact.” oh god crowley wants him so bad

[simplyavatrice]

nobody does it like her

#ava silva #avatrice #warrior nun #warriornunedit #avasilvaedit #avatriceedit #alba baptista #no character has come around quite like her #nobody has her heart #her personality #her depth #like this girl was paralyzed #and it never feels out of place in her story #because alba puts so much emotion into everything so many little details #but she's such a shining light of hope and love and determination #the fact that she finds love and family for the first time in twelve years and fights for it with everything she has #for herself and her future #for the world once she figures out how much she loves it #for her family #the one she finds and so desperately wanted #then for bea #her bea #who she loves with her whole fucking heart and soul #and is ready to give up the future she spent twelve years lying around dreaming about #nobody does it like ava silva #NOBODY #anyway i'll never be over her #myedits

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Times Caligula was probably fucking with people

I have a pet theory that at least some of Caligula's "madness" was really him being a huge troll and screwing with people, and that several incidents the ancient historians take seriously were shitty jokes taken out of context. From Suetonius, Gaius:

Wandering into emperor Tiberius' bedroom at night with a dagger, thinking, "Eh..." and wandering back out. (12)

Chucking money into crowds to make people scramble for it. (18, 26)

Telling people "I'm gonna fuck the moon." (22)

Getting into arguments with a statue of Jupiter. (22)

Constantly pranking his uncle Claudius. (23)

[Caligula's daughter violently attacks her playmates] Caligula: "Yep, she's definitely mine." (25)

Promising an exciting gladiator show and then swapping in old shitty fighters at the last second. (26)

Reminding people "I could kill you whenever I like." (29, 32)

Grumbling about how the empire was too peaceful and there was nothing heroic left for him to do. (31)

"Everyone reads Homer. I should ban him and see what happens." (34)

Leading an army to the coast, making them gather seashells as "spoils of war," then telling them "Treat yourselves!" on the tiny monetary bonus he awarded them. (46)

Practicing goofy faces in his mirror to freak people out. (50)

Invites three terrified senators to the palace in the dead of night. Jumps out from behind a curtain and does a song and dance number in drag. Refuses to explain. Leaves. (54)

Does not actually make his horse consul, but pampers it so much people said he wanted to. (55)

Taunts the praetorian guards with so many "sissy" jokes they get fed up and shank him. (56, 58)

When people heard he was dead they thought he was pulling a stunt. (60)

#i left out the really dark/gory stuff. reader beware if you look these up! #also take everything suetonius says with a truckload of salt. many of these stories are probably false #still funny tho #suetonius #caligula #jlrrt reads #jlrrt essays #the twelve caesars is a comedy

[littlerosette]

i think more people should talk about how mr and mrs. everdeen’s relationship echoes that of peeta and katniss’s relationship and what this means for their obvious soulmatery

#the merchant x seam pairing #love at first listen (when they sing) #how katniss falls apart after peeta’s (spiritual) ‘death’ the same way her mother fell apart after her husband’s #i think suzanne purposefully infused everlark’s love story with a lot of magic and fatedness and symbolism #like i can go on and on about their epithets being the twelve wedding ceremony #and them getting ‘married’ as children when he gives her the bread #it’s so intentional and beautiful god i will never get over it #the hunger games #everlark #mr everdeen x mrs everdeen

[grandadtwelve]

s10 twelve is twelve at peace. post-heaven sent clara is clara at peace. with their mutually obsessive link broken, twelve is free to love and care for others without clara eclipsing everything else just by being near him. without the restraints of twelves morality and her own mortality, clara is free to live recklessly, to keep going forever. the people they are at the end of their story don’t work together, but they only BECAME those people because they were put together.

at the start, clara is a schoolteacher trying to maintain a committed relationship. at the start, twelve is afraid that he is heartless. they want to become more like the other. and they succeed.

swap! twelve is a schoolteacher who reestablishes a committed relationship with his wife (as well as makes a different kind of commitment to missy). and clara is, functionally, literally heartless.

#like who would have thought. at the beginning of their story who would of thought this is who they would become #this as close to verbalizing these thoughts as I’m going to get #anyway. they’re so interesting #twelve & clara #twelveclara #twelfth doctor #clara oswald #doctor who #mios #dw analysis #500 #1k #show d later tag

[bookshelf-in-progress]

The Turning of the Year: A Cinderella Retelling

In a long-ago year, in a faraway land, there lived a girl named Alena. She lived in the house of a cruel stepmother, who hated her because she was so much prettier than her own daughter, and who made Alena do all the work of the house. Though the stepmother let her eat only scraps and wear only rags, Alena grew only more kind and beautiful as the year's went by, while her own daughter, Vanda, grew ever more coarse and cruel.

Now one December, it became known that the king of the land would host a grand ball in the city upon the eve of the New Year. Alena, like all other girls, wished to attend, and asked her stepmother if she could go. Her stepmother promised that she could, in order to convince Alena to work even harder in the weeks before.

But when New Year's Eve arrived, and Alena asked if she could dress for the ball, her stepmother cried, "A ball? When there is so much work to do? We must cast out the old year! You shall attend no ball before the house is cleaned. If there is even a speck of dust left in this house at midnight, you shall bring bad luck upon us all--and it shall be very bad luck for you.”

With that, her stepmother left the house, along with her own daughter, Vanda, to purchase trimmings for their dresses at the ball.

Scarcely had Alena begun to clean the kitchen when she heard footsteps near the back garden gate. When Alena peered outside, she found an old woman walking alone, her back so bent she could not stand without her staff, and her hair so white the snowflakes seemed dark upon it.

“Good mother!” Alena cried, rushing to the woman’s aid. “Come inside to warm yourself! It is no weather for traveling.”

The old woman took a seat by the fire with thanks, and gladly shared the crust of bread that was the only meal Alena’s stepmother had given her.

“You are good to an old woman,” the stranger said. “Yet that is no surprise, for you have been good the whole year through.”

“You do not know me,” Alena said in surprise.

“But I do,” the woman replied, “for I am the Old Year. You have shown me kindness near the end of my journey, so I will be glad to do what I can to help you in yours. What troubles you, child?”

Alena said with sorrow, “My stepmother will not let me attend the prince’s ball until I have cleaned every speck of dust from the house.”

“That is easily done,” the Old Year said, “for April shall reign in this house for the hour.”

With that, though the woman remained old and bent upon her stool, she also seemed somehow to be tall and straight, young and beautiful, with apple blossoms in her golden hair. In the garden outside, the snow clouds cleared away for springtime sun, and warm breezes blew through the house, gathering all the dirt and dust and soot and spreading it neatly in the gardens outside. While spring reigned, Alena gathered blossoming branches from the garden and placed them in jars around the house. Before the hour was over, the house shone. The old woman then lost her youthful aura, and winter returned to the gardens outside.

Alena thanked the Old Year from the bottom of her heart, but at that moment, her stepmother and stepsister returned. Alena, knowing that her stepmother would beat her for letting a ragged stranger into the house, hid the Old Year in the pantry just before her mother entered the kitchen.

“You lazy girl!” Stepmother shouted, when she saw Alena sitting on the stool near the fireplace. “Why are you sitting when the house must be cleaned?”

“It is clean, Stepmother,” Alena replied.

Her stepmother protested, but when she inspected the house, she found not a speck of dust.

She returned to the kitchen filled with rage, for she did not wish Alena to attend the ball and outshine her own daughter in the presence of the prince. When there, she saw the sacks of grain that Alena had moved out of the pantry to make room for the old woman.

“Aha!” her stepmother said. “You have forgotten the grain! We cannot enter the old year with bad grain. You must sift through every kernel so you can throw out the bad and keep the good. If this is not done before midnight, it will be a bad year for you.”

With that, her stepmother and Vanda returned to their rooms to prepare their dresses for the ball. Alena wept by the fireplace, and when she let the old year back into the kitchen, she told her the new task her stepmother had given her.

“That is no trouble,” the Old Year said. “Dry your eyes, child, for July shall reign in this house for the hour.”

Though the woman remained as old as ever, Alena thought she could also see her as a woman of middle age, with roses in hair just beginning to go gray. Through the windows flew every one of summer’s songbirds--warblers, robins, thrushes, vireos, orioles, flycatchers, tanagers, grosbeaks. At the Old Year’s commands, they opened the sacks, and threw the good grain into the barrels and the bad out the back door.

The gardens outside were lush and green, and Alena spent the hour in the sunshine, gathering strawberries, raspberries, and roses by the armful. The birds finished their work before the hour was over, and then flew out the doorway. The sunshine faded, the snow returned, and Alena thanked the Old Year with all her heart.

Just then, her stepmother emerged from her rooms, and Alena hid the Old Year in the pantry once more. Her stepmother and Vanda were fully dressed for the ball, but they had been so absorbed in their own looks that they had not seen even a moment of the summer that had filled the house.

"The grain is sorted, Stepmother," Alena said. "That means I can go to the ball."

With anger in her heart, her stepmother sorted through the grain, but she could not find one bad kernel to blame Alena for.

"You stupid girl!" she said at last. "Just because the grain is sorted, it doesn't mean your work is done. You have forgotten the mattresses! We cannot meet the new year in beds filled with last year's down! You must empty all the mattresses and stuff them all with fresh feathers before you can even think of attending the ball!"

She forced Alena to drag the mattresses to the kitchen, and then she and Vanda returned to their rooms to finish dressing their hair.

With that, Alena fell to weeping once again. The Old Year emerged and asked what troubled her.

"My stepmother demands I restuff the mattresses before I can attend the ball."

"That is no trouble," the Old Year said. "September shall reign in this house for the hour."

The next moment, though the woman remained old and bent, Alena also saw her as a woman not quite so old, with an elegant bearing and iron-gray hair that was woven with autumn leaves. The light outside became golden, while the plants in the garden grew brown and dry, and the trees bore apples among flaming leaves.

The sky grew dark as the air filled with the sound of beating wings, and in a moment, geese and ducks of every kind filled the gardens. The birds filed through the door, and at the Old Year's command, they pulled the old feathers from the mattresses and replaced them with a few feathers pulled from their own wings and tails and breasts. While the birds worked, Alena went to the gardens and gathered sweet apples from the groaning trees.

When the hour was over, the birds flew away, leaving behind mattresses plump with fresh new feathers. Alena thanked the Old Year with all her heart, then flew up the stairs to prepare for the ball.

Her stepmother met her in the hall outside her bedchamber, her hair dressed and ready for the ball.

"I have finished the work, Stepmother," Alena said, "so I will be able to go with you to the ball."

Her stepmother did not believe her, but when Alena brought the mattresses upstairs, she found them so plump and clean and fresh that she could find no fault to blame Alena for.

"You foolish child," her stepmother said at last, so angry she could barely speak. "You cannot possibly attend the ball, for you have nothing suitable to wear."

"I have one dress," Alena said. She flew into her dark, drafty little room and emerged with a gown that had once belonged to her mother. "This dress will fit me, and it is fit to be seen even by a king."

Her stepmother could see that in such a dress, even old as it was, Alena would still far outshine her own daughter in the prince's eyes. She tore the dress from Alena's hands, and with hands made strong by fury, she tore at the seams until the dress tore in two.

"This rag?" Her stepmother cried. "You cannot attend the ball in something so old. I would not have you come and give shame to us all. You must stay here and greet the new year alone."

With that, she and Vanda put on their cloaks, stepped in their carriage, and departed for the ball, leaving Alena weeping in the hallway.

While she wept, the Old Year came to her side and asked what troubled her.

"I am without hope," Alena said. "Though all the work is done, I cannot attend the ball, for I have nothing but rags to wear."

"Nonsense, child," the Old Year said. "You shall be the finest woman there, for you will be clothed in all the bounty of the year."

The Old Year helped Alena to her feet, and through tear-filled eyes, Alena saw the woman change, so she seemed old and young and middle-aged all at once. In the gardens outside, spring blossoms sprouted beside summer's roses, and autumn's leaves blazed over winter's snow. Sun and snow and wind and rain all seemed to fill the little hall where Alena stood. Her limp hair piled high atop her head and was crowned with the blossoms of spring. Her rags became a gown as soft as the petals of summer's roses, and bright with autumn's crimson and gold. A cloak of winter-white feathers stretched from her shoulders to the ground, and her feet were shod in shoes of winter's ice, which through some miracle neither froze her feet nor melted upon the floor.

"Old Mother!" Alena cried in gratitude, throwing her arms around the old woman. "I cannot thank you enough."

"You have earned it," the Old Year said, "but I warn you that I will fade away at midnight's chime, and when I go, my gifts will disappear. You must leave quickly, child, while time lasts."

With that, another wind, warm and icy all at once, wrapped itself around Alena and lifted her through the window. In moments, she found herself before the king's palace, which was all lit up for the festival.

At the ball, her beauty far outshone every woman there, and the dancers stopped dancing to whisper about this strange foreign princess who had arrived with no escort. The king, seeing her, was enchanted at once, and asked for her hand in the dance. For the rest of the night, Alena danced with no other, and found the king as kind and handsome as all the tales had claimed.

The hours flew by in what seemed like moments, until just as the king led her out toward a balcony, the palace clock began to chime the midnight hour.

"The new year has come!" the king declared, but Alena fled from him, out of the palace, down the stairs, and to the dark and snow-covered city streets. The Old Year's wind--what was left of it--found her and carried her through the midnight sky, but at the stroke of twelve, it faded away, dropping Alena into her house's back garden, clad once more in her rags. A single shoe of winter's ice clung to her left foot--though the Old Year's gifts had faded, winter still reigned, so only that season's gift remained.

The king, when she fled, ran after her, but he could find no trace of where his partner had gone, save one token, dropped in the place where the wind had picked her up--a single shoe made of winter's unmelting ice. The king declared that he would marry no woman save for the one who fit the miraculous shoe, and at the first light of dawn, he left the palace in search of her.

He had not gone far when he came across a girl child, barely old enough to walk, with hair as soft and golden as the sun's first rays.

"Where are you going?" the child asked him, in a voice too strong and clear for one so young. The king knew at once that he spoke to the newborn Year.

"I search for the woman I love," the king said, "though I have nothing to find her save the shoe she left behind."

"I know her well," the New Year said, "for she was a great friend of my mother's. You will find her in a house at the edge of the city, where spring's blossoms sit next to summer's roses and autumn's fresh apples."

With many thanks, the king swept the child onto his horse, wrapped her in his cloak, and sped off toward the far edge of the city. Before long, he came upon Alena's house, and knew it by the baskets of blossoms, roses and apples she had kept by the kitchen window.

When Alena's stepmother had come home from the ball, she had seen the signs of autumn, spring and summer in her kitchen, and knew that Alena had been the princess at the ball. She searched in Alena's room and found the partner to the shoe the prince held, then she seized Alena by the hair and locked her deep within the cellar. As she saw the prince approach, she fetched Vanda--her own ugly, cruel daughter--and perched her near the window with the blossoming roses, with the shoe of ice upon her foot.

The king rode to the house's entrance and presented himself by the main doors. Alena's stepmother greeted him with warm joy and welcomed him inside. While she took the king's cloak and tended to his boots, she did not see the small child toddle from the prince's side and make her way to the room where Vanda sat waiting.

Once there, the New Year reached her tiny hands toward the loaf of bread that Alena had baked only that morning. "Might I have something to eat?" she asked Vanda.

"Go away, little girl," Vanda said crossly. "Don't you know that the prince is here?"

The New Year asked for bread again, and once more, Vanda scolded her. At last, the child began to cry, and Vanda hit her on the ear and sent her tumbling to the floor.

Red-faced and crying, the New Year rose to her feet and told Vanya. "You are a cruel, selfish girl. Your heart is cold as ice, and so it is winter that will reign in this house today."

With her words, all the doors and windows of the room flew open, and a wind as cold as death blew in. Snow blew into the room and fell in drifts upon the floor. Before long, Vanda's lips and hands were blue, but her feet, encased in blocks of freezing ice, were black as coal.

Vanya's screams drew her mother to her side, and the king, alarmed, trailed in after her. He saw the girl with blackened feet, and though one foot wore the slipper of ice, he knew she was not the girl he sought. He feared that these cruel women had done her some great harm.

While Vanya's mother tended to her and sent for the doctor, the king saw the New Year standing in a drift of snow. He lifted her onto a stool, wrapped her in his cloak, and asked her, "Where is the woman I love? You promised she was here, yet I do not see her, and there are no other women in this house."

"You will find her in the one place where winter did not touch," the New Year said, "for her heart is too warm to be touched by ice."

The king waded through the kitchen's drifting snow and opened the door of the pantry. There, he saw all the house's food stores covered in snow and ice, but with not a flake covering the small door that led to the cellar. With a few blows, the door broke open, and the king pulled Alena out into the morning light.

"I have found you at last," the king cried in joy, and knelt before her with the slipper of ice. "You have my heart," the king replied, "and if you are willing, I would make you my bride."

With a smile, Alena said, "I will gladly be your wife."

With joy, the king took Alena to his home and introduced her to his court as his chosen bride. The people were charmed at once by her beauty and her kindness, and before the month was over, she was wed to the king and became queen over all the land. Her stepmother and stepsister, with Vanya maimed and their food frozen, became paupers, because they, in their pride, refused all of Alena's charity. Their cruelty gained them no friends, and before the winter's end, they were found, frozen to death, in winter's snow.

Alena, reigning as queen by her husband's side, became beloved by all the land. She and her husband remained pure of soul and warm of heart, and together they all lived happily for all the rest of their years.

#the bookshelf progresses #fairy tale retellings #cinderella #have one last fairy tale #i've wanted to do a new year's eve cinderella #and one that mashed it up with the story of the twelve months that i've liked since i was a kid #i came up with the angle when i woke up the morning of the 30th #and decided i had to pull it together before the end of the year #i had wanted to do a full story but it only seemed to work as a fairy tale #(i also wanted to have the twelve months as separate men like in the fairy tale) #(but in practice hiding twelve men made the story ridiculous) #(and the new year as one woman seemed to work both from the fairy godmother angle and the new year angle) #i hope it's not too boring or trite #i just had to write it as quickly as possible #this was just how it came out so i'll have to go with it

[icarus-star]

hi hi helloooo i saw ur reqs were back open and i am just here to ask for the dirtiest thing in ur mind that you can come up with for chris. literally no plot, no subject, i cant come up with anything else i just want dirty sex w him ,, thank you in advance :3

champagne & sunshine. | chris kenton ♥︎

cw: floor sex!! shower sex!! desperate sex!! that sexy kind of sex!! 69, standing doggy style?? also kind of implied squirting. fem!reader.

you lay on the floor with chris attacking your neck with little kisses, his hand already touching on you underneath your shirt. earlier, he had asked you to come over to study for a chemistry test, so... you weren't exactly not doing that, right?

"you're so pretty.." he muttered as he nuzzled his nose against your skin, his left hand darting up to your breast as he squeezed it lightly, catching your nipple between his index and thumb. you let out a soft whine at the pinch, your own hands still buried in chris's hair.

chris giggled, slipping your shirt off for you, beginning to pepper your chest with kisses, sucking softly at times as well. "mm, chris, please~" you moaned breathlessly, slumping against the side of chris's bed as the two of you sat on the floor. you pawed at chris's sweatpants, yanking them off of him, causing his hard cock to pop out and smack against his lower belly.

you giggled at the sound, jerking him off for a moment before asking; "do you have any condoms?" even though you knew he did. he nodded briefly before sliding the drawer to his bedside tables open, scanning for the condoms he was looking for. "ultra ribbed", "bareback", "double ecstasy", "strawberry flavored" -- "strawberry flavored"!

he took out one of the wrapped condoms from the box, ripping through the thin material to get to the latex which it held. he rolled it onto his hard cock, looking up at you afterwards. "suck me off?" he asked quickly with soft blue puppy dog eyes.

you grinned, pushing him to lay on the floor as you climbed on top of him. your face was right in front of his cock, and his face was now right in front of your pussy. he knew just what you wanted. he groaned quietly as you licked teasingly slow stripes along his shaft.

while you worked on his dick, chris slowly began licking your cunt. he slid his tongue in, slipping it out to suck on your sensitive clit. he knew he was doing good when you moaned around his dick, and the vibrations of that made him accidentally buck up and push deeper into your mouth, nearing your throat.

as nearly his whole cock was in your mouth, you tasted the flavor of fake strawberries on the condom, it was sweet and only made you want to take his entire length more. you choked and gagged as he slid down your throat. every little noise you made reverberated through chris's dick, making him moan into your cunt.

"y'taste so fuckin' good..~" he moaned, slurping at your arousal, his nose nudging into your pussy. you grinded against his face, practically suffocating him with your sex, but it only made him hornier. chris's hips subconsciously bucked up and down, forcing his cock in and out of your throat. before he could cum at all, you pulled away. with your fingers, you pulled the condom off of his dick, absentmindedly tossing it into the little trash can underneath his desk.

"wanna swallow your cum," you mumbled before returning to slobbering all over his throbbing dick. and you did exactly what you wanted. his tip erupted with that familiar clear-ish sticky substance, it poured into your mouth, and you felt as the heat melted down your throat.

chris's whines and moans where muffled by your pussy as he continued to sloppily eat your out, his mouth on every single sensitive part of you. "feels s'fuckin' good, wan'you to cum f'me..." he mumbled out, though it was beyond incoherent. his brain seemed more fucked out than his body, considering how good his tongue was fucking you.

he kept a good rhythm with his tongue going in and out, and your clit pressed against his chin. it was just enough. with a loud moan, you came all over chris's face. "fuuuckk! fuckfuckfuck!!" you spouted as you came down from your high, panting as you got off of chris.

he sat up, smiling at your weakened physical state. all from just his mouth. "i'll go start the shower." he said softly, moving some of your hair out of your face.

moments after you heard the pattering noise of the shower, you made your way to the bathroom. you noticed chris trying to find the perfect temperature of the water, one that you both can enjoy being in. he noticed you and turned his head. "feel any better?" he giggled.

you rolled your eyes, stepping into the shower with chris. you let out a soft moan as you felt the warm water pouring over your skin, though it was all cut short by chris interrupting you. "you're hoggin' the water. :(" he sighed, hugging you from behind so that he could get space underneath the showerhead.

"chriiissss~" you whined, now feeling the heat of his body against yours. before anymore words could be exchanged, you felt something.. hard pushing against your lower back. "chris.." you repeat, a much less playful tone in your voice.

nervously, chris swallowed back. "sorry, um, you're just.. so pretty right now.." he stammered, his hand placed on your hip. but he was right. you looked good like this. your body shined from the water and your hair was wet, he couldn't help feeling what he did.

you smiled, you knew that he felt bad, but you knew that he probably wants to fuck you real bad right now. you leaned you head back, resting it on his shoulder as you began to grind your ass against his dick. chris let out a small gasp, having not expected this from you.

he placed both of his hands on your hips, accepting this dirty gesture from you. "fuck..." he said in a mere whisper as he watched you. "please.. i needa fuck you.." he whispered into your ear.

you caught him in a messy kiss, allowing him to slip his dick into your pussy in the process. he let out a low groan, his mouth open just enough for you to slide your tongue in. he thrusted sloppily, lost in the messy kiss.

chris kept one of his hand's on your hips, pushing your front side against the cold tile wall in the shower. his other hand played with your clit, trying different patterns until he found the one that would often make you moan the loudest. the sound of skin clapping and water falling down on the floor was all that each of you could hear, along with the moans that were ripped from either one of you with each thrust.

chris became lazier as he felt himself coming to his climax, and he wanted you to join. he rubbed your clit in fast circles, leaving wet kisses down your neck. "cum with me? please fuckin' cum with me, baby..~" he muttered, coming undone. the begging and praise took a hold of you, you felt your legs shake as chris filled you up. you came just a moment after him, crying out obscenities as you felt every sensation at once.

#this is not rushed i just don't know how to properly end a story 😞 #i ❤ rory culkin #rory culkin #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin smut #chris kenton #twelve 2010 #asks #request

[thejournallo]

Masterlist Methods

I made this master list so you all can see what methods I talked about already and the connection between them.

I want it, i got it:

Manifestation Method Masterlist

And i oOp- New Reality:

Shifting Methods Masterlist

Witchcraft Basics and Giggles:

Witchcraft Basics Masterlist!

The True Hacks:

the 12 laws of the universe

lucid dreaming vs shifting

neville lancelot goddard: who is?

affirmations for the mouth

10/10/10 worksheets

angel number

Stop dualism

Law of assumption VS Law of attraction

Don't use the law of assumption against you.

Life Hack: the 333 method

Affirmations:

Desired job

Shifting

All eyes on me.

Good grades

love life

natural beauty

Flirt Master

a good february

Everyday is a good day!

#journal #manifestation #manifestation method #manifesting #shifting methods #loa methods #manifesation #spiritual development #explain the method #masterlist #reality shift #reality shifting #shift #shifters #shiftblr #manifest your dreams #law of manifestation #manifest #manifestation list #shifting stories #shifting #shifting realities #desired reality #shiftinconsciousness #the movie method #manifestation theory #lucid dreaming #the twelve laws #laws of attraction #spirituality

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Yo, does anyone else remember that one Goosebumps book where a girl gets a new neighbor and she thinks he's a ghost but it turns out SHE was the ghost the whole time and she and her whole family died in a fire years ago and then the guy she thought was a ghost gets caught in a fire and the girl uses her ghost powers to save him and then she crosses over and her final thoughts in this world are hoping the guy is okay and then you just sit there staring at the book because you thought you were getting some harmless spooks and instead got a story that made you question your mortality and the transient nature of life when you were twelve?

Cause that shit got me fucked up.

#incorrect super smash bros #not a quote #not smash bros #Goosebumps #RL Stine #books #literature #stories #story #writing #nostalgia #existential crisis #I was twelve man

[autixel]

Made this venn diagram of the ships I think about most often and realized some trends. Spoilers for tged and orv. Yes one of these ships is not like the others I'm well aware

#this message was brought to you by autixel #I SPENT 49 MINUTES ON THIS SHITPOST WHY DID I DO THIS #jinjae #llojavi #joongdok #wizardbaron #tged spoilers #orv spoilers #ah yes let's see we got korean novel... korean novel... korean novel and ig sequel... AMERICAN BOOK SERIES 🦅🦅 #seventeen goddamned books and only two pieces of accurate characterization. release me. #one scene. AND ONE SHORT STORY IN ANOTHER SEPARATE BOOK. #Marcone. dear sweet Marcone. please be in Twelve Months. i fear I'm just now knowing you as a character. #for the other three it's like their authors got hands on gay concentrate and dumped 3 metric tons of the stuff into their respective stories

[danseuse-de-ballet]

Eleven x Twelve x Clara + Fifteen ways to stay alive by Daphne Gottlieb

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

#doctor who #twelfth doctor #clara oswald #eleventh doctor #twelve x clara #eleven x clara #whouffaldi #whouffle #otp: this isn’t a ghost story #otp: it’s a love story #otp: the control freak and the man who could never be controlled #web weaving

[grammatically-incoherent]

choose your percabeth

things twelve-year-old kids should do: be twelve things twelve-year-old kids should not do: eye fuck each other.

#pjoedit #useraurore #pjo #userbecca #usermichi #fun story... i convinced my boyfriend that the chemistry between logan lerman and alexandra daddario was truly phenomenal #to which he said #THEY'RE TWELVE THAT IS DISGUSTING #then he made me turn it off. #percy jackson #percy jackson the series #walker scobell #leah sava jeffries #logan lerman #alexandra daddario #now i can delete the movie

[i-really-like-phrogs]

I found ‘Trial By Ghost’ online, one of the BJ Specter Books. The illustrations are so energetic and charming! I love them

You can read the rest of the book here

#The story itself dragged a little bit… but it was super cute! #Lots of Lydia acting like a twelve year old girl- which is always a win in my book! #beetlejuice cartoon #beetlejuice #lydia deetz #toonjuice #BJ Specter #Beetlejuice #Cartoon Archive