#[ woooow this got long winded- oh well. Enjoy! ]

[quartzcraft-mc]

A Tale of Foxblossom

[Word Count - 1637]

For our Pride Month Competition, we hosted a few compeitions including an Writing Competition! Thunderbird25 was voted for 1st place with their amazing piece called ‘A Tale of Foxblossom’. Thunder wrote a lovely story including some of the other player’s OC’s within the story as well as their own, depicting a normal day on the server!

VVV Read Below!!! VVV

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She stared at the map in her hands. Then squinted. Pressing her face to the worn paper, she mentally calculated how far it was from here, in Foxblossom, to the railway line west of her current spot.

It was maybe a thousand blocks? But the ground wasn't totally flat- she'd walked the distance and left her both winded and wet, having crossed through a swamp and back- If she went as the crow flies- no, should she? That would mean digging a tunnel, and who knew how long that would take.

This was making her brain hurt, but that might have been the eye strain.

With a deep sigh, she picked up her diamond shovel. Fully enchanted - of course, it was her – but it had several thin cracks running through the wood handle and extended underneath the blade. She should make a new one; this would break soon. Future her problem!

She had a plan. She would mark out a road five blocks wide and dig in a straight line until she met the railway.

This was going to take forever.

Thunder wasn’t entirely sure why she'd decided to dig a road about a thousand blocks long, only that she'd woken up one day and had had nothing to do. She… didn't like to stay still. Better to be productive, to do things with her mind and hands. It kept her occupied, kept her from fretting, from worrying. Of course, it helped to have a schedule.

Not that she didn’t have lots to do- she had her shop at the mall to stock, resources to gather, the Lorebary to manage –

But she was just so tired. Her sleep had been abysmal recently, filled with nightmares and strange images. Sometimes it was of her home, going up in flames. Other times, it was of the End, looking into a memory of the people there- those dreams, she suspected, may actually be real. On the other hand, maybe it was her magic reacting to the magic in her elytra. But, of course, who knew if it was real or not? Regardless, she was feeling a bit crummy and needed to just go. Do something mindnumbing and repetitive. It had helped when she first went to the swamp. Maybe it would help now? Tire herself out enough that she could actually sleep for once?

The logistics were a little tricky- but she figured she could dig a small initial tunnel then widen it later. Getting up at the crack of dawn was a bit of a struggle – it was bloody freezing, her breath misting and turning to ice as she breathed. She could see Annika at her farm, taking her animals out to graze – the small figure whistled and gave a brief wave as she turned back to her cows. Thunder smiled, giving a wave back before she trudged towards the town centre.

Her boots crunched on the dirt and gravel path, loud and intrusive in the early morning. It felt like she was disturbing the stillness that hung in the air, like she was the only one here, awake. There was no breeze – thankfully since the temperature was certainly cold enough! The land was asleep. She wasn't entirely sure why she'd chosen to come to such a cold place – it was a far cry from her homeland and the Nether, places made of fire, of heat, of never-ending summers. Winters were considered a distant dream, a fantasy in the relentless land of sweat and discomfort and danger. She still remembered her first bushfire – on the outskirts of her city, the smoke staining the sky black with ash falling from the sky like snow. It was terrifying, the thousand block fire-front creeping ever closer; would they lose their homes like the other towns? It had lasted a good week, with casualties and refugees streaming in from the surrounding cities; lives had been spared, homes lost.

It was a stray storm, traveling south from the battered northern regions, that turned the tide.

Smoke had hung in the air for weeks afterward; it was in her hair, her clothes. Soon, it was considered odd to not smell smoke; fires were commonplace. But here? The cold felt like it gripped the land in a lover's embrace, a different kind of danger. One that she wasn't used to.

She had reached the edge of the town center, her mind running away from her. Focus, now. Yes, her self-appointed task. She tended to use whatever supplies she had on hand - birch and oak planks, gathered by herself, with extra bought from the mall. She figured she’d work as she went, but this would take a while. The road would start next to the town map and visitor’s log- cutting directly west, through the birch and oak forest, the swamp, and the spruce forest.

Shoveling out the dirt was easy, under the effects of the nearby beacon and her enchanted shovel. She just needed to shore up the sides as she went- cobble worked well enough, and enough was lying around. The stone was tricker- her enchanted pickaxe still made short work of the stone, carving deep gashes in the earth before being scraped away- but it was backbreaking work, and she quickly tired. Falling into a routine was easy- it was similar to carving out her swamp base, both relaxing and mind-numbing at the same time.

She'd dug out the first stretch of the tunnel, taking a few days. It was maybe a third of the way. She'd just finished putting up the torches - she'd dealt with enough mobs with her recent adventures, she just wanted a break!- when footsteps echoed down the rough tunnel. A soft purple gleam in the darkness caught her eye when she turned, and the footsteps got closer-

“Thunder! Wow, this is a long tunnel. How long have you been building it for?" Marina's cheerful voice echoed off the tunnel walls, bouncing and amplifying. She grinned, wearing enchanted netherite and carrying a complete set of enchanted netherite tools - Thunder's own tools were looking a tad shabby at the moment.

Thunder paused, standing up to stretch and rest her arms for the moment. They hurt, aching fiercely, with nicks and scratches from where she'd been hit by flying debris and her own occasional clumsiness. Then, scratching the back of her head, she shrugged with a smile. "What day is it?"

“Sunday.”

"Day three, then." The other woman blinked. “Woooow, that’s a while. Are you going to the railway?”

"Yeah, I figured it might be handy to have a railway connecting Foxblossom to the track. Didn't think it would take this long though," Thunder laughed, sheepish. She shrugged. "I still need to put down a proper path, though. I was planning on using oak wood and birch."

“Oh, okay! Would you like some help, nya?” Marina tilted her head to the side, swirling her pickaxe.

Thunder blinked. She was offering to help dig the rest of the way? It was still over five hundred blocks. “I… wouldn’t say no?”

"Nya, of course, dear! What do you need me to do?"

She was too kind. Showing Marina, the tunnel's dimensions was easy. Then the woman set off, digging with a single-minded focus that was honestly impressive. Thunder had finished placing the wood path down for the first section, and turning back to the next chunk of the track, she found-

A massive tunnel, carved through the nearby hill, sunlight filtering through to the other side of the tunnel. It glinted off the swamp water and Marina's armour, catching her eye. The other woman was already constructing a path across the water out of stone and brick. It looked strong enough to support a rudimentary path and would work well enough. There was idle chatter as they worked to build the bridge across, the sun making its slow march across the sky. Thunder only noticed when she stood up to stretch and wipe her forehead on her sleeve. It was hard work, and her armour was being safely stored within her inventory. A vast array of colours were splashed across the sky, the sun painting the clouds a mix of orange, pink and purple hues.

It was- it was beautiful. The light filtered through the spindly leaves of the spruce trees, casting soft, growing shadows across the ground, dancing in the water near them. Clouds were painted varying shades of pink, ringed by bright, golden light. Water lapped softly against the edge of the bridge, the wind slowly picking up. Thunder placed her pickaxe on the wood next to her, swinging her legs over the side. The water was cold, almost shockingly so against her bare feet, and the night was slowly encroaching on them. She could just hear the call of a phantom starting to prowl the sky and the low, baritone moan of a zombie. The gurgle of a drowned and the skittering of a nearby spider. Danger, reasons to go home.

Marina plonked down next to her, giving her a smile, turning to watch the sunset. Fierce, burning happiness sparked through her, from her freezing toes to her stomach, to her heart and head. Things might be a bit messy and may not be okay, but she was so fucking glad to be here. To be tired after a long day's work, with a friend next to her, enjoying one of the best sunsets she'd seen in a long time. Once the sun had set, the sky a deep, indigo purple, she'd stood up, offering Marina a hand. They'd made their way back to town, parting ways with a soft goodbye. It seemed… wrong, almost, to disturb this strange feeling of peace.

It would take a few days of work to finish the road. But she slept easier that night.

[just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms]

I’ll Always Need You

Title: I’ll Always Need You

Characters: Dean, Reader, and a few OFC’s to add to the story

Word Count: 4,800 <-- This was not planned!!!

Warning: This gets a little nerve wracking, but it’s very similar to a Supernatural episode or a Criminal Minds episode

A/N: This started as a “fun little road trip” and then got very, almost Criminal Minds. I personally really like it, so I hope you enjoy it!! Send feedback please!!!

“Come on! Wake up!” You shoved Dean’s shoulder, trying to get him out of his beer coma. “Come...on!” Giving him one good shove, he “accidentally” rolled off the other side of the bed.

“Wha-Y.N! Damnit! No shoving before noon!”

“It’s 2pm dude, shut up and let’s go.”

Grabbing your things you left the motel room and tossed your bags in Baby’s back seat. Looking around, you opened the door and slid smoothly into Baby’s drivers seat.

Running your hands over her steering wheel you got butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t even count how many times you’d been in this car, desperate to know what she feels like. Your hands caressed her dash before they found the seat beneath you. Everything was just so...perfect.

“Hey! Dip shit!” And the moment was gone. “Move over! You know better.”

Grumbling under your breath you slid to the side as Dean found his spot. You looked out the window so you didn’t have to see Dean’s look of disbelief that you were actually ballsy enough to sit in his spot.

Baby revved to life, and you two were back on the road.

The view from Kansas to South Dakota is mind-numbingly boring. You messed with your hair, picked your nails, tried to read the same five magazines for the billionth time, and tried to find every possible position to sit in.

At one point you were curled up in Baby’s seat with your head on your sweatshirt.

“Hey,” Dean nudged you. “Go sleep in the back.”

“No.”

“Go!”

You sat up a bit. “No!”

Deans arm reached up and over you and attacked your most ticklish spot. You started writhing and screaming as you tried to get away. You ended up rolling onto the floor board to get away from him. You looked up at Dean’s cocky grin. “That was for the wake up call this morning.”

Four hours into the drive, Dean pulled off to a gas station. You went in and grabbed the standard snacks and drinks for the two of you. Dean filled Baby up. This routine was so identical to all the other ones your brain hurt.

“Come on, let’s do something fun!”

“Like what?” Dean slid into Baby and slammed her door in an effort to end the conversation.

“Bobby isn’t expecting us at a certain time. Let’s just...do something other than keep driving. I’m so bored!”

Dean gave you a blank look, revved Baby back to life, and took off. Your grumbles of protest were completely ignored.

When you got to a stretch of fields with some dense groups of trees, you made Dean pull over and get out.

“Come on! Let’s explore!”

“You are not Dora, and we are not exploring!”

Before Dean could get back into Baby, you dove across the front seat and grabbed her keys. Dean barely processed it before you were hightailing it into the trees.

“Oh come on!”

“Gotta catch me!” You screamed as you darted between the trees. You could hear Dean crunching behind you, and your smile just got bigger. You spotted what looked like an old treehouse and tried to climb part of the tree.

Just as you got decent footing, Dean ripped you back from the trees. The two of you fell back and hit the ground hard. The wind got knocked out of both of you, but as soon as you got yourself together you fell back laughing.

Dean was panting a little. “Why...do you…have to be so fucking annoying.”

“Because you’re funny when you’re pissed off.” You grinned. “Oh relax old man.”

Dean pulled you off the ground, and you both looked around you. There were lots of broken trees, some stumps ripped up from the ground, and the treehouse was more a rundown platform of wood than anything else. Parts of it were scattered around the base of the tree.

“Want to build a treehouse?”

“No. I want to drive.”

“Woooow, someone really has a hornets nest in their pants today!” A dull orange caught your eye and you took a few steps towards it.

“Dean! It’s an old shack or something. Let’s go!” You took off towards it, as Dean took off away from it. “Oh come on!”

“Rundown shack in the middle of some trees in the middle of nowhere. You’re a dumbass hunter if you think that’s a good idea.”

“Nah, just adventurous. Come on!”

Dean slowly walked over to you. “This is only so you don’t die. Bobby knows your with me. Otherwise I’d leave you here.”

The two of you tried to see if there was more to the shack than just the two outer walls you could see. The roof looked like it was caved in, and there was window frame just to the side of the house. The shack wasn’t very large.

The two of you came around the side of the house, and found that everything in the house was destroyed. The roof had caved in and the two back walls were destroyed. There was what looked like a chair, and maybe a stove visible.

Dean tapped your shoulder. “I think that’s a bed, maybe?”

“I think so. Look a this,” you pointed to your left. “This kind of looks like a table.”

Each of you gave the house a good look and headed back towards the road. At least you guys were pretty sure it was the road.

Finally reaching an edge of the tree line, you realized that you were not on the side Baby was on. Both of you looked down the tree line, stepping into the cornfield, trying to figure out if there was any sign of a curve in the trees or an open spot to figure out where you were.

You felt a sharp pain and then a burn in the back of your neck. Dean felt the same.

There was a trail through the cornfield made by your bodies being dragged deeper into the field.

Several hours later, you started to wake up. Your arms were incredibly sore, and tied above your head. You let out a long groan as the pain in your body started to hit you. Everything was dark and you realized it was your blindfold.

“Y/N?” Dean whispered. “Y/N, is that you?”

“Dean? Yeah, yeah it’s me. Do you-”

“No. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Dean…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“I know, Y/N. I know.”

For hours the two of you laid there. You kept sweeping your legs, that were bound together, back a forth, trying to feel for something around you. Dean kept trying to figure out a way to escape his wrist restraints.Both of you listened for anything that might tell you where you were or let you know if anyone was coming for you.

When huge stomps of what sounded like boots started coming towards you, both of you froze. There was a disgusting stench that neither of you could describe coming from whatever was standing over you.

What felt like a rough, calloused hand, grabbed your jaw, opened it, and forced oatmeal into your mouth. You were given 5 spoonfuls, and then the boots started to move away from you. When he came to Dean, and grabbed his jaw, Dean spit at him. The creature was still for a moment, and then fed Dean the 5 spoonfuls of oatmeal.

When the boots started to move away, both of you waited until you couldn’t hear them. A door was never opened or shut. It sounded like whatever it was could walk in and out easily.

When you heard Dean start to cough, you panicked. “Dean! Dean!”

After a few more coughs, his throat was clear. “I’m okay,” he whispered. “Keep your voice down. I’m sure it can hear us.”

“Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Does your mouth taste like brown sugar?”

Dean was silent for a moment. “Yeah. It tastes like oatmeal with the brown sugar. What the fuck? Is this some sort of mind game?”

“I….I don’t know. Did I hear you spit at him?”

“Yeah. Whatever it was didn’t care. It fed me almost like you feed a kid.”

“Same here.”

You both laid there silent, trying to think your way through this.

You had found a rundown treehouse. Then the broken shack. Now you were being fed oatmeal.

It was all something a kid would like, but how did that tie in with the kidnapping?

“Dean, are you getting the kid connection?”

“Yeah, but I have no idea what it means.”

The loud voice made you scream. “I want friends.”

“What?” Dean shot back.

“I....I’m alone...I don’t have anyone.”

“Well, dumbass, kidnapping people doesn’t fucking help with that!”

“Dean!” you hissed. “Stop!”

Before Dean could say anything back, whatever it was started crying.

As the noise faded as it walked away, you hissed at Dean. “Stop trying to piss it off!”

Dean was struggling harder against his restraints. “I just want this fucker to tell us what’s going on and let us out of here!”

“Well, let’s be his friend.”

“What?!”

“He said that’s what he wants! If we give it to him he might let us leave.”

Dean kept working at getting his hands free while you tried to come up with some sort of plan. You couldn’t see whatever it was to maybe gauge what they are looking for in a friend. But considering it kidnapped both of you, you had a feeling that anything that could become a friend would work.

The boots started to stomp and you both froze. Dean’s body went limp, and yours did too. You both silently thought that if you looked less threatening, then maybe there was a chance.

Again, there were no words or sounds that came from their capture. He came to you first, lifted your head from the ground, and gave you cold water, letting you drink as much as you could handle. He never forced you to drink.

When he laid your head gently back on the floor, he moved to the Dean. He was much better behaved this time and let his head be lifted to drink.

The boots stopped between the two of you. You could somehow feel you were being watched.

Once again the boots walked away. The silence was extremely uncomfortable.

You were the first to speak. “He’s keeping us alive.”

“I just...this is so fucked up. I just don’t understand this. There’s no logic.”

Before you could respond, the boots were coming close again. Your bodies went limp. The air was tense as you each waited for what was going to happen next.

The moment you had dreaded had come. He removed your blindfolds.

If you could see your captor, there’s a good chance they have no intention of letting you leave if you know what they look like.

A short, stocky man that was about 5’5”, extremely overweight, and looked as if he hadn’t showered in years stood over you.

“I-I’m, um, Ed. Eddy if you want.”

Dean gave you a concerned look, but you ignored it. “Hi, Ed. I’m Y/N, and this is Dean. We heard that you might like friends?”

Ed nodded and looked at the ground. “I...She didn’t allow it.”

“Who didn’t?”

“The...She’s...I can’t say.”

“Well,” Dean joined in. “We can help you with her. Just tell us how. We can help you, and you can help us by letting us go.”

Ed’s eyes flew to Dean. “But I can’t! She won’t let me! If I lose more friends, then She will be angry!”

“Lose more friends?” You shot a terrified look at Dean. “What do you mean you ‘lose’ friends?”

“She...if She doesn’t like them, if they don’t play, they...the room of fire.”

Dean tried to jump up. “What room of fire? Ed, where are we?”

“In my new playhouse!” Ed beamed. “I dug it myself! It goes under the old field I used to play in, and I got it to go into the bottom of the house! She said it was easier this way!!”

“Ed,” you leaned in. “How do you know this woman?”

“She found me. I was a baby. She saw me, thought I was a good little boy, and took me home.”

“Ed...did She take you from another woman?”

“Yes.” He paused before throwing his hands out. “But she was mean! That other lady hurt me! She saved me!”

Dean gave you a long look. It was a mix of “this poor guy,” “we need to get out of here,” and “this is really bad.”

“Hey, Ed,” Dean got his attention. “Does She hurt you too?” He shook his head. “Does She make you take new friends?” This time he nodded.

“She said that my new friends were important so She could have her new friends.”

“Ed,” he turned to you. “Why don’t you go back, She might worry about you. We want to sleep if that’s okay?”

Ed gave you a smile and nodded. He grabbed two blankets from a cabinet and put them over each of you.

“Goodnight Dean. Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Ed.”

The two of you were trapped in your minds trying to make sense of everything that had been said tonight.

“Y/N...do you think that She might be…”

“Yes,” you finished his thought. “He’s finding people for her to probably torture and kill.”

“The fire room?”

“I don’t know about that one yet. Maybe we can find out more from Ed tomorrow.”

Dean was silent for a few minutes. “The blankets were nice.”

“Yes they were.”

Neither of you could look at the other. You would have thought that since you had the blindfolds removed you would be trying to communicate face to face.

But, if you actually looked at each other, it made it real. Neither of you could deal with that right now.

“Yay! Y/N! Dean!” The words echoed through the tunnel and woke both of you up.

“Guess what! Guess what!”

“What Ed?” You tried to be excited.

“She still has friends! So we can be friends longer!”

Both of you visibly relaxed and finally looked at each other. There was still hope that you could get out of there.

“Who are her friends?” Dean really didn’t want to know the answer to that.

“Um,” Ed looked at the ground. “A mean man. He hurt me.”

Ed lifted part of what looked like a pant leg, and showed a scar with lots of dots around it.”

“Ed,” his eyes found yours. “Was he a hunter? Did he have any bright orange or camouflage on?” He nodded slowly. “She got mad I didn’t have anyone new. He tried to kill a deer that by my old

house!”

Dean looked from you, to Ed. “Your old house? Did you not live with Her for a while?”

Ed shook his head again. “She didn’t like me when I was little. I didn’t play with her friends, and they didn’t want to play with me. So I lived there!” He beamed. “It was fun!”

You had to admit. It broke your heart a little. You knew deep down that this poor guy had been thrown into a horrible world.

“Hey, Ed? Do you make people sleep so they aren’t hurt when you take them to Her?”

Dean’s eyes went a little wide before they fell to the ground. “Would you like to not have to bring people here? You know she hurts them.”

Ed started to shift his weight. He clearly was torn. He definitely had a big heart. You had no doubt that he treated all of his “guests” the same way he had treated both of you. He knew it was bad what She did, but she also “raised” him.

“I don’t want to hurt people. But I don’t want to leave her. She would be so mad. She might hurt people on her own again.”

You nodded and looked to Dean before turning back to Ed.

“Can you get us something to eat maybe, Ed?”

Ed nodded his head and smiled before taking off down the tunnel to get them food.

“Y/N, we have to get him to at least let us go.”

“But he needs to come too.”

“What? No. You and me. That’s it. He’s done enough bad that he deserves to stay.”

“Dean…”

“Y/N. No.”

Dean turned as much as he could away from you. You could understand Dean’s point. But you had developed a soft spot for Ed. Maybe if you took him with, he could go to the police. Tell them where She is, what She’s done. Sure, he would go to jail, but at least he wouldn’t be trapped with Her anymore.

Before you could share your thoughts with Dean, Ed was back. He had two plates with what looked like sandwiches. “Okay, now I have to tie you up again.”

Ed came over, and grabbed two medium length ropes from the corners. He grabbed your feet, and tied them to the new ropes. You let him re-bind your hands as he moved them in front of you. Dean wasn’t quite as cooperative at first, but you shot daggers at him to behave.

Ed handed you each a plate with a peanut butter sandwich on it.

“Eat and when I come back I’ll bring water.”

“Thank you, Ed.”

“Thanks.”

The two of you ate in silence.

Ed had “tucked” you both in and left you for the night.

“Dean, I just think we sho-”

“No.” Dean’s voice echoed loudly. “You. And. Me. That’s it. I need you. You need me. And we need to get out of here.”

“I just…”

“What!”

“Dean! Listen! He has been forced into this. We could save him and get Her arrested. He comes with us. We call the cops. She gets arrested. Her new “friend” might live. And we make sure he goes to jail. He will still be punished. Come on, Dean.”

It was a very uncomfortable silence as you fell asleep. Knowing Ed was not currently showing signs of harming you, you were able to sleep the past couple nights.

Dean woke you up and scared you half to death. He was standing over you, grabbing your wrists to unbind you.

“Shut up! Y/N, come on!”

“How did yo-”

“Not important. We have to find something for light, or something. We have to move.”

As the two of you looked around the area, you weren’t able to hear Ed coming down the tunnel. He had heard your scream, and was actually coming to see if you were okay. When he turned the corner and saw you both free and moving around, he froze.

“No!” His voice bellowed through the tunnel. Each of you froze, and couldn’t look towards Ed.

“You…” he started to get choked up. “You...I thought…”

Slowly you started to turn around. “Ed...Ed please. Let me talk to you for a minute. Please.”

When he didn’t stop you, you got a nod from Dean and went on.

“Ed, we want you to come with us. Before you say no, let me talk.” You felt a little bold, and took a step forward. “We want you to come with us, and help us to stop Her. We are going to tell the police. She can’t hurt people like that. You will have to go to jail.”

“You will have to go to jail,” Dean jumped in. “Because you helped her. But, if you tell them the truth about everything, She will go to prison. She has done so many bad things, to good people, and we need your help to stop Her.”

You beamed a grateful smile to Dean, before turning back to Ed.

“Please. Come with us.”

Ed took a deep breath, and stood a little straighter. “No.”

“Please.” You almost started to cry. If this didn’t work, you didn’t even want to imagine what would happen.

“Not right now. Let me get Her friend.” “The hunter?” Both of you were confused.

“She made him hurt way more than he hurt me. Let me get him. Then we go.”

For roughly 20 agonizing minutes, the two of you sat there. Nothing in the area around you could be used as a weapon unfortunately. But each of you hoped he wouldn’t physically harm either of you.

The large stomps of Ed’s boots came closer and closer. Suddenly they stopped, there was a thud, and then silence. The noise of his boots ran away from you.

Aman’s voice called out. “Y/N? Dean?”

Dean pushed you behind him. “Who are you?”

“Miles. I’m the hunter.”

“The wha-” Dean stopped as he saw the man drag himself across the floor, coming towards you.

One of his legs was cut off in the middle of his calf. A blood soaked bandage trailed behind him. There were scars on his neck and face. His back looked like he’d been whipped several times.

“Here, here let us help you up.”

You took one side, and Dean took the other as you lifted the man onto one of the boxes so he could sit.

“How did Ed get you out?”

“She fell asleep for a while. He came into the basement where I was through a tunnel, untied me, and carried me here.”

“Why did he go back?” Dean checked around the corner into the tunnel as you looked over Miles’s wounds.

“No idea. He just dropped me and turned back.” He looked between you. “You guys have any idea how to get out of here?”

Both of you shook your heads. “We were waiting for his help,” you nodded your head towards the tunnel.

“Y/N, stay here with Miles. I’m going to check out this other side to the tunnel.”

“What?! You’re not going alone.”

“Miles needs someone to stay with him. I promise I will only take 30 foot steps out. Deal?”

You didn’t like it, but you nodded. “Then I’m going to watch the other side while I stay with Miles.”

Dean gave you a long look, and then started pacing his way out. You checked that Miles was sitting comfortably, and peered around the corner.

“So, how long have you two been married?”

“Married?” You started to laugh. “Yeah, no way that’s happening. We’re really good friends though. Probably why we always look like a married couple fighting.”

“Y/N,” Dean yelled. “I think I got it. There’s a slope I can only sort of see that looks like it runs up.”

“Come back and we can make a plan.”

Dean returned just as a thundering noise came towards you.

“Run!” It was Ed. “Go! Now!”

Before you and Dean could grab Miles, Ed was there. He crashed his way between you, scooped up Miles, and the three of you bolted for the slope.

Halfway up, Ed turned around. “She’s coming.”

“What?” You panted. How can you tell?”

“I can smell her.”

Each of you exchanged looks before taking a deep breath in.

Fire.

It was filling the tunnel. The flames were only just starting to fill the tunnel as the four of you got to the top of the slope. There was a huge metal latch that held the trap door down. Ed handed Miles to you and Dean, while he pushed up the door.

He set Miles on the ground as he helped each of you up and out into the cornfield. He handed Miles up to each of you.

“Come on!” You reached your hand down to Ed. Let’s go!” You could see the light from the flames getting stronger, and closer.

“Come on man!” Dean yelled. “Get out of there!”

Ed stared into the flames. Something about his demeanor changed. His jaw tightened, and he looked back to the three of you.

“Goodbye, friends.”

Before anyone could move, Ed slammed the door shut above him. The sound of the large old latch shut.

You dropped to your knees, pounding on the door. “Ed! No! Please! Stop! Open the door!”

“Ed!” Dean dropped down next to you. Miles pulled himself so he could hit the door too.

The three of you yelled as loud as you could. The smoke started to float through the wooden trap door, and despite it making all of you cough, you never stopped yelling.

Dean finally stopped you both when the door became too hot to touch.

“Dean!” You fought against him. “Stop! We need to help him! Please!”

You started to bawl and fight to get out of his grip.

Miles pulled himself from the door, and laid on his back, crying.

“We have to do!” Dean yelled at both of you. “We have to. This whole field is going to go up in flames.”

“But-”

“Y/N.” Dean locked eyes with you, and you immediately started to settle down.

“Let’s go.” You wiped the tears from your eyes so you could help carry Miles.

It felt like hours before you were able to navigate the woods, and get back to Baby. The cracking of the forest trees meant the fire was reaching them. Looking up at the sky, there was nothing but billowing smoke.

Dean tossed you the keys, and you grabbed a spare blanket from the trunk. He let Miles down gently and you got him comfortable.

Dean called 911 as you walked down the road a little ways. The entire field was on fire.

“That bitch,” you muttered before yelling to Dean. “She burned the fucking place down!”

“Fire department already knows. They got to the house about a minute or so ago. It doesn’t look good.”

The three of you looked at each other, contemplating if it was worth going back. She was dead, and so was Ed. But when you both looked down at Miles, you knew you had to go.

Everyone was confused, and shocked, at the three of you arriving, saying you knew the owner.

The police and fire chiefs both spoke to you. Officers were sent to standby while the fire was controlled. The area was officially a crime scene.

Miles was seen by the paramedics. It looked like Ed had tried to sew his limb back together, and it held out for longer than expected. When Miles was loaded into the ambulance, Dean got permission for the two of you to follow them to the hospital.

It was several hours before Miles was out of surgery, and each of you had finished giving your statements for the moment. You had both made the point to explain Ed’s situation.

Once Miles was awake, he backed up all of their stories.

It turned out that the woman had a crematorium in her home. The cornfield had been planted to grow over what had been a cemetary. Her family had owned a funeral home for over 50 years. They had gone out of business roughly 10 years before She had become the owner of the estate.

It was later discovered that She had lived in the next state for roughly 15 years. After looking into that residence, and then examining her current residence, the numbers were staggering.

In total, roughly 22 people’s remains were found between the two residences.  This discovery was able to close at least 7 cold cases.

To this day, Dean, Miles, and yourself would get together for a drink every year. Another pint would be ordered in memory of Ed.

A lot of conversations were had between Dean and yourself. There were bad dreams. Flashbacks. Milestones that you wanted to share together because of all you had been through.

Since then, you were a “travel hunter.” Whenever a hunter needed an extra hand, you went to help. You didn’t necessarily find cases on your own.

You’d met Sam, and became good friends with him. On occasion you would hunt with the boys.

Around 5 years later, you got a call from Dean.

“Hey,” you smiled into the phone. “How are you?”

“Not bad, not bad at all.”

There was a long pause. You weren’t really sure what to say since Dean was the one that called.

“I…” Dean paused. “I had another one.”

“Dream? Me too. A few days ago actually.”

“You still need me?”

You smiled and started nodding your head. “I need you.”

“I’ll need you too.”

There was a pause, and Dean laughed softly.

“Want to go on an adventure?”

You let out a loud laugh. “Dean, you’re not Dora. We are not going exploring. Sound familiar?”

“Yep. It was a hell of an adventure though.”

“Damn straight.” You laughed. “Damn straight.”

“Well,” Dean cleared his throat. “I’ll let you go I guess.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll always need you.”

“I’ll always need you too.”

PLEASE SEND FEEDBACK!!!

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[wellhalesbells]

help I just finished the raven cycle. now what??

i mean, firstly, mourn.  i cannot stress the importance of this step enough.  take the time to sob and rage and fall apart about the fact that you have finished this series that is just head and shoulders above nearly every other.  because that did happen and it does blow.  i suggest a lot of laying on the floor or under your bed, eating tacos, and being generally despondent.  also if you feel the need to wear black for a year or keep your curtains drawn 24/7, well, that’s totally acceptable.

once that’s done, we’re ready to reenter the literary world!  probably, and ish.  to help ease the transition, i would suggest trying to pinpoint what you most loved from that series and then working from there.  was it the fantasy elements, the characters, the lgbt-ness, the young adult-ness or just the straight-up pretty writing?  here are a few things that might help fill the void (though do recognize that none will be perfect and, factually, your life is just emptier now):

FANTASY 

[admittedly, i do not have a lot of fantasy on my shelves because i need long breaks between for that genre, but here are a few of my more recent reads]

the scorpio races - going from maggie to maggie is never a bad idea.  i will concede that it took me way longer to get into this one than it did the raven cycle, but i did eventually get there and the characters were heaps more established (and rational) than what’s usually on offer in a YA read!

the grisha trilogy - okay, so i really got into this because it has such a well-drawn villain.  meaning: he’s fucking gray, like all good villains should be.  you can sympathize with him and i was surprised to find that i cared what happened to him, not just to our hero.  the story and characters were also really great.  and if you want to jump off this trilogy into the six of crows duology (LGBT+), my only advice would be: don’t let your expectations get too high.  unfortunately, i went in expecting it to be the raven cycle’s equivalent and, for me, it did not have that same depth.  good, for sure, but on trc’s level?  not so much, in my opinion, and i wish i’d known not to expect that going in because i feel like i would’ve enjoyed it more if i had.

the dream-quest of vellitt boe - lovecraft with laaaaadies.

3-DIMENSIONAL CHARACTERS

mosquitoland - this book can be a little hard at times but, woooow, did i fall in love with mim.  this had just the right amounts of humor and heart for me.

station eleven -considering this jumps timelines and characters, it’s monumentally impressive that you can feel such a connection to and investment in everyone’s stories.

LGBT+

simon vs the homo sapiens agenda - this is cuuuuuuute and i just love everyone and want the absolute best for them because they so deserve it and it shook out just how i wanted it to.

a place called winter - this is another one that’s hard, but worth it, i think.  it’s a sweeping story, spanning decades and continents and hammering in the historical hardships that came from being any letter on the lgbt+ spectrum during the pioneer era.

the watchmaker of filigree street - historical fiction, in general, is pretty much a turn-off for me because it’s dense and overly drawn a lot of the time (i get it, it’s the 1800s, can we shut up about the details every three seconds please, UGH).  but if there were ever a book that was going to turn me completely around on that, it would be this one because WOW, YES.

flying lessons and other stories - a slew of sexually and racially diverse stories from some truly brilliant authors!

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe - ohhhhh it’s pretty.  and soft.  and full of love and fear and understanding.  it hurts my heart with how tender it is.  [weeps]

idyll threats - you know how there are five million ‘cop/sheriff/detective in a small town’ mystery series that just go on and on forever and never end?  WELL NOW WE HAVE ONE FOR THE LBGT COMMUNITY.  the second book just came out last month and i want everyone to support these if you can; i want there to be so many i can’t count the number on my fingers and toes anymore, i want thomas lynch to be a friggin’ household name, i want a terrible movie franchise and an awkwardly posed poster on my wall, okay?  I WANT THIS TO BE A THING PLEASE.

YOUNG ADULT

the illuminae files - these books are dope.  they’re engaging not only story-wise but also visually, the text forms images, the fire fights are chaotic smashings of words, the space walks are delicate tight-ropes of sentences and then, on top of that, the characters and the twists and turns of the story?  oh my BUH-GOD.  this series is breath-takingly good and so freaking smart, okay?  it just is.  IT IS.

i’ll meet you there - i liked every single detail of this book and they’re all… still there.  i read this quite a bit ago and i remember so much of it.  i don’t remember what i had for lunch an hour ago but i remember this book.  so.  that’s pretty cool.

the merciless - all right, all right, all right, i have to qualify this.  because i was not a fan of the ending.  maybe you will be, i don’t know, i - personally - was not.  BUT everything leading up to that ending?  yeah huh!  it was some good-ass suspense.  as of right now, i’ve only read the first book of this series but… i think i am going to keep going with it.  it’s hard to get me to squirm but this book managed it and i think i have to chase that, right?

WRITING

the secret history (LGBT+ minor character) - i said i would never recommend this book to people (it is long.  and dense.  and depressing) but, lookit, that turned out to be a fucking lie.  it feels historical even though it’s contemporary and it is such a complete story?  i mean, i know this story, i know these characters, i was thrust into those pages.  and i loved it.  if you need your characters to be likable though?  NOT the book for you, haha.

autopsy (LGBT+) - i read a fair amount of poetry these days.  i like very little poetry.  this?  this i liked a crap-ton.  donte collins is a friggin’ wordsmith, man.

the princess saves herself in this one - another poetry book i enjoyed!  i really love watching skilled people play with language, what can i say?

we were liars - okay, so, this is another odd one for me to recommend because… i did not like it.  like, at all.  i mean, i did like it a lot, and then the ending came and obliterated any positive thoughts i’d had about it (because i feel like it breaks the contract with the reader and that makes things just… not cool imo, but whatever).  HOWEVER i did find the writing really, really lovely.  it has a gorgeous, soothing flow to it.  and, again, some people may really like the ending and, in that case, this would be a super great book for you because the writing is really simple but nice, y’know?

american housewife - an awesome book of awesome short stories written very awesomely!

i’ll give you the sun (LGBT+) - the writing in this makes me want to fall to my knees with how good it is.  i just can’t.  i could go on and on for days.  it feels like it’s something that should’ve taken centuries to craft because it is so lovingly put together and it just–it makes you feel all the feels, okay.

everything i never told you (LGBT+ minor characters) - i like this book so much more in retrospect.  but it does the adult fiction thing that every fucking adult fiction book does and that made me so mad at the time.  but, beyond that, it’s a unique and well-told story!

things we lost in the fire - my favorite horror book i’ve read in a good long while.  mariana enriquez is a master at building up a creepy atmosphere.  it’s not gore and guts as much as it is a mounting sense of doom that’s entirely constructed through words and imagery that are so damn well-crafted.  really hoping for more english translations of her work because she is just so skilled a writer.

middlesex (LGBT+) - this took me a while to read because it is the very full history of three different generations of stephanides between those covers but, wow, is it well-written.  it’s moving and deep and winding and detailed and fucking worthwhile.

[birdboyofbabylon]

TAGGED BY: @blue-pincushion TAGGING: @cloud-the-bluebird ((Gonna keep it short here since I don’t know most people enough to know if they’d be okay with me tagging them in this kinda stuff yet))

—    BASICS.

▸     IS    YOUR    MUSE    TALL    /    SHORT    /    AVERAGE ? Short. Even by Mobian/Babylonian terms he’s on the short side and relies on his hair/feathers to get the last few inches to be considered on par with the rest of the cast.

▸      ARE    THEY    OKAY    WITH    THEIR    HEIGHT ? For the most part, yes. Jet enjoys taking advantage of his small size for both stealth and agility. He loves outmaneuvering and outwitting larger targets and sees it only as a bonus for riding where his smaller size simply means less weight and less wind resistance.

That being said. There are times he feels intimidated being the shortest member of his team. 

▸      WHAT’S    THEIR    HAIR    LIKE ? A slicked back and spiked mohawk formed of thick clumps of green feathers

▸     DO    THEY    SPEND    A    LOT    OF    TIME    ON    THEIR    HAIR     /    GROOMING ? Absolutely. Jet adores the style, both aesthetically and functionally. He’d first tried the style out when he was still a kid and managed to discover upon a few heavy metal CDs in a fellow Rogue’s quarters. He’d been listening for a while, enamored with how fast and angry and exciting it sounded as he was looking through all the CD manuals and saw a drummer packing a more traditional spiked mohawk with the spikes sticking straight up. So of course he tried the style for himself. Of course, after one ride like this, his feathers were soon slicked back and when he saw it in the mirror, all he could think was “WOOOOW, COOL! THAT LOOKS RAD!” and needless to say, the style stuck. The way it’s spiked back, rebellious and out-of-control, he feels expresses him to a tee, and the fin-like nature of it is aerodynamic enough while providing a fair bit of stability at speeds. 

▸      DOES   YOUR   MUSE   CARE   ABOUT   THEIR   APPEARANCE   /   WHAT    OTHERS    THINK ? AB-SO-LUTE-LY. Sometimes Jet will spend hours in front of a mirror, fine tuning everything about his appearance before any even where he expects cameras to be involved. Most of the effort goes to his hair and the tuft of white feathers on his chest, but he’ll still spend a sizable amount of time making sure every last part of his appearance looks impeccable.

As for what others think? To a degree. Though the hawk lives for praise, he won’t pay too much mind to the jeers and boos of others. Jet can focus on the positive responses he gets far better than most, but if it’s nothing but hate and criticism, then it’ll start to take its toll on his mood...and fairly heavily, for that matter.

That being said, he’s far more sensitive when it comes to those he respects. He sets a high bar for that respect and feels it should be valued greatly, so if someone who falls into that category belittles him, then he’ll take it to heart and have it on mind for days, possibly even weeks at a time.

((PUTTING THE REST BEHIND A READ MORE))

                          \/  \/  \/  \/  \/

—    PREFERENCES.

▸     INDOORS    OR    OUTDOORS ? Outdoors, for sure. Specifically open areas with lots of wind. Being a bird, he needs the feeling of wind flowing through his feathers. Even when he is indoors, he prefers to not be on solid land, opting for the shelter of his airship. If he spends too much time without a nice long ride on his Type-J or returning to his zeppelin, Jet will start to grow antsy, anxious, and jumpy. This usually takes about three or four days to come into effect.

Needless to say, that makes any extended prison stays or other incarceration VERY tough on the hawk. Cramped indoors, no wind and stuffy air, and without the gentle sway of his zeppelin or some other airborne vessel to keep him company? That can be a nasty time.

▸     RAIN    OR    SUNSHINE ? Sunshine. Not to say he doesn’t enjoy the rain from time to time, but only when he doesn’t actually have to be in it. Most of the time it’s a burden. It gets in his feathers and leaves him soaking. It disrupts his flight plans and sometimes he’ll have to ground the airship completely when the weather’s bad enough.

That being said, it does make a good veil to escape in, both on foot and for his zeppelin. And he’s found out that a real torrential thunderstorm can make for a very exciting backdrop to ride full speed through. ▸     FOREST    OR    BEACH ?   The beach by far. Just give him a surfboard and he’ll spend all day on the waves. (No not that one get your mind out of the gutter maybe in five years when he’s older JEEZ) Not to mention the sun and coastal winds go hand-in-hand with the hawk. 

Not to mention Jet can fit a Hawaiian shirt pretty nicely, as you can see from the Sonic Channel artwork.

▸     PRECIOUS    METALS    OR    GEMS ?   Precious metals, simply because they’re more practical. Jet often finds him and his Rogues scavenging around for good scrap to bring in and salvage for supplies. After all, keeping an big, metal airship running can be a tall order sometimes. ▸     FLOWERS    OR    PERFUMES ? Neither? If he had to pick one, however, I suppose he’d go with perfume. Mostly because they don’t require any care and won’t just wither up and die. ▸     PERSONALITY    OR    APPEARANCE ?   For now, Jet’s pretty vain and goes mostly for appearance. He’d still need a personality that he could live with, but seeing as he’s of the age where he’d only just recently started to go “Oooooh, girls” he’s still indulging in the appearance more than anything.

He also finds himself accidentally starting to stare at Wave sometimes...just sometimes. ▸     BEING    ALONE    OR    BEING    IN    A    CROWD ?   In a crowd, specifically with all eyes on him. Jet loves being the center of attention, both good and bad. He craves recognition and will hog the spotlight at any chance he can get. ▸     ORDER    OR    ANARCHY ?   Anarchy, hands down. Chaos is Jet’s element. He thrives in the unpredictable. The more maddening he can make any situation, the more he gels with it and can turn the tables on anyone who opposes him. Even in heists, he often finds himself taking the fast and noisy approach, stirring up enough chaos in the process to leave everyone guessing what even happened as he rushes in, takes the goods, and bails. ▸     PAINFUL    TRUTHS    OR    WHITE    LIES ? Painful truths. Jet will tell you to your face exactly what he thinks without a moment’s hesitation. No matter how crude, how mean, and how hurtful it is, he’ll say it and he’ll say it with a smile on his face.

In fact, he’s more likely to lie to hurt someone than lie to make them feel better.

▸     SCIENCE    OR    MAGIC ?   There’s a lean towards “science” here, but overall just magic enhanced by science. Jet uses both on a regular basis. By nature, as his title of “Legendary Wind Master” would imply, Jet is aerokinetic. However his powers are still young and budding, and to do anything noteworthy, he needs his Bashosen or Bashyo Fans to amplify the work for him.

Another good example is the Ark of the Cosmos. This is, in a whole, ancient advanced science, but there were some very, very occult arts required to create them.

But that’s something Jet and his team will discover sometime later. (°<°)

However he still has a heavy tech reliance. His Type-J is an example of that, as well as his goggles which contain a comms device, a HUD (wirelessly connected to his Type-J at all times), and the computing power of a decent smartphone. ▸     PEACE    OR    CONFLICT ?   Conflict. Though neither Jet nor his team want to see the world fall apart, they all find a little shake-ups every now and then to really stimulate their profits.

Of course, they merely aim to profit off the strife that already exists, believing that “Well, it’s happening either way. Might as well make a little cash off of it” and would never even think of artificially inciting a war or something similar on their own just to profit off of it.

▸     NIGHT    OR    DAY ?   Night, by far. Jet feels more at home with the sin and vice that a big city’s nightlife can bring and being a thief by nature, just feels more comfortable under the cover of nightfall. Overall, it’s just more chaotic, the people are more lively, more real.

▸     DUSK    OR    DAWN ? Dusk. This one’s pretty simple as Jet tends to stay up late and sleep in well past noon. He rarely even sees the dawn, but the dusk is like a sign that his day’s about to hit the exciting part.

▸     WARMTH    OR    COLD  ? Warmth. Not that he minds the cold too much, especially when he’s got a snow-topped mountain to play around on, but too much and the sting of the cold gets to his muscles and holds him back.

▸     MANY   ACQUAINTANCES    OR    A    FEW    CLOSE    FRIENDS ?  A few close friends. Jet rarely feels comfortable opening up to anyone, always expecting the worst of them, and that if he ever shared anything personal, they’d merely use it against him. However, those he does trust, he trusts with anything and values them greatly, easily willing to put his life on the line at their defense.

▸     READING    OR    PLAYING    A    GAME ?   Playing a game, certainly. Preferably something with a lot of action, violence, and a need for quick reaction times.

—    QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    OF    YOUR    MUSE’S    BAD    HABITS ? He’s rude, he’s vulgar, he’s loud, he’s obnoxious, he doesn’t care about most people’s feelings or emotions.

He’s a bit on the specist side and thinks Babylonians and birds in general are simply better than humans or mobians.

▸      HAS    YOUR    MUSE    LOST    ANYONE    CLOSE    TO    THEM ?      HOW    HAS    IT    AFFECTED    THEM ? OH BOY HOWDY HE HAS. When Jet was younger, the Babylon Rogues had a member count somewhere in the 20s. They were more or less a large family of loud, disruptive, vulgar sky pirates, led by his father, Ace. They were a carefree bunch, roaming around and taking whatever they could get their hands on. Occasionally, sometimes, one of them just...wouldn’t come back. It was a rare occurrence and at the time, Jet didn’t really understand what had happened, just that he always missed them.

However, one day...none of them came back. It was just Jet, Wave, and Storm on their own. They’d soon found out that the rest of them, Jet’s father included, were set up and slaughtered, no explanation why, and no idea who’d done it.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    FOND    MEMORIES    YOUR    MUSE    HAS ?   His first time ever riding an EX gear. He was barely old enough to talk and his father was holding the board steady while he rode along at a snail’s pace. It was all he could do not to crash even then, but that didn’t matter. It was exciting and new and cool! He just wanted to ride again and again and again after that.

▸     IS    IT    EASY    FOR    YOUR    MUSE    TO    KILL ? Not at all. The very thought of it sickens the Rogues. As Jet often describes it, “There’s no point in taking a life. Treasure, gold, money, and everything else we take from people, it’s all worth something. But what’s there to get from snatching away a life? Just gets their friends to come after you with revenge on their mind. It’s not worth it”

Of course, as tough as he tries to act about it, Jet knows he couldn’t stand to put anyone through what he’s experienced.

▸      WHAT’S    IT    LIKE    WHEN    YOUR    MUSE    BREAKS    DOWN ?  One word. Explosive. With how much pressure he has to lead the Babylon Rogues, Jet always feels as if he has to be the strong one, the figurehead that the others can look up to, no matter what the cost to him. Of course, this leads to feelings, emotions, worries all being bottled up. He’ll often have his breakdowns behind closed doors, being reduced to a stuttering, stammering fool, incoherently blaming himself for everything that’s ever went wrong, breaking whatever he can get his hands on, clawing madly at himself.

But if he can’t get that out of his system, or something shakes him severely enough, that’s when he gets violent. If there’s anyone in the area he’d consider a target, the hawk goes out of his way to make an example of them. Concussions, broken bones, and other injuries are common when Jet enters this state of mind.

▸      IS    YOUR    MUSE    CAPABLE    OF    TRUSTING    SOMEONE    WITH    THEIR    LIFE ? Rarely, but yes. It’s borderline impossible to earn that kind of trust from him, but if someone has, they’ve likely earned it for life.

▸      WHAT’S    YOUR    MUSE    LIKE    WHEN    THEY’RE    IN    LOVE ? Very, very defensive. He’ll always be denying it, sheepishly shying away from the topic and trying to claim that he’s “too tough for that kinda thing” with his face flushing red the entire time. As of right now, he’s not too comfortable with the idea of it. All that kissing and gushy stuff just doesn’t have much interest to him yet.

...Yet.