#Blackberry Creek

[brandonraykirk]

Ran'l McCoy's Final Months (1914)

Ran'l McCoy's final months (1914) #Appalachia #history #HatfieldMcCoyFeud #feuds

Oral history relating to Randolph “Ran’l” McCoy’s final years is scant. Most historians rely upon Truda Williams McCoy’s book The McCoys: Their Story (1976) for information about his life. Here are a few news items which may in some part be reliable that provides more information about Ran’l and his final months of life. Randolph McCoy Falls into Fireplace (January 9, 1914) “Randall McCoy, who…

[vandaliatraveler]

Finally, a gorgeous spring day for a long hike in the mountains! Blake and I did the 7+ mile round trip hike on the Rohrbaugh Trail to Red Creek Canyon in the Dolly Sods Wilderness. This is a fabulous hike through old spruce forest leading to a rocky promontory overlooking the Red Creek drainage. Other than in the fall, you get the overlook mostly to yourself (true solitude is a rare thing in the Mid-Atlantic, with over a third of the nation's population crammed into the Eastern Seaboard). Yesterday, we shared the vista with a group of day-hikers from Pennsylvania, including one young acrobat who was doing backflips at the edge of the overlook (photo #7). Bat-shit crazy but ballsy. He also retrieved someone's lost sunglasses from a sketchy crevice.

Rohrbaugh Trail can be a tough hike due to muddy troughs that have formed in poor drainage areas. So if you decide to try it out - and it's absolutely worth the slog - wear a pair of good, water-proof hiking boots. This is wilderness, after all.

[jtbb]

i miss september

[graveyardrabbit]

[crudlynaturephotos]

[ambitiouspotions]

BERRIES | ARAGORN SON OF ARATHORN | ONESHOT

summary — aragorn finds it pleasing when his elven wife, y/n, eats berries

word count — 2.0k

warnings — 18+ MDNI, smut

author’s note — yes, i got that idea from my headcanons in my head and RAN with it /: sorry not sorry

“i still remember the moment i first laid my eyes upon you,” aragorn said, his chin brushing against the elf’s jawline as he spoke. her entire body tingled feeling the short beard sweeping into contact with her. “you have changed, yet stayed perfectly the same.” his hand was full of blackberries, occasionally offering one to her lips as he spoke.

y/n was lying on her back, propped up by her elbows to keep consuming the delicious fruit she was provided. every time his palm was empty he would dive into the woven basket to collect more. he had gathered them while she scrubbed their clothing against a rock in the creek. they had stripped their clothing the moment they had gotten to the clearing so the elf could begin her tedious laundering process.

their clothing now hung on a low branch of a tree, swaying with the wind as it passed through the clearing. it was a favorite spot among both of them due to its quiet and secluded nature.

the palms of his hands were splotchy with a dark purple-magenta color. his fingertips absorbed most of the berry juice but the rest of his working hands weren’t immune to the color. his many calluses, scars, the cracks in his knuckles, and even the lines of his palms held the stains from the sweet fruit.

“and you,” y/n started, trying to gather her words to articulate them as beautifully as aragorn. “you have managed a steadfast love that i never believed to be true until you made it so.”

his stained hands now cupped her chin, holding a smirk proudly on his face.

“all other loves are fallacies,” aragorn now leaning closer, his breath hitting her lips as he spoke. he did a slow look from her lips to her eyes, letting himself collect every detail. “they would never love you the way i do.”

y/n paused, her heart only beating faster. she couldn’t count the number of times he had given her that very look. though that look was responsible for her pleasure each time he flashed it. those grey eyes, so warm and inviting, though they were the same color as the lifeless and brutal mountains of the north.

the summer breeze was refreshing as they laid on a tattered blanket that had been taken with them on many of their walks to the creekside. the babbling and stirring of the water mixed with the windy rattle of the tree branches proved to be calming for the couple. their bodies lounging under the canopy of tree branches, letting just enough light in and providing a fair amount of shade to escape the summer heat.

aragorn pushed another berry into the elf’s mouth. he studied her more as she ingested the berry. her eyes were fixed on him, awaiting his next movement. he pushed a berry into his own mouth; his eyes never leaving her’s. he leaned forward, closing the gap between their lips. the berries that were in his hand dropped back into the basket so he could have more control over her body. he held the back of her head as he kissed her, releasing the grip from her chin and moving it to her waist.

the berry juice from both of their mouths mixing and spilling out as she gasped from the sudden connection. he took his thumb and wiped the corner of her mouth. his forehead rested on hers as his hands managed to find another place on her naked body to rest. intentional, every single brush of his fingers and the amount of pressure he used to grab her.

he laid her against the blanket, resting his hands on either side of her now. he was resting on his knees, looking down at the beauty before him. she tried to move a hand to his chest, but he intercepted it, beginning to kiss each of her fingertips and down the palm of her hand, stopping at her wrist. he guided it down to her heat, making her squirm just enough to provide a new desire within him.

he looked to the basket of berries and then to his elven jewel. a thought piqued his interest, and she saw it too. planning and innovating a new idea to make her satisfied. aragorn’s head dipped to her neck, licking columns. though the real enjoyment came when he reached for a berry and crushed it in his fingers to spread it on the areas he had saturated just previously.

he smirked at the creation of the juice running down her skin, making it a challenge to catch any stray juice that was falling. y/n mouth was agape as he continued to make an overwhelming amount of desire run over her body. her hand was stationary in between her legs, feeling the wetness grow into more of an issue, but not bothering to insert her own fingers, only wishing for aragorn to insert his.

she let out a desperate whine, trying to reach for his chest again as he rose from her neck. he still wasn’t allowing it. he placed her hand back in its position and guided her fingers inside of herself, watching them become engulfed in the sweet wetness she provided herself with. it was not scratching the itch she most desired, only making her more desperate. he pulled one of her knees up, allowing her fingers to go deeper. her cheeks were flushed, though she wished she could blame it on the summer day it was because he made her crumble under his every movement.

aragorn was enjoying the sight. her fingers curled in and out of herself as she spilled a slurry of moans and pleads. though aragorn was not willing to give in so easily, he wanted her to become even more vulnerable and helpless as every second passed.

his stained hand held her face again, halting her moans as she focused on him. he pushed another blackberry into her mouth. as she chewed her jaw went slack feeling his free hand guide her fingers inside of her again. her stomach caved in slightly as one of his fingers joined hers.

her head tried to turn to the side, but he kept her gaze focused on him.

“is it too much?” he asked softly, his voice laced with lust rather than concern.

“no,” y/n managed to breathe out. his fingers loosened around her face as she swallowed the berry. he tilted her chin higher, her soft breaths aching for more. his eyes caught a glimpse of her berry-stained tongue.

he took his finger from her cunt and offered it to her parted lips. her eyes were wide with surprise as it entered her mouth. his furthest knuckle scraped past her teeth as she lightly gagged on the digit.

he was pleased watching her taste her arousal. her hands held his wrist as he continued to use her mouth to clean his finger from her wetness. he only stopped when her whines turned louder, the creek’s babbling being drowned out by her need for him.

he pushed his hand through her hair, putting a few strands behind her ear to have a mostly unobstructed view. it was like he was debating his next move while finding an easy way to focus all of his attention on the elf. his mind was frenzied although he wouldn’t reveal it to her. it took immense amounts of self-control not to rush with her, even though he was quietly begging for her.

his erection, on the other hand, was not quietly begging. it was fully stiff and in need of the elf’s deliciously tight walls around him.

aragorn sat back, collecting the elf into his lap and letting out a low and unsteady groan as she slid down onto his shaft. his eyes were closed tightly until he felt her forehead rest against his. she wasn't fully seated before aragorn’s hips picked up trying to force more of his length inside of her cunt.

y/n’s lips were hungrily pressed against her betrothed and choked out indigent moans. her attempt at kissing him was poor until he reciprocated, guiding her back to a stable motion.

she was attempting to control the bounce on aragorn’s lap, but he slowed her pace, wanting to focus on her pleasure more than her working for his own orgasm.

he grasped her lower back with one hand, the other beginning to stimulate her nipples. she was impatiently grinding against him, trying to coax him out of his trance with her body. he only pulled her closer, his head lingering by her exposed ear.

“why must you rush me, meleth nín?” aragorn’s words made her tingle. her pointed ear rested against his lips after he placed a gentle kiss on her tragus.

“i cannot wait any longer,” she spoke softly, though the end of her sentence had a whine buried deep within the word. his cock was solid inside of her, occasionally twitching from the overwhelming feeling of warmth and the secure hold her walls provided.

“please,” she breathed out, her words hitting his shoulder.

aragorn did feel sympathy for the she-elf sitting so full upon his lap. her face now buried in his neck as his hands grasped her hips for stability as he began his upward thrusts.

the sweat against their bare bodies caused a bit of sticking as he continued to pound into her heat. she had her hand locked around her wrist tightly, not wanting his forceful movements to disconnect her from his neck. her head was tilted to the side, her cheek resting on shoulder limply as he pounded into her.

aragorn was panting heavily with every inch that was covered in her wet walls, each time he would reach her cervix he was inching closer, but did not want to give in just yet. his sweet elf was clearly enjoying herself, but not enough for his liking.

he held her tightly as he laid back, now able to see her opening as he continued his thrusts. he licked his berry-stained fingertips, now stimulating her clit with circular motions.

she gasped loudly at the sudden feeling, aching for more as she bounced unsteadily on his length. her thighs were shaking she she continued to be jolted by the man underneath her.

aragorn’s head was back as he praised the elven beauty sitting upon him. his voice was low and lustful as his movements only became more erratic. it was difficult to concentrate as y/n kept allowing his name to spill from her lips. her back was arching, her nails digging into his shoulder.

aragorn couldn't hold on for much longer. though as his cock swelled with more arousal that was when y/n moaned louder than previously. her eyes fluttered to the back of her head as she tried to keep a conscious mind trying not to cause painful marks on her beloved. it was so easy to unwind while he was inside of her. his tight grip on her only made her achieve a greater sense of satisfaction.

as her whines and moans became more spaced out aragorn could finally release. his head dipped into his chest during his final thrusts, kissing her collarbone gently as he slowed his movements.

they laid on the tattered blanket as they were before their marital affairs. aragorn still pushing berries into her mouth as she stared into his eyes. he was more reassuring than before, his touches even more delicate, and his gaze was thoughtful and sweet. he appreciated every inch of the woman lying next to him.

“meleth nín, how is your appetite for berries more insatiable than your appetite for me?” aragorn questioned, placing a kiss against her forehead.

“you are more satisfying.” y/n said, her eyes closing from the kiss.

it was hours before they moved and redressed. they only wanted to enjoy each other, though y/n would not deny any of the fresh berries that were offered to her by aragorn.

[petaltexturedskies]

When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the brambles nobody owns, I spend all day among the high branches, reaching my ripped arms, thinking of nothing, cramming the black honey of summer into my mouth; all day my body accepts what it is. In the dark creeks that run by there is this thick paw of my life darting among the black bells, the leaves; there is this happy tongue.

Mary Oliver, from "August" in Devotions

[halleehalfgallon]

August, by Mary Oliver

When the blackberries hang

swollen in the woods, in the brambles

nobody owns, I spend

all day among the high

branches, reaching

my ripped arms, thinking

of nothing, cramming

the black honey of summer

into my mouth; all day my body

accepts what it is. In the dark

creeks that run by there is

this thick paw of my life darting among

the black bells, the leaves; there is

this happy tongue.

[5-and-a-half-acres]

I love your blog! I've been following you for years now, and I want you to know I look forward to each of your posts. They mark the change of seasons for me as much as the birds and bugs and plants outside my own window.

I have one question. Is it tough maintaining the property? Landscaping, maintenence, etc?

I am happy to hear that, thanks so much!

Only the front acre is a proper garden and I like a more natural look so weeds don't stand out too much. I enjoy being outside and doing stuff in the garden so it really doesn't feel like work.

The rest is mostly ponds/creek and trees I have planted over the past 30 years- all sorts of unusual ones. In the beginning it was a lot of work keeping the blackberries and grass down until the trees grew big enough to shade them out. I feel so lucky to have witnessed a field turn into a forest over that time span.

[mxhollis]

I never hated being a girl.

I lived it, in this body that you so bluntly stated was not mine. Only a shell of the thing that was born wrong, a freak to be pitied and gawked at through the tinted glass. You paid a nickel to see me at my worst, cut in line and flashed a smile at the kid behind the booth; your misguided empathy made her laugh and you thought you were in on the joke.

But this flesh is mine, this soul is mine, and this enclosure was mine, too. It never occurred to you that I could leave, that I could go out back and scrape my knees climbing the knotted oak branches. I stained my palms picking blackberries from the bush and cheered as I splashed them clean in the creek.

You think I resent the girls who braided my hair with daisies, and garnished our potions with mud and honeysuckle? The girls who played house with me till the shadows grew long, who let me be a father, a son, a brother; never once believing the grown-ups when they'd say that "no, you can't take the makeup off, you'll have to get used to it sooner or later" and "aren't you a little too old to be playing dress up, you're practically a woman now" and "that kick to the teeth means he likes you, why on earth did you think you could hit back?"

Does it scare you when I say that no, I don't wish I was born male, because to be a girl was to be free from those make-believe standards you cling so desperately to? To be a girl meant to be joyous, to ride our bikes down the street and fall asleep laughing on someone's bedroom floor, a sugar crash with a soft landing.

Maybe I was never destined for womanhood, but my girlhood was sacred. I wrap that child up in a warm blanket and hug her tight to my chest, swearing to protect her until we take our last breath.

[keepcalmandcarriefischer]

Fox gloves and wild sweet peas

Horsetail ferns and licorice ferns and sword ferns

Blackberries and huckleberries and salmon berries

Stinging nettle and trilliums and miner's lettuce

Viny maples and Doug firs

Stumps and sticks

Grass taller than my head

And a creek running through the middle of it

[residentrookie]

thanks for tagging me @pretentiouswreckingball <33

three ships: wolfstar, jegulus, (will i be shot on sight if i say jily?)

first ship: percabeth 💗

last song: second nature by clairo (highly recommend if you are a fellow enjoyer of whimsy)

currently reading: the seven year slip! but i’m dropping everything to start intermezzo by sally rooney as soon as i get my paws on it

currently watching: schitt’s creek eps here and there

currently eating: dotz pretzels. if u know what these are then u understand why. the cinnamon sugar ones????? just bodied a costco bag of them.

currently craving: writing devastating wolfstar. hurt/no comfort. pining, yearning, longing, etc. cursed wolfstar. wolfstar stripped of joy. forbidden love wolfst—

tagging @static-radio-ao3 @a-fiery-fox @blackberry-sunset @twisted-tales-told @otrtbs

[the-october-country]

August, by Mary Oliver

When the blackberries hang

swollen in the woods, in the brambles

nobody owns, I spend

all day among the high

branches, reaching

my ripped arms, thinking

of nothing, cramming

the black honey of summer

into my mouth; all day my body

accepts what it is. In the dark

creeks that run by there is

this thick paw of my life darting among

the black bells, the leaves; there is

this happy tongue.

[syncopein3d]

Left Alone Part 9: Silencers 1

Tropes/content warnings: M for mature themes overall. vampire whumpee/caretaker, male whumpee/caretaker, non-binary whumpee/caretaker, general morbidity; this is a bit of a breather chapter before we get to the bitey shooty part in 2 and 3, so not a lot of relevant triggers. There will be a lot of play with, and discussion of, the concept of consent in this series, as it applies to many topics. There will be angst. Vampire biting can be painful, platonic, or NSFW and I'm not sure what direction that will take, but Tolly will definitely continue to fantasize about subtextually or literally sex-murdering Arden, as vampires often do.

If you would like to be added to, or removed from, the tag list of this series, please let me know!

Part 8: Faint

The kitchen had a back door facing out into the overgrown herb garden, an expanse of knee-high lawn, and the woods. He considered running the property barefoot, but he knew it was surrounded by forest. Only living wood was very dangerous to him. There was always the chance of stepping on a snag or a cut blackberry vine old enough to be woody, which would go through his foot like a hot knife through butter. Any real injury would use up too much of his pig’s blood to heal. He would wait for shoes.

He breathed in the night for as long as he dared, looking up at the stars – nothing important had changed in twenty years. It was one of the only things an immortal could depend on. The stars changed so slowly that they were always there. He could hear spring peepers in the distance from the creek beyond the lawns. A dizzying bouquet of scents burst over him, plant and human and animal and inanimate.

It was almost fearful, this sensation of his world expanding again. He hated the little room, had hated watching himself slowly shrivel and starve, but things inside it were very simple.

His time was limited. There was work to do. Tolly locked up again and went to collect the trash from downstairs and put it just inside the back door, so he could take it to the bin when his shoes arrived. He put the volume on Poe carefully back in its place on the library shelf.

With these preliminary matters accomplished, Tolly went to sit, ankles crossed, on the big stairway so that he could teach himself to use the phone. Moonlight glittered in the stained-glass skylight above the vestibule. It depicted the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone, very traditional for someone of Nicholas’ religion.

A current smartphone was a fascinating thing, so unlike the phones he remembered. The internet was mind-bogglingly fast, too. It amazed him. He couldn’t get the wifi password from the phone itself. He’d have to ask Arden later.

Tolly's ebay account still existed, and his bank had a web site now. He was able to register after some finagling with taking pictures of his face and talking on the phone to what turned out to be a machine with recorded human voice segments. At the end of a couple of hours he had linked his account with a few payment services, ordered new cards, and signed up for Amazon. The phone Arden had ordered him was a prepaid – he could see Arden’s Amazon, too – so he let that be for now. It was functionally disposable that way, and he could charge it with minutes and not invest in a plan he might not need. There was no point in spending so much on something that might so easily break, and the parasitic integration of Google accounts did have the advantage of convenience. Every phone could, from now on, be the same phone, as long as it was the same operating system to recover data from the cloud.

His stockbroker had a web site now. He signed up for that, too. His stocks had performed extremely well in his absence, as it turned out. He sent a message to the accounting service he had used for two generations of American identities, claiming he had been ill and undergoing treatment and asking if they would do business via email now. They were supposed to have kept up with his capital gains taxes, but it would be as well to assess the situation and pay any fines or back taxes he might owe.

His current identity was forty years old now. He should start establishing a younger one to “inherit” soon, so that when he got to seventy or eighty it would be ready. Obtaining a social security number fraudulently was probably harder now. Maybe this “dark web” thing would be of use. He should probably figure out what a “VPN” was first.

But that was a less urgent matter. He needed shoes. Hair and nail care kits went into the cart immediately, of course. But he had to mull over the issue of wardrobe. He couldn’t go back to tailored business clothing when Arden’s apparent preference was  casual, and besides, if he looked too  wealthy it would create friction. He wouldn’t be entirely convincing in young people’s clothes, either. At some point he would have human blood again, be strong again – the roots of his canines ached – but even glamour could only do so much.

Very well. Pacific Northwest casual. If they needed to do something more formal, he would need to clothe Arden anyway, so he could shop for himself if it came up then. He’d no idea what their incarnation of gender portended for dress clothing, and for now, it didn’t matter. He ordered straight-leg jeans and corduroys, tee shirts, flannels, a couple of tank tops, and a wool-lined leather overcoat. These were what he would consider inexpensive but durable brands. He would have spent more on footwear, but Arden’s shoes were of the $30-on-sale variety, so he settled for Florsheim’s sneakers and the cheapest available leather wallet for the payment cards he expected to receive by mail shortly. If things weren’t dramatic in appearance, and the brand name wasn’t obtrusive, most people wouldn’t know by sight how much they had cost.

Toiletries. Shaving wasn’t exactly necessary, because Basilia had made him shave himself before she initiated him, but it was important to keep up appearances. No wristwatch, people used phones for that now so it was an accessory of fashion he didn’t immediately need. He ordered a canvas duffel bag, too.

A lot of packages were going to appear in the next day or so. He’d rushed everything that could be rushed. It couldn’t be helped. He didn’t want Arden spending any more of their monetary cache on him. He debated wiring more money. Best not to overwhelm them. Their exhaustion and collapse indicated what Tolly instinctively thought of as a nervous disposition before he remembered that different phrasing was appropriate in a more modern era.

He wondered what version the DSM was on now. He checked. He also checked if Maulian Basal Retinoid Syndrome was still considered a valid disorder. It still was. He smiled for a second to see a Dr. Lauren Phibes, Junior, listed as the predominant expert on the disease. Lauren had gotten “old” enough to need to pass on his practice, finally. When the present crisis was over, Tolly resolved to get in touch again. Lauren was always good for an interesting evening.

He needed more time investigating the popular culture to update his mental vocabulary to his apparent age instead of twenty years “older” (he politely refrained from looking at the bookmark folder labeled “homework” – some habits apparently survived from Arden’s high school or college years) but the phone said it was already 4 a.m. and he had best deal with the matter of dawn approaching.

Tolly hurriedly logged out of everything and logged Arden back into Amazon and Gmail with his password from an app that only asked for the locking code again. He wrote a brief note in the study – the ghost of Nicholas remained in scent even after so long - and soft-footed it back upstairs to leave both note and phone on the nightstand.

Dear Arden:

I took the liberty of borrowing your phone to transact some business. I have attempted to leave it as I found it, but I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused. I also apologize for all of the package deliveries. If you would do me the favor of bringing them inside, I will deal with them tomorrow night. I ask only because your weather app indicates rain is likely.

Your written orders will be obeyed, if you don’t want to wait up tomorrow evening.

I have also ordered another case of non-dairy protein shakes in the chocolate flavor, as it appears you are out. Please drink at least two.

Bartholomaeus

Then he shut the basement door behind him and smugly walked back downstairs, feet protected from even the dead wood of splinters by his thick if increasingly dirty socks. He read Dumas until his eyes began to grow dim and his limbs unwieldy. Then he crawled back into the sleeping bag. He left the socks laid out on the rug, to keep the inside of the bag clean.

“Tolly. Hey, Tolly. Wake up!”

A voice snapped him back to consciousness. Tolly unzipped the bag far enough to emerge, crawling backward on his hands and feet until he was out far enough to kneel. His hair was in worse case now. He could tell as he ran his talons through it. Arden stood outside the small room, pounding on the wall next to it with one fist. They stopped as they saw him emerge.

“Something weird happened today,” they said.

“What is it?” Tolly asked.

“I got a cash offer of five million dollars to buy the house and everything in it,” Arden said. “From some company. TriVenture LLC. Their lawyer called the lawyer who settled Uncle Nick’s estate.”

“What did you say?” Tolly asked, pulling on his socks before he turned to shake the sleeping bag and tightly roll it up.

“I said I needed to think about it. It’s weird, right? The whole property probably isn’t worth a million dollars, not out here in the County. Five is insane.”

“When Nicholas was killed, was a body found?”

“That might be hard to hear,” Arden said. “It was pretty awful.” It might be hard to say, said their tone.

“It may be important,” Tolly said.

“They found tiny bits of blood and hair where he was impaled on the steering column, because the airbag didn’t deploy when he hit a tree, but the car basically exploded. There was nothing left but metal and burning upholstery when somebody found it. And some animal teeth scattered around. That was weird. They investigated for mechanical faults, but there wasn’t enough left to tell.”

“Was the accident in daylight?” Tolly asked, stopping with the bag under his arm.

“Yeah, it was afternoon when they found it and it was still burning,” Arden said. “Why?”

Black Tolly was silent for a long moment. Then he said, “He died twice.”

“What?”

“He injected himself with my blood for years. One who has consumed undead blood does not remain dead. He died in the accident, and then when he changed, he died again in the fire and in the sun.”

“That’s fucking awful,” Arden said.

“I doubt it was an accident,” Tolly said. “Not when someone wants to buy his house and effects at a price so high. He said he was leading them away from the ring, didn’t he?”

Arden squinted unhappily. “So, who killed him, then?”

“I don’t know,” Tolly said. “He didn’t tell me who his enemies were. He vaguely hinted that he had some within his religion, but I was never sure if he meant it.” Arden was starting to look pale and sound thready again. It was time to introduce another topic. “Did my things arrive?”

“I stacked it all in the other guest room. Do you want to keep sleeping down here instead?” Arden asked uncertainly.

“If you are willing that I rest aboveground, the sleeping bag is adequate to protect me from the sun. I would just as soon never see this room again,” Tolly said.

“I don’t blame you,” Arden said. They looked at the ceiling. “Which is why I wonder how come you’re still here and not already in Seattle at the Fairmont Olympic or somewhere?” Tolly wondered if they had phrased it that way on purpose, so that he was not required to answer. It was hard to say.

“May we discuss this later? I would like to shower and cut my hair, with your permission.”

“Sure.”

“And perhaps you might consider going to bed.”

“If I say ‘fuck off’ will you interpret that as an order?”

“Not any more,” Tolly said cheerfully.

“Fuck riiiiight off, Tolly.”

“Adorable.” He ran his fingers through Arden’s hair on the way past. They saw it coming, but they didn’t try to avoid it. With a feeling of self-congratulation, he listened to their heart skip. They were turning red again, and they almost certainly would forget the question.

Black Tolly emerged from the guest bathroom in an hour with short hair and short, smooth nails. Someone looking closely could see they were growing from his fingers in an odd, embedded way, but that couldn’t be helped yet. He wore his new jeans, pre-faded blue tee shirt, jacket, socks, and the brown leather sneakers. His new wallet was in his pocket and the phone was in his hand. Everything else went into the duffel bag or the washer in the laundry downstairs. He absently poured detergent one-handed as he started logging into accounts with the other.

He took the pile of cardboard and trash from the packages outside to find the bins. He stood by them for a moment, listening to the night. It was cloudy, and it had rained, leaving the smell of petrichor still lingering in the air. There was a feeling of heavy possibility that he now knew probably meant a change in air pressure, so it was likely going to storm. Wet grass brushed his new jeans.

He had shoes now, Tolly thought. And he had not been outside in twenty years.

So Tolly ran.

He circled the grounds, peered through the thickets into the wood, listened to the sounds of small creatures. Once he caught a common poorwill hawking. It was a big-headed little-beaked bird with feathers patterned like gray leaf litter, fluttering from its perch to snap at moths and darting back. In the darkness its eyes reflected moonlight like twin mirrors, common in all creatures with real night vision. It ignored him, though it could see his own eyes reflect in turn. He wasn’t close enough to be dangerous. He watched it for several minutes before he resumed his run.

Sights and scents and sounds flowed over him, around him, but now he was sufficiently master of himself to absorb it without being overwhelmed by it. At least, for a while. It was still long before dawn and his lower pant legs were wet with dew when he slipped back in through the back door, weary in mind and attention though not yet in body. The leather sneakers had kept his feet dry. He was not in particular need of a shower otherwise. Sweating was one of several functions that had perished with the original life of his body.

Arden was standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the ceiling. Tolly followed their gaze and found absolutely nothing except the industrial light fixture with the bare bulbs. They were shaking. “Arden?” Black Tolly said. His flickering glance found the Eye of Rule still on their finger.

“Something terrible is about to happen,” they said. @fleur-a-whump, @bitchaknso, @valravnthefrenchie, @thewhumpcaretaker

Part 10: Silencers 2 (Mature content)

[mothgodofchaos]

Name

You really should listen to your elders, there may be some wisdom in their words.

Fae!Marvin the Magnificent x GN!Reader, TW: imprisonment, possessiveness Words: 792

Your mother always told you not to wander into the woods, and avoid any mushroom circles. While you were younger, you always listened to her warnings. But now that you’re older, it’s hard to think it’s anything other than pure horseshit. The woods call to you, whispering its secrets into the wind, waiting for eager ears to catch them and investigate. And who are you to say no to the whispers in the wind? 

You make the trek alone, a satchel with jars inside for collecting anything that looks interesting, and a harvesting knife for foraging. You found some chicken of the woods, which was an exciting find. Your memories of rhymes for local berries seem to escape you, so you stick to just the blackberries you can reach. Coming around the bush, you spot a creek flowing, with a large amount of flora and fauna crowding around it. Little frogs hide under mushrooms, butterflies lay delicately on the petals of wildflowers, tiny fish swim in and out from under the lily pads. A ways down, you spot a doe and two fawns drinking from the creek, prompting you to pull out your camera to capture the precious moment. 

When you turn back to your section of the creek, you spot a mossy clearing across the water, with what seems to be a stone circle. An illegal campsite, you think to yourself, irritated that someone would endanger the local ecosystem with something like a campfire. You hop over the creek, slightly slipping on a stone before steadying yourself. Your hands grip your camera, ready to take photos of the evidence to submit to the fish and wildlife services. As you get closer, you notice weird markings embedded into the stones, vandalism you rationalize. Mushrooms line the outside of the circle as well, almost like they and the flowers don’t dare enter. Something inside you remembers what your mother told you, but you just shake your head. That’s just nonsense they tell little kids to keep them from getting themselves lost in the woods, and you’re not a little kid anymore. 

Your camera snaps photo after photo, not daring to step inside the circle yet until you get thorough evidence of the outside of the stones. As you flip through the photos, you notice a blurry figure standing in the center of the circle, seemingly staring at you. It doesn’t matter what angle you seem to take the photo from, it’s always looking at you. In some, almost like it’s posing for you, but always getting ever-so closer to the edge. You throw your camera, stumbling back into the faerie circle. When you open your eyes again, the figure is standing above you, holding out his hand. You scramble back, back pressed flush against one of the stones as you stare up in fear at the figure.

“There’s nothing to fear, no harm by my hand will happen to you. May I have your name?”

“Yeah, it’s-”

Right as it leaves your lips, he closes his hand, a fanged grin looking down at you.

“Foolish daonna, did your parents never teach you to never give your name to the good neighbors?”

He turns, long mossy green hair braided intricately and decorated with wildflowers and gemstones. His wings are revealed to you, glittering with blue and green, refracting light onto the stones. You can now read the symbols that were on the stones. Names.

“Are those, gravestones!?”

“Graves? Oh no, merely, trophies. Yours will go right there.”

The ground rumbles as another stone rises out of it, a point of his finger and a flash of green explodes on the face of the stone, leaving an inscription you can’t seem to read, unlike the rest. It glows for just a moment as he flicks a bug off of it, turning back to you.

“Come now, time to take you home.”

“So I can leave?”

“Let me clarify, we are going to my home. You are mine now, enslaved into service. As is what happens when you give the fae your name.”

His hand glows green as you feel yourself being lifted off the ground, brought to his side, standing up on your feet. The reality of your situation has firmly set in, but you have one last idea on how to accomplish your freedom.

“Well, may I have your name? It’s only fair.”

“Those tricks won’t work on me, daonna. And I am being perfectly fair. Perhaps you should have listened better.”

His fangs glisten at you, magic keeping you close as he brings you closer to the fae city, like a hunter and his prize. You pray to the gods that someone finds your camera, and doesn’t make the same mistake you did.

[vercosims]

Thank you for the tag @gamyrmaiden!! I feel like there's so much stuff for Yvette already, so it's about time I show some love to this treasure for once. Name: Tommy Stringer Nickname(s): Crash, 'T', Stinger (like Stringer except there's no r...you get the point) Gender: Male Star Sign: Scorpio Height: 6'4, he's basically a giraffe. Orientation: Questioning Nationality: Tommy's a British boy. He was born and raised in Camden Town for a good portion of his life before his family decided to make the sudden (and dramatic) move to Willow Creek. Fruit: Blackberries Season: Winter Scent: Gasoline.. Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Maybe a hot chocolate Average Sleep: Nonexistent Dream Trip: Del Sol Valley Number of Blankets: Maybe one on a good day Bonus Fact: When Tommy turned 16, his parents kicked him out of the house. Luckily, Yvette's mom, Lucia Corona, decided to welcome him into her home with open arms. He and Yvette were close before, but this experience brought them even closer. My brain is malfunctioning and I don't know who to tag, so if you see this and you feel like doing it, by all means go for it! This was so fun to do :)