#Dover Town | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jezebelblues · 2 days ago

Text

in body and blood | h.s

pt. i

summary: over a century adrift in darkness, he found his sun—not in the dawn, but in the quiet fire of her love, a light fierce enough to bind even eternity.

cw: fem!reader, blood+blood drinking (bro is literally a vampire there's going to be blood) 1700s!harry, mentions of death

word count: approx 7.3k

I yall this excruciatingly long so i just figured it was better to split this into four parts. it starts off kinda slow i knowwww but i feel like it fits his character. anyway I hope u will like. mwah :* also YES his heart beats idk i took creative liberty in assuming the blood he drinks would give him some sort of circulation and YES i drew inspo from tvd i like their vamp lore the most ok bye

Fourth of November, 1701

The English flag thrashed wildly in the biting wind, its edges snapping above the clank of chains and the groan of wood as boats were fastened to the harbor. Hooves clattered against the cobblestone, mingling with the grumble of cart wheels as townsfolk hurried homeward, eager to escape the deepening chill of evening.

Winter crept in with an ill-fated air, a shadow over the town. The fishermen’s hauls dwindled to nearly nothing, their nets coming up bare. Squash and pumpkins, once abundant, softened and rotted on their vines before they could be harvested. Livestock, struck by a strange sickness, perished too soon, their spoiled meat no longer fit to eat. Lately the townsfolk scraped by on what little they could hunt—rabbits, mostly—a meager fare that barely stretched to sustain a family for more than a few days.

YN stood at the end of the dock, the sea’s bitter wind pulling at her hair. A basket woven by her mother dangled from her arm, half-covered by a cloth beneath which a few herbs and stunted vegetables peeked through. She waited for Niall, a fisherman she’d known since childhood, to come ashore. His face was grim, his knuckles pale as he secured his boat. “Any luck?” She asked over the wind, though she already knew the answer.

His mouth twisted into a scowl as he wiped his hands on his trousers and approached her. “Lucks got nothin’ to do with it. s’the new king, swear it. God turned his back on us ‘cause of him.”

She winced and swatted his arm lightly as they started toward the stone walls encircling the town. “Don’t say such things, not out loud.” She kept her voice low, though she too had her doubts about the new ruler. “Best not to tempt fate with those words.”

He rolled his eyes and took the basket from her arm, letting it hang from his own so she could tuck her hands into her sleeves. “You agree with such things. S’pose God does as well from the lack of bloody fish.”

They passed under the worn stone archway marking the entrance to town, their footsteps echoing against the ancient stones. Dover was nestled between the English Channel and rolling green hills, hemmed in by rocky shores and the stark rise of the cliffs, standing watch like grim sentinels over the troubled little town.

As YN and Niall made their way up the winding path from the square, the quiet crept in around them, settling like a thin mist. The evening was thick and gray, heavy clouds stretching over Dover and flattening the light into a cool, uneasy dusk.

Each face they passed, they recognized. it was impossible not to, in a town so small. There was old mrs. Harris, hunched beneath a weathered shawl, who gave them a knowing nod as they went by, as if she alone were privy to the day’s secrets. And mr. James, pulling his cart toward home, who offered a quick tip of his hat, but avoided meeting their eyes too long, as if a weight hung over all of them that no one cared to mention.

Niall, walking beside her, held his silence longer than usual, and there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes when he finally turned her way. “You’re still makin’ that stew, yeah?” He hummed, nodding toward the basket swinging lightly in his hand. His tone was casual, almost lazy, yet she sensed something else beneath it, like he was testing the waters of a conversation he couldn’t quite bring himself to start.

“Mum has already started it,” YN replied, keeping her voice as light as his. “Cabbage, onion, bit of thyme. barely a stew, more a broth.” She cast a sideways glance his way, catching the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his mouth.

“No doubt you’ll have your sister servin’ it, then?” He asked, as though it were an afterthought. “I hear she has a way of makin’ anything taste finer.”

YN’s lips twitched, a hint of humor flickering in her eyes. She knew well enough where this was going, but she didn’t indulge him outright. “Oh, she has her charms, but she’s picky ‘bout who gets to see ‘em.”

He laughed quietly, a low sound that seemed to carry on the breeze, soft and uncertain. “She's got the whole town near dreamin’ of her, from what I hear. never seen her eye stray toward anyone, though.”

YN glanced away, her gaze drifting over the clustered rooftops, the narrow chimneys stretching into the dimming sky like spindly fingers. “You’d need more than a bowl of stew to catch her fancy, Niall. You’d best hope for a rich merchant or a duke comin’ ashore.”

His chuckle died off, and for a few quiet moments, they simply walked, the soft scuff of their shoes blending with the distant murmur of the sea. Yet something hung between them, unspoken, like the faintest shadow shifting at the edges of their conversation.

It was Niall who broke the silence, his voice lower this time, his words careful. “Have you heard the talk? About the old watchtower?”

YN’s gaze drifted to the far side of town, where the dense stretch of forest gave way to a steep rise, the silhouette of the abandoned tower just barely visible through the trees. “Folk say all sorts of things,” She muttered, almost to herself. “Been empty as long as I can remember.”

Niall’s eyes narrowed as he looked out toward the darkening line of trees, his jaw set. “Empty, maybe, but someone’s taken to hauntin’ it now. The lads swear they’ve seen a figure up there at night, just a shadow movin’ about, like he’s watchin’ the town from that high window.”

She felt a faint chill that wasn’t from the cold, and she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “They say a lot of things,” she repeated, her tone steady but soft. “Could be nothin’ but the wind playin’ with shadows.”

He tilted his head, the edge of a smirk softening his face. “Aye, that’s what I'd think, too. But seems each person’s got a different tale to tell. Some say he’s a protector, sent to keep us safe.” He shrugged, his gaze still fixed on the distant woods. “Others say it’s somethin’ darker—maybe one of the king’s men, sent to spy on anyone who dares breathe a word against him.”

YN’s lips parted, but she hesitated, the words hanging unspoken as her gaze lingered on the watchtower. Her grandmother had told her stories of that tower once, years ago, when she was still young enough to believe in the old tales without question. But she’d since brushed them off as the ramblings of an old woman long passed. Now, though, the stories flickered back to her, sharp and vivid as they’d once been.

“I heard some folk say it’s not a man at all,” She murmured, so quietly that her voice nearly vanished into the chill air. “Gran said it’s a spirit—a demon.” she let out a breathy laugh, sending a glance his way. “You believe my ol’gran true?”

Niall made a sound, halfway between a scoff and a chuckle, though he didn’t argue with her. “You don’t seem the sort to believe in demons,YN.”

She didn’t answer him, and for a moment, they stood in the gathering dusk, looking out toward the distant, looming shape of the tower, as if something there had caught them both in its thrall. A strange, unsettling weight hung in the air, pressing down around them, and neither seemed willing to break it.

The faint toll of the chapel bell echoed across the town, marking the evening hour. The sound seemed hollow, almost mournful, as it resonated through the narrow streets, slipping into every crack and crevice, lingering like a warning in the growing dark.

The path wound through the clustered homes of their town, each one narrow and stacked close beside the other, the rooftops tilting like old friends leaning together to brace against the coming winter. Flickers of candlelight peeked through small, thick-paned windows, casting brief glows over doorsteps worn smooth by years of footsteps. Voices drifted out faintly as neighbors settled in for the night, the low buzz of comfort after a long day’s labor.

As they neared her door, YN glanced sideways at Niall, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Well, no use lettin’ the stew go to waste with just me. You might as well come in and help make somethin’ decent out of it. And,” she added, with a playful glint, “my sister will be there, too. Might be the only chance you get to impress her.”

Niall feigned indifference, though she caught the hint of a flush in his cheeks beneath the dimming light. “Well, if it’s to spare you from that sorry excuse of a stew, I s’pose I could lend a hand,” he said with mock reluctance, yet his steps quickened as they approached the small wooden door.

Inside, the house was simple and small, with a low ceiling that sloped slightly, forcing even YN to duck beneath the beams as she led him in. A narrow hearth crackled with a weak but steady fire, casting warm shadows across the modest room, which served as both kitchen and living space. The scent of herbs, drying in bunches along the walls, mingled with the faint tang of smoke from the hearth. A single table stood in the center, its edges worn smooth, surrounded by a handful of mismatched stools and chairs, each one slightly wobbly but bearing the marks of care and countless meals.

“Is that you, YN?” Her mother’s voice came from the corner, where she was bent over a pot, stirring with steady, practiced hands. She looked up with a gentle smile, her face flushed from the warmth of the fire. “And Niall too! Just in time. I was about to send Arthur to fetch you, but he’s off fiddlin’ with somethin’ in the corner.”

Ten-year-old Arthur looked up at the mention of his name, a wide grin splitting his face when he spotted the blonde. “Niall!” He called, scrambling to his feet and darting over, a wooden sword in hand. “You’ll stay for supper, won’t you?”

He placed the basket next to the older woman before he tousled the boy’s hair, giving a wink to YN. “That depends—will your sister cook, or will your ma have mercy on me?”

YN rolled her eyes as her mother chuckled, stirring the stew with a knowing look. “I'll make sure to keep it fit for eatin’. Now, why don’t you both make yourselves useful and set the table?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Niall replied with a quick bow, flashing his best charming smile, though his eyes lingered on the slender figure by the fire.

YN’s older sister, Ella, sat with her needlework in hand, her fingers nimble as she embroidered a delicate pattern into the edge of a linen cloth. She looked up as Niall approached, offering him a nod and a faint, polite smile, though a flicker of amusement danced in her eyes.

“Ella,” Niall greeted, taking the opportunity to lean a bit too casually against the edge of the table. “Now there’s a sight finer than any supper, if I may say.”

“Oh, you may say.” Ella sighed, her tone as mild as her smile. “But sayin’ doesn’t make it so, does it?” Her eyes sparkled with a touch of mischief, and she kept her gaze on her stitching as if he hadn’t said a word.

YN snorted, reaching past Niall to set the bowls on the table. “She’ll need more than empty flattery to be wooed, Niall. You’ll be talkin’ all night before she so much as bats an eye.”

“Empty flattery?” he echoed, feigning shock as he helped with the cups, placing them with exaggerated care. “This is pure honesty, YN. Your sister’s a vision, though I'm not sure she sees it herself.”

Ella finally looked up, one eyebrow arched. “Perhaps that’s ‘cause it’s hard to see with all the bluster in here. Is it flattery or just another of your tales, Ni?”

Arthur laughed as he climbed onto his chair, his wooden sword clattering to the floor. “Tell a tale, Niall!” He urged, his eyes bright.

He obliged with a grand sweep of his arm. “Ah, tales are easy to tell when the company’s fine.” His gaze drifted meaningfully to Ella, who only smirked, clearly unbothered.

“Enough of your foolishness, Horan.” YN’s mother cut in, though her tone was warm as she dished the stew into the bowls. “There'll be time for tales when your stomach’s full. Now, all of you—sit, before this stew turns cold.”

They settled around the table, the simple meal set before them steaming in the flickering firelight. YN ladled out servings, keeping her own expression solemn as she dished out the rather grayish stew. Niall took a tentative sip, raising his brows in mock surprise.

“Well, I'll be,” he declared, setting his bowl down as if astonished. “Tastes just like stew!”

YN kicked him under the table, rolling her eyes. “Don’t sound so shocked, else we’ll make you eat the scraps.”

Ella, watching them from across the table, hid a smile behind her hand. “It's better than you deserve,” she teased, offering Niall a faintly teasing look that sent Arthur into a fit of giggles.

As they settled into their meal, the conversation turned to the familiar rhythms of the day—the fish hauls, the scarcities at the market, the latest mischief Arthur had managed, and the townsfolk they’d seen along the way. Laughter bubbled up around the table, filling the small room with warmth as the stew slowly disappeared, their bowls clinking softly with each spoonful.

It wasn't until they’d nearly finished eating that YN’s mother’s voice turned low, a faint shadow crossing her face as she glanced at arthur. “Arthur,” she said gently, “I don't want to hear any more of you playin’ outside the town walls.”

The boy frowned, his spoon paused halfway to his mouth. “But ma, I’m careful,” he protested, glancing between her and YN as if hoping for support.

“She's right,” Ella added, her voice calm but firm. “The woods aren’t safe, especially with winter comin’ on.”

He looked to Niall, his face a mask of confusion and a bit of defiance. “Niall plays near the woods, don’t you?”

He shifted in his seat, his smile fading just slightly as he glanced at YN. “Aye, lad, but it’s different. I'm older, and I keep my wits about me. Besides,” he added lightly, though his voice held a trace of something darker, “there’s been talk of someone wanderin’ near the old watchtower.”

YN’s mother sighed, folding her hands on the table. “Too much talk.” She said quietly, her gaze drifting toward the narrow window. “I don’t care if s’only lore, you’ll be safe rather than sorry.”

A hush fell over the table, and Arthur's wide eyes darted from face to face. “Who is it, then?” He whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “A man?”

Ella reached over to ruffle his hair, her voice soft. “No one knows. could be a man, could be no more than shadows. But some say it’s best not to linger too close to it, just in case.”

Niall, watching Arthur's reaction, leaned in with a grin. “There now, it’s probably nothin’ more than a lonely ol’ fox. But best stick close to home, eh? Can’t have you disappearin’ on us.”

YN tried to keep her voice light as she chimed in, though she felt the faintest prickling unease beneath the laughter. “You heard him, Arthur. best keep to the town, else you might end up a story yourself.”

The boy’s eyes grew even wider, and he gulped, glancing nervously toward the window as if expecting to see the mysterious figure standing just beyond. He fidgeted, his hand reaching instinctively for his wooden sword on the floor beside him.

With a faint, tired sigh, YN’s mother rose and began clearing the table, signaling the end of the meal. The warm glow of the evening seemed to have dimmed, and even Niall’s usual cheer was muted as he helped gather the bowls, his gaze drifting back to the light flickering along the walls.

Outside, the wind picked up, brushing against the windows and rattling the latch ever so slightly, a whisper against the warmth of the firelight. The small house was silent for a long moment, each of them lost in thought, each glancing occasionally toward the dark window where the night gathered, close and watchful.

Morning seeped slowly into Dover, pale and cool, bringing with it the damp scent of the sea and the faint call of gulls overhead. YN was awake early, as was her habit, slipping quietly out of bed while the house still lingered in the soft dimness of dawn. The fire in the hearth had died to embers, and a chill clung to the air, but she moved quickly, tucking a shawl around her shoulders as she crossed the small room.

Arthur, already up and dressed, was tugging at the latch on the back door, eager to start his morning chores. He looked back when he heard her steps, his face lighting up with a grin. “Thought you’d sleep through it, lazybones.” He teased, though his eyes sparkled with mischief.

She snorted softly, pinching his cheek as she passed him. “Cheeky lad,” she muttered. “Come on, then. Let's get to it.”

They stepped out into the brisk morning, their breath puffing in the cold, and began making their way down the narrow stone path that wound through the small patch of yard behind their home. Frost clung to the grass, glinting in the pale light, and the chickens shuffled restlessly in their pen as Arthur went to check on them.

“Careful now.”

He bent down next to them to scatter their feed. The hens fluffed their feathers, clucking contentedly as they pecked at the ground, and Arthur kept one eye on the rooster, who strutted about with his chest puffed, keeping watch over his domain.

“Look at him,” he whispered, stifling a laugh as he threw a handful of seed. “Thinks he’s king of all creation, that one.”

She grinned, crouching beside him. “Well, he’s a rooster. not much else to do but look important, is there?”

The boy giggled, tossing a bit of feed toward the rooster, who eyed him warily before puffing up even further. YN kept watch as he finished the feeding, carefully securing the pen’s latch when he was done.

They moved on to check the small patch of herbs and vegetables that clung to life in the early cold, though the frost had already done its damage. The leaves hung limp and dark, and YN frowned, brushing a thin layer of frost from a withered cabbage leaf.

“S’not lookin’ good, is it?” Arthur said, his voice dropping to a murmur as he followed her gaze.

“No,” she replied softly, her fingers brushing over the leaves. “But we’ll manage. Always do.”

He gave her a solemn nod, but she could see the worry in his eyes, the way he seemed to glance toward the woods, as if he might glimpse the shadowed figure their mother had warned him about the night before. She reached over and squeezed his shoulder, offering a smile.

“No need for lookin’ so glum, Arthur,” she said, keeping her tone light. “We've plenty to keep us busy, and I'll wager you’ll see that rooster crowned king before anything happens to us.”

He managed a faint smile, his spirits lifting just enough to reassure her. They finished up quickly, making their way back inside, where the warmth of the house greeted them. YN set about preparing a quick meal for Arthur and her mother, who was just beginning to stir, her tired eyes softening at the sight of her children.

Once breakfast was sorted, YN returned to her small room to ready herself for the day. She tugged off her worn nightdress, slipping into the fresh linen undergarments she’d set aside, and carefully pulled on a plain woolen dress that hung neatly from a peg beside her bed. It was a simple dress, but a neat one, its modest collar and long sleeves making it suitable for the chilly weather. she straightened the fabric, adjusting the waist so that it lay just right, and wrapped her shawl back over her shoulders, pinning it at the front with an old, weathered brooch that had once belonged to her grandmother.

She caught her reflection in the small, scratched mirror by the window—a young woman with steady eyes and a hint of determination in her gaze, her hair braided behind her, a few strands slipping free to frame her face. After a moment, she tucked a few stray wisps behind her ear and gave herself a brisk nod, turning to head out.

The streets were beginning to stir as she made her way down to the docks, the early morning light casting a soft, muted glow over the cobblestone. A few shopkeepers were already sweeping their doorsteps, preparing for the day’s trade, and a handful of townsfolk passed by, nodding their greetings as she walked.

When she reached the docks, she found Niall already there, standing by his boat, his hands working quickly to secure the ropes. His coat hung loose over his shoulders, and his hair was tousled from the morning breeze, but there was a contented look in his eyes as he glanced up and saw her approach.

“Well, if it isn’t the queen of the cabbage patch,” he greeted her, a grin breaking across his face. “Come to see if I've hauled in a king’s feast for ye?”

YN rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she stopped a few feet away from him. “I wouldn't go that far. but I'll settle for a decent fish, if you’ve managed one.”

He laughed, giving the rope a final tug before stepping back, wiping his hands on his trousers. “Oh, a decent fish, she says. Well, lucky for you, I've got just that.” He reached into a small wooden crate and held up a plump haddock, its scales glinting in the early light. “Not a king’s ransom, but it’ll do for stew, won’t it?”

She eyed the fish, unable to suppress a smile. “Aye, it’ll do. Might even save us from havin’ to wrangle another cabbage.”

Niall chuckled, tucking the fish back into the crate. “Couldn’t have that, now, could we? I’m doin’ my part to keep your cookin’ passable.”

“Passable?” She laughed, nudging him lightly as she stepped up beside him to peer into the crate. “You’re just glad to have an excuse to come round, steal our bread, and charm my sister.”

He gave her a mock-offended look, though his eyes glinted with humor. “Now, that’s hurtful, YN. I'm here for the food and the fine company, naturally. If your sister happens to be nearby, well, that’s not my fault, is it?”

She rolled her eyes, unable to help the small laugh that escaped. “Poor Ella’ll need more than a fish to be impressed. Best not get your hopes up too high.”

“Aye, she’s a hard one to please,” he admitted, a faint, wistful smile crossing his face. “But I'll manage somehow. or at least, I'll keep tryin’.”

They both fell silent, their gazes drifting out over the water, where a thin mist clung to the surface, casting an eerie calm over the harbor. The other boats rocked gently in the quiet, and the gulls called out above them, their cries echoing faintly across the empty stretch of sea. Together they turned back toward the town, the mist curling softly around them as they walked, side by side, in the quiet of the morning.

The midday lull brought a hush over the town, as folk took their brief respite between the day’s labors. The soft light of afternoon slipped over the rooftops, and YN found herself winding her way down one of the quieter streets toward Maura’s, a modest little cottage that doubled as the gathering place for the women in town. Here, around a crowded table of mismatched cups and chipped saucers, town gossip simmered as steadily as the tea.

Maura's door was open, the sound of voices spilling out into the cobbled lane, and YN slipped in quietly, greeting the women with a polite nod before finding a seat near the end of the table. The familiar faces of neighbors turned to greet her—Maura herself, with her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the kitchen, mrs. Harris with her ever-watchful eyes, and a handful of others who paused only long enough to give YN a quick nod before returning to the subject that had clearly held their interest long before she arrived.

“I'm tellin’ you,” mrs. Harris was saying, her voice low and edged with certainty. “There's somethin’ in that tower. maybe it’s a spy, maybe it’s worse.”

Maura scoffed, shaking her head. “If it were a spy, we’d know by now, wouldn’t we? why bother lurkin’ about if there’s nothin’ worth seein’ here?”

“There’s plenty to see, Maura,” the older woman sighed, leaning forward, her teacup nearly sloshing over the rim as she gestured toward the window. “Who’s to say he hasn’t been watchin’ us all along, takin’ note of who’s loyal to the new king and who’s not?”

Maura snorted, but one of the other women, Anna, leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. “or worse—what if it’s no man at all?” Her gaze darted to the others, her eyes wide with a kind of fearful excitement. “There are tales, you know. Of things that wander the woods. Spirits that linger in dark places, things that only come out when the days grow short.”

Mrs. Harris crossed herself, nodding solemnly. “Aye. folk say it’s a night creature—a demon, even.“

YN listened quietly, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup, but she held back a smile. as the women exchanged anxious looks, she leaned back, sipping her tea, the warmth of it calming her nerves. To her, the stories felt like little more than old wives’ tales—a way for folk to pass the time when the days grew cold and bleak. A lonely man, perhaps, who’d taken to the tower for solitude, a soul with nowhere else to go. Nothing so sinister as the women here believed.

“You've a skeptical look about you, dear” Maura said, catching her eye with a wry smile. “Don’t tell me you’d walk up to that tower yourself, would you?”

She met her gaze calmly, setting her cup down. “I'd sooner believe it’s a wanderer, Maura. Maybe one who wants peace more than anything else. Don’t see why we should fear him.”

“Peace, or no peace, he’s still up there, watchin’ us all.”

YN didn’t reply, only nodded politely as the conversation swirled on, the voices around her swelling in speculation and rumor. After a while, she quietly rose, setting her cup aside and offering Maura a grateful nod before slipping out the door and into the fresh air.

The chatter of the women faded behind her, and she took a deep breath, the cool air filling her lungs and clearing her thoughts. She knew she was unlikely to shake their unease or convince them of her view, but as she thought of the lonely figure up in the tower, something tugged at her—a kind of curiosity that gnawed gently at the back of her mind.

Without a second thought, she made her way home, moving quickly and quietly, her mind already set. She slipped through the door, pausing only to grab her small woven basket from its hook. Her mother glanced up, but YN offered her a calm smile, murmuring something vague about a quick errand before supper.

IN the small corner of their kitchen where they kept their stores, she selected a handful of berries from the last of their foraging, a few slightly bruised carrots, and a small bunch of herbs tied with a thin scrap of cloth. Modest offerings, but enough, she hoped, to serve as a token of peace, a sign that she meant no harm.

She took a deep breath and headed toward the edge of town, her footsteps light as she made her way past the familiar lanes and toward the narrow path that led up to the old watchtower.

The path leading to the watchtower was narrow, winding its way up the hillside in gentle, uneven curves. YN had walked these woods many times before, though never with the purpose she had now. Above her, the sky was beginning to darken, clouds gathering in ominous clumps, casting long shadows across the land as the sun slipped lower.

Her heart thudded in her chest, not from fear, but from a strange mixture of curiosity and anticipation. The stories she’d heard that morning lingered in her mind like faint echoes, each warning a small reminder of the mystery ahead. But she felt something else too—a quiet resolve, an odd certainty that she had to see this figure, whoever he might be, with her own eyes.

The watchtower loomed before her, its crumbling stone walls climbing into the sky, weather-worn and scarred by time. She could see now why the townsfolk feared it; it looked like a relic from another era, half-hidden by the dense growth of ivy and the creeping fog that clung to the base of its walls. It was silent here, too silent, as if even the birds dared not sing in the shadow of the old tower.

Steeling herself, she moved forward, her footsteps muffled by the damp earth. The closer she got, the more the watchtower’s age showed itself in cracked stones and vines, a darkness that seemed to pool between the stones, deepening the gray of the twilight. At the base of the tower, a narrow door sat slightly ajar, barely wide enough for her to slip through. She paused there, glancing up, feeling an odd twinge of nervousness as her gaze drifted to the upper windows, dark and empty.

Drawing a deep breath, she pushed the door open, stepping into the dim interior.

The inside of the tower was colder, the air thick and still. Faint light seeped through cracks in the walls, just enough to reveal the sparse furnishings—a wooden table, books, a chair beside the hearth, long since gone cold. Dust motes hung in the air, catching the dim light like fragments of stars, and a faint, earthy smell lingered in the space, as though the room hadn’t seen another soul in years.

Yet something else lingered too, something that made the hair on the back of her neck prickle—a sense that she wasn’t alone.

A figure stepped forward from behind a wall, emerging so quietly she almost missed it. He was tall, with dark curls that tumbled around his face, shadows clinging to his features as though he belonged to the darkness itself. His eyes met hers, a piercing green that seemed to hold an entire century’s worth of secrets, and for a brief, unsettling moment, she felt as though he could see straight through her.

“What brings you here?” His voice was low, quiet, each word clipped and precise, yet holding a softness that surprised her.

YN swallowed, her hand instinctively tightening around the basket she held. “I–I thought you might be hungry,” she stammered, offering the basket forward with a hesitant smile. “Folk talk of you up here, you know. Thought it might be nice to see if you wanted some company.”

He raised a brow, a faint trace of amusement softening his gaze. He didn’t reach for the basket, but instead continued to watch her, as though trying to make sense of why she would come here, alone, to his solitary refuge.

Didn’t seem exactly the safest thing.

“People rarely visit me,” he said finally, his voice barely more than a murmur, as though he were speaking more to himself than to her. “Especially not with offerings.”

“Well, it’s no great feast,” she laughed breathily—nervous, setting the basket down on the table. “But it’s enough for a quiet meal.”

He looked down at the basket, his expression unreadable. The shadows seemed to deepen around him, and for a brief moment, she wondered if he would turn her away. But then his gaze shifted back to her, gentle, as though something in her gesture had reached him in a way she couldn’t quite understand.

“I don’t need much,” he breathed, finally stepping closer, his movements careful, almost tentative. “But thank you.”

The silence stretched between them as Harry’s eyes lingered on her, his regard tracing every movement of her face, the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders, the way her lips pressed together as if searching for words. He could feel it—her pulse thrumming in her neck, the warmth radiating from her skin, the soft, steady rhythm of blood rushing through her veins. It was maddening. The sound alone clawed at the quiet corners of his mind, stirring that old, cursed hunger he’d worked so hard to bury.

But he couldn’t let her see that. Couldn’t let even a flicker of it touch his face.

With a composed nod, he turned his attention to the basket, using the small action to steady himself, to pull his focus away from her and fix it on the modest offering she’d brought. Herbs and roots, earthy and clean, none of it touched by blood. He forced his breath to steady, aware of her watchful eyes on him as he sorted through the items, careful to keep his hands stable.

“Are you here… often?” She asked softly, breaking the silence in a voice that felt almost hesitant, as though unsure whether it was allowed. Her gaze darted around the room, taking in the sparse surroundings, the thick shadows that crept into every corner.

Harry let his fingers linger on a sprig of thyme, keeping his voice level as he answered. “Yes,” he confided simply, his tone giving nothing away. “I find it… peaceful.”

“Peaceful,” she echoed, a faint smile touching her lips as she looked back at him. “It doesn’t frighten you, being all alone up here?”

He allowed himself the smallest of smiles—him—frightened? How sweetly ironic. “Sometimes solitude is easier than the alternative.”

She studied him, and he could feel the weight of her eyes, searching for something beneath his answer. Her heartbeat quickened just a bit, a small, steady thump that seemed to reach straight through him, its warmth coiling like a spark inside his chest. He could almost taste it—the sweet, heady pull of her pulse.

But he forced the thought down, burying it beneath years of restraint. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, redirecting the focus onto her. “And what about you?” he asked, his tone soft but steady. “Doesn’t it frighten you to come all this way, alone?”

She gave a small laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe it should. But I suppose I don’t scare easily.” She paused, her gaze slipping to the narrow window where the trees outside swayed gently in the wind. “It’s quiet here, almost like a different world. Sometimes it feels like our town is shrinking, like it’s closing in. Out here, it’s–it’s freer.”

Harry’s gaze softened, though he said nothing. There was something in her words he understood, something that echoed faintly in his own memories of why he’d chosen this place—this forgotten, lonely tower—to escape. A life he could no longer live, a curse he couldn’t risk unleashing.

She looked back at him, curiosity bright in her eyes. “People say you’ve been here a long time—I mean, they say the tower’s been abandoned forever. But you don’t seem…” She trailed off, biting her lip as though she didn’t quite know how to finish.

“Don’t seem what?” he asked, his voice low, inviting her to continue.

She waited, and he watched her carotid flicker in her throat as she searched for her words. “You don’t seem like someone who belongs in a place like this,” she murmured. “Like you’ve got more in you than—than just seclusion.”

He felt a tug deep in his chest at her words, something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time—a faint longing, a half-forgotten ache for a life he’d once dreamed of. But that life was gone. He’d buried it the night he’d been turned, when the world as he knew it had collapsed into a semblance of hell.

“It’s strange,” he replied carefully, his eyes drifting toward the flickering shadows on the wall. The hunger gnawed at him, unrelenting, every second reminding him of how close he was to her. She was standing barely a foot away, her warmth filling the small space, her heartbeat a steady, maddening drumbeat that drew him closer, closer…

He straightened slightly, pulling himself back. “Solitude,” he said quietly, almost as if reminding himself, “sometimes feels simpler.”

She nodded slowly, but her eyes stayed on him, and he could see the spark of curiosity still there, unquenched. She was brave, this girl. Far braver than most. And something about that bravery—the quiet way she stood her ground in the face of shadows and rumors, in the presence of a stranger—intrigued him. She wasn’t running away. And a part of him, despite everything, wanted her to stay.

“Thank you,” he mumbled—almost a dismissal, gesturing to the basket, his voice softened with a touch of genuine gratitude. “Not many would bring gifts to a stranger. Especially not one so isolated.”

She smiled, her cheeks flushing faintly in the dim light. “Well, maybe I’ll bring something better next time,” she replied with a small laugh. “If you’d want that.”

He paused, her words lingering in the air between them. Next time. It felt dangerous, allowing the thought of it, letting her return. But as she looked at him, her smile warm and unguarded, he found himself nodding almost without thinking.

“Yes,” he murmured. “I’d like that.”

But even as he spoke, he felt the old thirst stir beneath his words, a dark reminder that she was flesh and blood, and he was anything but.

Harry watched her retreating figure until the last of her shadow disappeared down the winding path. The silence settled thick around him once more, yet it felt different now, charged with the lingering warmth of her presence. The faint echo of her heartbeat still pulsed in his mind, like a phantom drum that refused to fade. He drew in a slow, deliberate breath, pushing down the hunger that had clawed so violently to the surface, fighting a void that had nearly overpowered him the entire time she’d stood there.

He had always been a weak man for the living.

Turning back into the tower, he closed the door and leaned against it, his hand flexing as he grappled with that old, familiar agony, the ache that thrummed through his veins whenever he was near a human. After all these years, after countless nights spent mastering his restraint, he still struggled. The curse was unrelenting—an obstinate thirst that he could never truly silence, only suppress.

Memories rose in him unbidden, dark and sharp, clawing their way out of the places he kept them buried. He could still recall the crisp air of that autumn night in 1601, back when he was alive, when he’d believed his life was bound for something beautiful. He’d been a poet then, a young man enamored with language, eager to make something of himself. He’d had dreams of attending university, of pursuing a life dedicated to literature and ideas, a life where he could spend his days wrapped in thought and art.

But all of that had been shattered in a single night. He had been walking back from a small tavern in London, tipsy and laughing, still reciting lines of poetry in his head, the night air filling him with a light, exhilarating hope. He remembered it so clearly—the dimly lit street, the damp chill creeping into his coat, the rough hand that had seized him by the throat and dragged him into an alley. He’d thought it was a robber at first, maybe a cutthroat from the docks looking for a quick coin.

But then he’d seen his attacker’s face.

The man’s eyes were inhuman, glinting with a feral hunger, and his skin was pale, almost translucent in the moonlight. Harry had fought, struggling against the impossible strength of those arms, but it had been useless. The man had pinned him down with a brutal ease, baring his teeth—a flash of something razor-sharp, malevolent—before sinking them deep into Harry’s throat. The pain had been excruciating, and then everything had gone dark, his life draining away into a cold, endless void.

He hadn’t known what had happened to him for days afterward. He’d awoken alone, hidden in the dark recesses of a forgotten basement, his body shuddering with an unholy thirst that tore through him like wildfire. The transformation had left him a half-mad, hollow shell, consumed by an insatiable need he didn’t understand. He’d stumbled through the streets, eyes wild, hunting without even knowing what he was hunting for. And when he’d finally cornered a man in the dead of night, tearing into his throat with a frenzy he could barely comprehend, he’d learned what he had become.

The first months were a blur of blood and horror, a nightmare he hadn’t known how to escape. He had been controlled by an ache, a greed—enslaved by it, a wretched creature lost to bloodlust. He’d fought it as best he could, but each time he tried to resist, the thirst only grew stronger, until he was reduced to a brutal, savage need that erased everything else.

It had been a year later, in 1602, when he encountered another vampire. His name was Thomas, a wily, unrepentant creature who fed freely and without remorse. Thomas had found Harry alone and ravenous, nearly mad from weeks of starvation in an attempt to restrain himself. He’d taken Harry under his wing, teaching him how to survive in this new, cursed life, how to hunt, how to kill cleanly. But while Harry had been grateful for the guidance, he quickly saw that Thomas reveled in the whispers of the devil, that he viewed humanity as little more than prey. He was malignant.

His own heart was too soft for such cruelty. He’d hated the feel of human flesh beneath his hands, the way his victims’ eyes widened in terror as he held them down, the way their life drained away in his grasp. He hadn’t wanted this life. But the need was too powerful, too all-consuming, and he had been too weak to fight it.

And then, in 1643, came the night that shattered him completely.

Her name had been Beatrice—a young woman from Manchester, one of the few souls who’d looked past his oddity, his quiet reserve, and seen something in him worth knowing. She’d been kind, curious, always showing up at his door with a warm smile, her laughter lighting up his otherwise bleak existence. For months, she’d been a balm to him, her presence a brief reprieve from the loneliness that gnawed at him. He’d been so careful around her, so painfully restrained, never allowing himself to get too close. But one night, after days of starvation, he had faltered. She’d come to visit him, concern etched on her face, her hand reaching out to touch his cheek.

And in that moment, he’d lost himself.

The memory of that night was burned into him like a scar, the scent of her blood, the warmth of it cascading from his lips and developing him whole— the sound of her heart slowing as he drank from her—all of it haunted him, even now, decades later. He had tried to pull away, tried to stop himself, but the hunger had overpowered him, consuming her life, taking everything she had. When he finally came to his senses, she lay cold and pale in his arms, her eyes staring up at him, empty and accusing.

After that, he’d fled, haunted by the horror of what he’d done, determined never to let it happen again. He’d hidden himself away in this tower, learning to feed from the animals that roamed the forest, forcing himself to endure the hunger rather than inflict his curse on another innocent soul. He would never again allow himself to feel that agony, that terrible loss.

And yet tonight, with her presence in his small, empty world, something had stirred in him, a strange, aching reminder of what it meant to be human, to crave connection, companionship. It was dangerous, foolish to even entertain such thoughts, yet he couldn’t deny the faint spark she had left behind.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slowly, steadying the wild, restless energy that surged in him. She couldn’t come back. He couldn’t risk it. He would have to find a way to make her think the tower was haunted, or evil—something to scare her off for good. Because he knew himself, knew that he was a creature of hunger, bound to a curse he couldn’t escape.

And if she returned—he wasn’t sure how long he could resist.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles concept #harry styles au #vampire!harry #vamprry #kinktober #harry styles series #harry styles fanfic #harry styles drabble #harry styles x you #niall horan

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hatchetmanofficial · 4 months ago

Note

Is Doomsbury based off any towns in real life?

The town itself is based in Dover, Massachusetts, and Salem, Massachusetts

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wub-fur-radio · 2 months ago

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Psychedelic Psounds of Pseptember 2024

Blowing in to town like a desert wind in a late summer California heat wave, Wub-Fur presents another rocking and eclectic streaming mix of new psychedelic indie rock music for your listening pleasure. Featuring hot hits and cool tracks by Ty Segall, the Shivas, Oh Sees, King Gizzard, Mountain Movers, Black Market Karma, Causa Sui, Meatbodies, and a half dozen more bands who know why the P’s are silent.

▶︎🎶 Listen on Mixcloud –or– Apple Music

Running Time: 1 hour, 4 seconds

Tracklist

Intro: Intro by Connections (0:13)

Can't Do That (5:21) — ORB | Geelong, Australia

Nightmare Song (3:09) — The Shivas | Portland, OR

Drug City (2:52) — Oh Sees | Los Angeles, CA

Field of Vision (3:33) — King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard | Melbourne, Australia

I Hear (4:29) — Ty Segall | Los Angeles, CA

Oozer (3:33) — Black Market Karma | Dover, UK

Dusk Dwellers (5:14) — Causa Sui | Denmark

My Holy Shrine (4:06) — Mountain Movers | New Haven, CT

Daisy (3:38) — The Silk RailRoad | Portland, OR

Noche Luna (5:05) — Pez Globo | Argentina

Anthropia (6:59) — Karkara | Toulouse, France

Rescue (5:41) — The Asteroid No.4 | San Francisco, CA

Psychic Garden (4:45) — Meatbodies | Los Angeles, CA

Aurora (1:26) — Valley of the Sun | Cincinnati, OH

All tracks released in 2024 (except, if you want to get technical about it, the 13-second intro, which is from 2018).

#psychedelic rock #neo psychedelia #indie rock #garage rock #stoner rock #music mixes

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lonelywretchjervistetch · 3 months ago

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The State Birds Initiative: Delaware (#1)

Welcome to the first official poll of the State Birds Initiative! Now, before the poll, one thing real quick. My suggestion is that you read the post below before voting in the poll below. That's especially important if you're lacking any context about the birds being presented as the new (or old) State Bird of the First State, Delaware. This is to be fully informed as to why these are being presented, and to make your choices appropriately. Lastly, some of these birds, you will notice, go against some of the rules listed in the introduction post. All is explained after the jump where the explanations are, I promise you that. But with that...OK! Here's the poll!

More details after the jump!

Welcome to Delaware, the First State!

Admitted into the Union in 1787 as the first state of this country, Delaware is the nation's second smallest, giving it the additional nickname "the Small Wonder"! Its capital is Dover, its most populous city if Wilmington (pictured above), and it's best known for its proximity to the Delaware River and the Delaware Bay, which it's actually named after. This does mean that Delaware Bay, for various reasons, will be one of the most important features of this post, since the wildlife that gathers around it is pretty ubiquitous in the state.

But OK, enough grade-school reporting of basic state statistics. What's Joe Biden's home state actually like, from the view of the citizens? On reddit, a user named hajisaurus said that Delaware is like a small town, but as an entire state. Compact, but eventful and familiar. Another user, raycooke, referred to it as the US condensed into miniature, with business in the north, beaches in the south and east, and farms in the middle. But the general vibe, it seems, is "familiar". Not overly friendly, but definitely close enough to be familiar. Also...the Bobbie.

God, that's a good looking sandwich. Invented in Delaware? Hell yeah. Anyway, off of turkey and onto birds. Personally, what all this says to me is that the chosen State Bird should be an easy-to-find sight, found throughout most of the state, and familiar to Delawareans in general. Something common but uniquely Delawarean would be great. In terms of habitat, water-bound seems appropriate, especially looking at beaches and estuaries. Again, the entire eastern border of the state touches the Delaware River or Bay, meaning water is somewhat important to the state (as is seafood).

Now, those Delawareans amongst us may have different opinions of what makes Delaware Delaware, and what represents its people most accurately. Which...yeah, I'm not from there, and I've only been there twice, and that's because I drove through it. Maybe went to one rest stop near Dover. And for the record, SOLID-ass rest stops in Delaware along the highway, just saying. Great job there, Delaware. But, yeah, PLEASE tell me if there's something else to take into account. And that goes for ALL of the states in this series, by the way. I can't claim to be an expert in any way here, so please call me on my bullshit if you feel that you have to. But, with that said, let's talk about what I do know: birds.

Red Knot (Calidris canutus)

For many of you, especially the bird-inclined amongst us, this was always going to be the obvious answer to this question. The Red Knot is an iconic Delaware bird for birdwatchers, as they're attracted to the state in MASSIVE numbers during migratory seasons. It's one of the most important and famous migrations in the country, and the flocks of Red Knots and other shorebirds are the main attraction. Why? Easy answer: the Atlantic Horseshoe Crab (Limulus polyphemus).

Delaware Bay is the site of the horseshoe crab's largest migration in the USA. This isn't the only place in the country they're found, but it's DEFINITELY the largest population of the species by a SIGHT. And speaking of iconic species, the horseshoe crab certainly fits the bill as a charismatic species of conservation concern. Which is why it may be curious that I'm highlighting the Red Knot, since they, y'know...EAT horseshoe crab eggs, alongside other birds in the great Atlantic seaboard migration. But that's actually why horseshoe crabs are so important.

Red Knots, amongst other shorebirds, depend on the horsehoe crabs for food, as these stopovers in Delaware Bay allow them to continue with their journey. Without the horseshoe crabs of Delaware, their life wouldn't be possible, and certainly not in the massive numbers found during migration. Understand, this is a threatened species, especially in the United States, that gathers in Delaware Bay in the thousands, with 2022 numbers being about 39,800 in a population. That's HUGE. The Red Knot is a symbol of this ecological boom, and both species should be celebrated. That's the reason the Red Knot is often given as the answer to this question of State Bird of Delaware, including by the Lab of Ornithology's article posted last year. Plus, it's got an iconic appearance, it's easy to find, and it tells a great story (which also includes a migratory distance of ~9,000 miles, which is crazy). Perfect, right?

...It doesn't breed in Delaware. It actually doesn't even breed in the United States. No, the Red Knot breeds in Nunavut and Greenland, above the limits of the Arctic Circle. I meant it when I said the Red Knot used Delaware as a stopover site. As such, it's an event when they arrive in Delaware twice a year...but they do leave. Pretty quickly, even. So, sure, the Red Knot is a great candidate for a number of reasons, but...is it OK if it doesn't actually breed in the state? I'd argue for it, since Delaware is is highest abundance of the species during migration in the country, and it's iconic in that way in particular. But I'll leave that as a question for you all to decide.

Let's go on to the next one, shall we?

Ring-billed Gull (Larus delawarensis)

OK, this one might be cheating a bit, since the bird in question is found basically...well, everywhere. It's definitely not native to Delaware alone, and doesn't even breed there. So why even include this bird in the running? Easy answer: it's in the name. It's the only bird species in the world with the state of Delaware in its scientific name. However, this is also cheating, since the name actually refers to the Delaware River, not the state itself. That's because the bird was first described and discovered along the river, which flows from New York, through New Jersey and Pennsylvania, until ending in Delaware and the Delaware Bay. And yeah...technically that was in New Jersey. BUT STILL! Only bird with Delaware in the name, just sayin'. And after all, if the Red Knot can be considered despite not breeding in the state, then...what about the Ring-billed Gull? Or...maybe I'll save this one for New Jersey.

American Kestrel (Falco sparverius)

OK, this one I'm actually a bit enthusiastic about, partially because I love raptors, and I especially love this raptor. The American Kestrel is a small falcon, and is in fact the smallest falcon (and raptor) in North America. About the size of a mourning dove, they're pint-sized predators, specializing on insects, rodents, lizards, and the occasional sparrow or songbird. They're also versatile, living all over the USA in various habitats. And that, of course, includes Delaware. This is a breeding species in the state, so it already has that above the other two previously discussed! And to top it all off...it's literally a small wonder. Come on, man! This is perfect! A scrappy falcon that's literally red, white, and grayish-blue!

But, OK, if it's common all over, why specifically Delaware? Because it's actually threatened in Delaware, fun fact. This is prominent enough to have inspired the Brandywine Zoo to work with the American Kestrel Partnership (part of The Peregrine Fund, who we'll discuss again on another day or five), and start the Delaware Kestrel Partnership, which monitors kestrel populations in the state. The species' population has decreased by 88% in Delaware and surrounding states in the last 50 years, which is...dramatic. It's a species that desperately needs saving and attention, and work in Delaware can be applied in the kestrel's entire range. Look, I beg you to check this out, because it's a fascinating set of projects. And honestly, this alone would have me include the American Kestrel on this list. Plus...that would also make this the first raptor to become a state bird.

Yeah. Take a look. NO raptors amongst the State Birds. Insane.

Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias)

Now, this one seems out of nowhere, but hear me out. For whatever reason, the Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) seems to be completely ignored as a state bird across the entire country, despite it being one of the MOST iconic birds in the United States. I mean, come on, almost all of us have seen a GBH at some point in our lives, especially if we live near water. But why suggest it for Delaware specifically, then? Well, the herons breed in Delaware, so that's checked off. They're found in the state year-round, making them easy to access and identify with. They're definitely iconic in appearance. They highlight the marshlands and wetlands of Delaware as an important ecosystem of concern. And...uh...

Look, I'll be straight with you. "Blue Heron" is the closest I could get to...another set of words associated with Delaware and birds. Because honestly, it's genuinely somewhat difficult to separate Delaware from those two words, and this would be a fairly minor change that would allow the use of that term with little fuss! And honestly, the Great Blue Heron isn't the worst choice in the world for Delaware, even if it admittedly barely breeds in the state compared to others. And...like...oh, goddammit, fine, let's get this over with.

Delaware Blue Hen (Gallus domesticus)

Delaware. Look at me. Why...in the blue HELL...did you choose a goddamn chicken as your state bird? I mean, for God's sake, it's not a wild bird, and even if it is a breed developed in the state, IT IS A CHICKEN! What possible reason could there be to choose this bird over all the other possible birds? And look, I like chickens as much as the next guy. Used to raise and keep them as a kid, so I do love them, but this just feels wrong. But OK, let's make the argument for them by looking at Delaware's original argument.

So, from basic cursory research, the Delaware Blue Hen dates back to the Revolutionary War. Apparently, one of the regiments of the American army raised fighting game chickens that were so well-known, the regiment itself became known as the "Blue Hens". It's also possible that the leader of this regiment, Jonathan Caldwell, had a special blue hen that had blue offspring, and the men in the regiment also took to calling themselves "Sons of the Blue Hen." Which means...shit. That means the Blue Hen actually has cultural relevancy specific to the state of Delaware. Damn, that's actually a good argument for their assignment. But with that said...there actually is a problem here.

The Delaware Blue Hen doesn't technically exist.

Yeah, this isn't actually a recognized breed of chicken, despite the INSANE amount of devotion Delawareans have for it. I mean, military regiments, sports teams, even the unofficial nickname for the state is named after the Blue Hen, and it's technically not a real chicken breed. Instead, they're actually American Game hens that are crossed with Andalusian Blue hens to get that iconic coloration, but they're not actually an isolated breed.

So...what does this mean? Because this is genuinely a problem, right? Delaware's state bird doesn't actually exist, AND it's a chicken. Well...I have a proposition for you, Delaware. Because I do recognize the fact that the Blue Hen seems to mean a lot to you, both now and historically. So, if that's the case, we need to recontextualize this guy in a couple of ways. So, here's my proposition...

Make the Delaware Blue Hen the State Game Bird.

Haven't brought this up yet, but some states have what's called a "state game bird" alongside the actual state bird. Game birds, by the classical and nonscientific definition, are members of the Galliformes and Anseriformes that are associated with hunting and food. And technically...the chicken counts. Yeah, Delaware easily could ratify the Delaware Blue Hen into service as the State Game Bird, which makes even more sense when you consider its role AS A SPORTS MASCOT! See what I mean? But that's not the end of it.

You'll also have to find some way to get the hen recognized as an independent breed. I have NO idea what the process is for that (I guess this is the pathway to do it?), but it's probably gonna take a bunch of breeders and number of years to turn this into a defined breed. Hell, as it stands, not every chicken hatched to a Blue Hen is even blue. So, hey, get on it, Delawarean chicken breeders! Make you state proud!

And that's the information on the candidates for the Delaware State Bird! Will the Delaware maintain its place? Will the Red Knot take it, despite the controversy surrounding the choice? Will my bullshit proposal for the Great Blue Heron actually resonate with some people? Up to Tumblr!

As for the next state, it's time to hop next door to Pennsylvania, and to a State Bird that also technically doesn't exist...for a somewhat different reason. And yes, for the record, I know the below GIF is technically the wrong species, BUT MY CHOICES IN GIFS ARE FEW

See you soon, and happy birding!

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chadillacboseman · 5 months ago

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Pairing: David Loki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of injury, blood, trauma, kidnapping (if you've seen the movie, you know what it's about), mentions of previous arguments/a breakup, a little angst, pivoting entirely into something much sweeter.

Summary: In the wake of the recovery of the Birch and Dover girls and the rescue of Keller, David is put on mandatory leave by CPD. There's only one place he wants to be.

A/N: MY DRAMATIC RETURN TO xREADER!!! Re-watching Prisoners after like 5 years was enough to make me come back after a lengthy hiatus. Everybody say "THANK YOU, JAKE GYLLENHAAL!"

"Take time to recover, Loki," Captain O'Malley looked over the top of a battered file folder, stern gray eyes never wavering as he stared down the detective across the desk from him.

"I can do more here-" David began, indignant; his usually slicked hair had become tousled in his frustration, long black strands hanging haphazardly into his face as he protested.

"I'm not asking, detective."

That was that.

David exited the precinct in a huff, slinging his heavy jacket over his shoulders as his breath came in billowing white clouds against the frigid air. He paused on the front steps, irritation still bubbling just below the surface as he chewed his tongue in contemplation.

His right temple ached where Holly's bullet had struck him, throbbing down into his eye, where a bloodshot ring of ruptured vessels haloed his iris. He brought a hand up to the bandage absentmindedly, tracing the gauze and taking a moment to marvel at the fact that he'd come out from the shootout with his life.

Maybe O'Malley was right. David was in no shape to be on the streets, and the thought of being forced into desk duty made his eye twitch. He sighed heavily as he made his way down the steps and to his car, flinging the door open and dropping into the worn seat before bringing the engine to a whining start.

Muscle memory didn't take him home. Not to his empty house where he'd be left alone with every heavy memory that the Dover and Birch case had put on his shoulders. No, instead it took him to the opposite side of town, to your apartment building, where his car almost seemed to guide itself into a familiar parking space. The headlights cut off with the engine, and he exited into the darkening evening, making his way to the entrance.

David's hand hovered over the call button on the entry system, hesitant, shaking. He swallowed, thickly, then hammered the one next to your unit number, waiting with his breath trapped in his chest. Nervously, he ran his hand through his hair, tucking the unruly strands back to join the others as he stood there.

Inside your apartment, the loud buzzer near your door startled you into nearly dropping the dish you'd been about to place in the dishwasher. You furrowed your brows and glanced at the time on your phone- 6:00PM.

You dried off your hands and made your way to the entry; next to your door, a small red light blinked on top of a plastic speaker. You watched it for a moment, wondering if perhaps someone had hit the wrong number.

BUZZ.

"Hello?" you thumbed the button and waited tentatively.

"It's me."

"David?"

You hadn't seen him in weeks. He'd become so engrossed in the case with the missing girls that it had driven a wedge between the two of you, and you'd half expected to never see him again. When David got invested in a case, you quickly learned that you would always play second fiddle. Things had come to a head when Bob Taylor killed himself while in custody and David had become a man obsessed- angry, out of control, so singularly focused that you'd told him to get out.

He hadn't even argued.

"Can I come up?" his voice was quiet.

You hesitated, tongue trapped between your teeth as you considered your options. You'd seen on the news that the case had had a happy ending- both girls recovered safely, and Keller Dover had been found as well.

"Please?"

You sighed and hit the entry button, already feeling your body tense at the idea of him being back in your apartment after such a volatile ending. His quiet knock jolted you into focus and you slid the chain lock off the rail and turned the deadbolt with a loud click before swinging the door open.

David looked like hell.

The right side of his head was bandaged near the temple, and angry red bruising peppered his forehead and circled his eye, which was so bloodshot that it looked alien. You opened your mouth to comment, but decided against it, instead stepping aside so he could enter.

David winced when his eyes passed over the apartment, remembering the last time he'd set foot inside. The way your eyes had swam with tears as you'd begged him to just take a step back, to listen to you for even a second.

The way you'd begged him to show that he cared.

He turned to look at you, standing just a few feet away, but it felt like miles. Your arms were folded across your chest, fingers flexing on your biceps uncomfortably as you avoided his gaze and stared pointedly at the floor.

David opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come.

For once, it wasn't Detective Loki who stood before you. It was just David- a mortal man, not some larger than life police officer chasing down the bad guys in dark alleyways.

"I'm sorry," he finally spoke, his quiet words falling flat in the tense air of the apartment, "for all of it."

All of it. The late shifts, the yelling, the nights spent sleeping on the couch. The alcohol he'd used to dull the ache of failure any time he chased a dead end lead.

"David-" you sighed and closed your eyes, bringing two fingers to pinch the space between your brows in frustration. It was so incredibly like him to think that he could finish a case and ride that high into coming back to you, waltzing back into your life as if he hadn't left you devastated just weeks before.

"I mean it," he took a hesitant step toward you, his hands flexing at his sides as he tried to stop himself from reaching for you, "please."

His plea felt genuine, warbling around the edges as if he was barely holding it together. You looked up and felt the slightest pang of emotion sear through your chest at the look in his eyes. Whatever had transpired as the case had come to a close had clearly rattled him- his air of confidence and righteous anger was gone, leaving a bruised and bloodied little boy standing in your entryway.

The same little boy who had joined the police force to stop the same people who had hurt him. The little boy who had felt so alone for so long until he met you.

"Please let me fix this."

Your heart wrenched control from your brain at his words, and before you could stop yourself, you crossed the room, closing the distance until you were just inches from him. Slowly, you brought your hand up to cup the uninjured side of his face, running your thumb gently across the stubble that had cropped up on his jaw.

David closed his eyes and a shaky breath passed through his lips as he leaned his head into your touch. Only then did he remember how much he had missed you- the softness of your touch, the way you kept him grounded when everything seemed lost.

The way you loved him, even when he couldn't bear to love himself.

"Forgive me?" David's lips twitched as he opened his eyes to look into yours.

You weren't sure if 'forgive' was the right word for what you were doing, but it was a start. You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing your head to rest against his chest as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

David exhaled, as if it was the first time he'd done it fully since he'd left your apartment all those nights ago. You pulled back enough to look at him and he smiled, his face framed by the dark strands of hair that had fallen from the slicked back style atop his head.

"Captain made me take the rest of the month off," David murmured as he looked down at you, the soft smile still playing at his lips as he spoke.

You raised an eyebrow, shocked that he'd even agreed to take the leave of absence. Maybe he was ready to change for the better.

"And what do you plan to do with all that free time?" you asked playfully, your own smile now widening as his eyes crinkled at the corners, soft gaze still never breaking from yours.

"Make it up to you," David grinned and brought his mouth to yours before you could come up with a clever rebuttal.

In an instant, it was like he'd never stormed out of your apartment that night. All the days of watching the news, waiting for some reporter to announce that Detective David Loki had been killed in a shootout were wiped from the slate as his lips met yours.

David broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours, the tip of his nose just barely brushing against your own as his hands fell so naturally to your waist to keep you close.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too."

#david loki x reader #detective loki x reader #this is rough babes but like i said #jake gyllenhaal #detective loki #david loki

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aimeedaisies · 1 month ago

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The Princess Royal’s Official Engagements in September 2024

01/09 unofficial With Sir Tim Attended a church service at Crathie Kirk. ⛪️🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

10/09 As Colonel-in-Chief, visited The King's Royal Hussars at Aliwal Barracks in Tidworth, Wiltshire. 🪖

Sir Tim represented Princess Anne at a Service of Thanksgiving for Sir Clive Johnstone (National President of the Royal British Legion) which was held at St. Margaret's Church in Westminster, London. 🌹

11/09 Visited Estuary Services Limited and named a Pilot Vessel in Ramsgate Royal Harbour, followed by a Reception at Royal Temple Yacht Club. 🍾🚤

As Patron of the English Rural Housing Association, opened a new development at Carpenters Yard in Shepherdswell near Dover, Kent. 🌳🏠

12/09 As Patron of Citizens Advice Scotland, visited Penicuik Citizens Advice Bureau. ⚖️

As Patron of the International Sheep Dog Society, attended the International Sheep Dog Trials at Syde Farm in Lanarkshire. 🐑🐕

Unofficial Sir Tim attended the launch of the Bradford UK City of Culture 2025 🏙️

13/09 Attended the Southampton International Boat Show. 🚤

As Patron of the National Museum of the Royal Navy, visited the Fleet Air Arm Museum at Royal Naval Air Station Yeovilton in Ilchester, to mark its 60th anniversary. ✈️⚓️

As Patron of Save the Children UK, attended a Concert at Cheap Street Church in Sherborne, to mark 30 years of support from the Cambridge Choral Scholars. 🎶

16/09 As President of Victim Support, visited the Bristol Service at St Werburghs Community Centre, to mark its 50th anniversary. 🤝

As Patron of Gloucestershire Rugby Football Union, attended the Annual Volunteer Awards Reception at Lockleaze Sports Centre in Bristol. 🏉

17/09 As Colonel-in-Chief of The Royal Logistic Corps, visited the Joint Helicopter Support Squadron at A Hangar in Royal Air Force Benson. 🚁

As Patron of the National Transport Trust, attended the Annual Awards Ceremony at Fawley Hill Museum, in Henley-on-Thames. 🏆

As Royal Patron of the National Coastwatch Institution, attended a 30th anniversary reception at the Corporation of Trinity House. 🍾

18/09 As President of the UK Fashion and Textile Association, visited ApparelTASKER Sustainable Garment Manufacturer in London. 👕👖

20/09 As Patron of the Beef Shorthorn Cattle Society, attended a Members' Development Day at Podehole Farm in Thorney. 🐮

21/09 Unofficial With Sir Tim Departed from Kemble Airfield and arrived at Amsterdam Airport Schiphol. ✈️🇳🇱

With Sir Tim Attended a Reception at the Airborne Museum Hartenstein, to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the Battle of Arnhem. 🪂

22/09 With Sir Tim As President of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, attended the Annual Service of Commemoration at Oosterbeek Airborne Cemetery. 🪦🌹

With Sir Tim Visited the house of “the Angel of Arnhem” in Oosterbeek. 🏠👼🏻

Unofficial With Sir Tim, departed from Amsterdam Airport Schiphol and arrived back at Kemble Airfield. ✈️🇬🇧

24/09 As President of the Scotch Chef’s Club, visited Hugh Black and Sons Limited in Stirling. 🥩🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

As Patron of the Royal Highland Education Trust, attended a Food and Farming Day at Solsgirth Home Farm in Dollar. 🎓🚜

As Patron of Opportunity International United Kingdom, held a Dinner at St James’s Palace. 🌍 🍽️

25/09 On behalf of The King, held an Investiture at Windsor Castle in the morning and afternoon.

26/09 As President of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, inaugurated the Loos British Cemetery extension and attended a Reburial Service of Unknown Soldiers. 🇬🇧🇫🇷🪦

Attended a Reception at the Town Hall, Place de la République in Loos-en-Gohelle, France. 🇫🇷🥂

As Patron of Sense International, attended a Dinner at Church House, Westminster, to mark the 30th anniversary of the charity. 🦯🦻🎂

27/09 Opened Hull Trinity House Academy in Hull, East Yorkshire. 🏫

As Patron of the Sailors’ Children’s Society, presented awards at the “Anchor of Celebration” ceremony at Hull Trinity House. 🏆⚓️

As Patron of the Spinal Injuries Association, attended a 50th anniversary reception at SIA House in Milton Keynes. 🦽🎂

30/09 With Sir Tim As Patron of the Minchinhampton Centre for the Elderly, visited Horsfall House, to mark its 30th Anniversary. 🏡🎂

As Colonel-in-Chief of The Royal Logistic Corps, visited the Gurkha Allied Rapid Reaction Corps Support Battalion to mark the redesignation of 170 Headquarters Squadron at Imjin Barracks. 🪖

Total official engagements for Anne in September: 33

2024 total so far: 313

Total official engagements accompanied/represented by Tim in September: 5

2024 total so far: 86

FYl - due to certain royal family members being off ill/in recovery I won't be posting everyone's engagement counts out of respect, I am continuing to count them and release the totals at the end of the year.

#princess anne #princess royal #tim laurence #timothy laurence #september 2024 #unofficial engagement count 2024

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whencyclopedia · 4 days ago

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Tsul'kălû', The Slant-Eyed Giant

Tsul'kălû', The Slant-Eyed Giant is a myth of the Cherokee nation and is among the most popular. The legend relates the story of the great giant, Tsul'kălû', his marriage to a Cherokee maiden, and how the people broke trust with him so that, ever after, he could not be seen, though his presence and power could be felt.

Tanasee Bald, North Carolina

Thomson 200 (Public Domain)

The giant's name, Tsul'kălû', means "he has them slanting", referring to his eyes. He is said to inhabit the top of the Tanasee Bald Mountain in modern-day North Carolina in his home, known as Tsunegûñ′y��. He is the Great Lord of the Game, the spirit invoked prior to and during a hunt, and he is said to assist hunters in tracking their quarry. As a spirit, the giant is invisible, and this is hardly unusual as Native American lore generally, and Cherokee tales specifically, abound with unseen spirits, but this tale explains how Tsul'kălû' came to be invisible and why the people never have, and never will, see him.

In the story, the young woman and her mother live in the village of Kanuga ("gathering place"), roughly, modern-day Hendersonville, North Carolina. The mother lives in the family lodge while her daughter lives in the asi – a wattle and daub house, often referred to as a "winter house", which is sometimes, though not always, smaller and more compact than a lodge. The asi of the Cherokee, historically, had no windows and a hearth in the center, and so it was always smoky and dark. Setting part of the story in an asi lends a comedic aspect to some parts of the tale, as the structure was not big enough to accommodate a giant, much less the giant and his wife, which would have been appreciated by the original audience.

This story – like the Cherokee legend of The Man Who Married the Thunder Sister, the Cherokee Ulunsuti tales, the Wihio tales of the Cheyenne, and the Iktomi tales of the Sioux – emphasizes the importance of paying attention to and following instructions. This concept appears frequently in Native American literature where supernatural entities bestow gifts on those who follow instruction, even if they do not understand the reason, and punish those who cannot do so. Frequently, the transgressor actually punishes himself or herself by failing to simply do as they were told.

Following instructions is a central cultural value of the Native peoples of North America generally, as it has to do with the observance of traditions, rites, and rituals, which need to be performed in a certain way, as they always have been, without deviation or innovation. In the following story, failure to follow instructions results in gifts withheld and the giant rendering himself invisible for all time.

Text

The following text comes from Myths of the Cherokee (1900) by James Mooney, republished by Dover Publications, 2014.

A long time ago a widow lived with her one daughter at the old town of Kănuga on Pigeon River. The girl was of age to marry, and her mother used to talk with her a good deal and tell her she must be sure to take no one but a good hunter for a husband, so that they would have someone to take care of them and would always have plenty of meat in the house. The girl said such a man was hard to find, but her mother advised her not to be in a hurry, and to wait until the right one came.

Now the mother slept in the house while the girl slept outside in the âsĭ. One dark night a stranger came to the âsĭ wanting to court the girl, but she told him her mother would let her marry no one but a good hunter. "Well," said the stranger, "I am a great hunter," so she let him come in, and he stayed all night. Just before day he said he must go back now to his own place, but that he had brought some meat for her mother, and she would find it outside. Then he went away, and the girl had not seen him. When day came, she went out and found there a deer, which she brought into the house to her mother, and told her it was a present from her new sweetheart. Her mother was pleased, and they had deer steaks for breakfast.

He came again the next night, but again went away before daylight, and this time he left two deer outside. The mother was more pleased this time, but said to her daughter, "I wish your sweetheart would bring us some wood." Now wherever he might be, the stranger knew their thoughts, so when he came the next time he said to the girl, "Tell your mother I have brought the wood"; and when she looked out in the morning there were several great trees lying in front of the door, roots and branches and all. The old woman was angry, and said, "He might have brought us some wood that we could use instead of whole trees that we can't split, to litter up the road with brush." The hunter knew what she said, and the next time he came he brought nothing, and when they looked out in the morning the trees were gone and there was no wood at all, so the old woman had to go after some herself.

Almost every night he came to see the girl, and each time he brought a deer or some other game, but still he always left before daylight. At last, her mother said to her, "Your husband always leaves before daylight. Why don't he wait? I want to see what kind of a son-in-law I have." When the girl told this to her husband, he said he could not let the old woman see him, because the sight would frighten her. "She wants to see you, anyhow," said the girl, and began to cry, until at last he had to consent, but warned her that her mother must not say that he looked frightful (usga′sĕʻti′yu).

The next morning, he did not leave so early, but stayed in the âsĭ, and when it was daylight, the girl went out and told her mother. The old woman came and looked in, and there she saw a great giant, with long slanting eyes (tsulʻkălû′), lying doubled up on the floor, with his head against the rafters in the left-hand corner at the back, and his toes scraping the roof in the right-hand corner by the door. She gave only one look and ran back to the house, crying, Usga′sĕʻti′yu! Usga′sĕʻti′yu!

Tsulʻkălû′ was terribly angry. He untwisted himself and came out of the âsĭ, and said good-bye to the girl, telling her that he would never let her mother see him again, but would go back to his own country. Then he went off in the direction of Tsunegûñ′yĭ.

Soon after he left the girl had her monthly period. There was a very great flow of blood, and the mother threw it all into the river. One night after the girl had gone to bed in the âsĭ her husband came again to the door and said to her, "It seems you are alone," and asked where was the child. She said there had been none. Then he asked where was the blood, and she said that her mother had thrown it into the river. She told just where the place was, and he went there and found a small worm in the water. He took it up and carried it back to the âsĭ, and as he walked it took form and began to grow, until, when he reached the âsĭ, it was a baby girl that he was carrying. He gave it to his wife and said, "Your mother does not like me and abuses our child, so come and let us go to my home." The girl wanted to be with her husband, so, after telling her mother good-bye, she took up the child and they went off together to Tsunegûñ′yĭ.

Now, the girl had an older brother, who lived with his own wife in another settlement, and when he heard that his sister was married, he came to pay a visit to her and her new husband, but when he arrived at Kănuga his mother told him his sister had taken her child and gone away with her husband, nobody knew where. He was sorry to see his mother so lonely, so he said he would go after his sister and try to find her and bring her back. It was easy to follow the footprints of the giant, and the young man went along the trail until he came to a place where they had rested, and there were tracks on the ground where a child had been lying and other marks as if a baby had been born there. He went on along the trail and came to another place where they had rested, and there were tracks of a baby crawling about and another lying on the ground. He went on and came to where they had rested again, and there were tracks of a child walking and another crawling about. He went on until he came where they had rested again, and there were tracks of one child running and another walking. Still, he followed the trail along the stream into the mountains and came to the place where they had rested again, and this time there were footprints of two children running all about, and the footprints can still be seen in the rock at that place.

Twice again he found where they had rested, and then the trail led up the slope of Tsunegûñ′yĭ, and he heard the sound of a drum and voices, as if people were dancing inside the mountain. Soon he came to a cave like a doorway in the side of the mountain, but the rock was so steep and smooth that he could not climb up to it but could only just look over the edge and see the heads and shoulders of a great many people dancing inside. He saw his sister dancing among them and called to her to come out. She turned when she heard his voice, and as soon as the drumming stopped for a while, she came out to him, finding no trouble to climb down the rock, and leading her two little children by the hand. She was very glad to meet her brother and talked with him a long time, but did not ask him to come inside, and at last he went away without having seen her husband.

Several other times her brother came to the mountain, but always his sister met him outside, and he could never see her husband. After four years had passed, she came one day to her mother's house and said her husband had been hunting in the woods nearby, and they were getting ready to start home to-morrow, and if her mother and brother would come early in the morning, they could see her husband. If they came too late for that, she said, they would find plenty of meat to take home. She went back into the woods, and the mother ran to tell her son. They came to the place early the next morning, but Tsulʻkălû′ and his family were already gone. On the drying poles they found the bodies of freshly killed deer hanging, as the girl had promised, and there were so many that they went back and told all their friends to come for them, and there were enough for the whole settlement.

Still the brother wanted to see his sister and her husband, so he went again to the mountain, and she came out to meet him. He asked to see her husband, and this time she told him to come inside with her. They went in as through a doorway, and inside he found it like a great townhouse. They seemed to be alone, but his sister called aloud, "He wants to see you," and from the air came a voice, "You cannot see me until you put on a new dress, and then you can see me." "I am willing," said the young man, speaking to the unseen spirit, and from the air came the voice again, "Go back, then, and tell your people that to see me they must go into the townhouse and fast seven days, and in all that time they must not come out from the townhouse or raise the war whoop, and on the seventh day I shall come with new dresses for you to put on so that you can all see me."

The young man went back to Kănuga and told the people. They all wanted to see Tsulʻkălû′, who owned all the game in the mountains, so they went into the townhouse and began the fast. They fasted the first day and the second and every day until the seventh—all but one man from another settlement, who slipped out every night when it was dark to get something to eat and slipped in again when no one was watching. On the morning of the seventh day the sun was just coming up in the east when they heard a great noise like the thunder of rocks rolling down the side of Tsunegûñ′yĭ. They were frightened and drew near together in the townhouse, and no one whispered. Nearer and louder came the sound until it grew into an awful roar, and everyone trembled and held his breath—all but one man, the stranger from the other settlement, who lost his senses from fear and ran out of the townhouse and shouted the war cry.

At once the roar stopped and for some time there was silence. Then they heard it again, but as if it were going farther away, and then farther and farther, until at last it died away in the direction of Tsunegûñ′yĭ, and then all was still again. The people came out from the townhouse, but there was silence, and they could see nothing but what had been seven days before.

Still the brother was not disheartened, but came again to see his sister, and she brought him into the mountain. He asked why Tsulʻkâlû′ had not brought the new dresses, as he had promised, and the voice from the air said, "I came with them, but you did not obey my word, but broke the fast and raised the war cry." The young man answered, "It was not done by our people, but by a stranger. If you will come again, we will surely do as you say." But the voice answered, "Now you can never see me." Then the young man could not say any more, and he went back to Kănuga.

#History #Cherokee

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whatyadrawin · 11 months ago

Text

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -Chapter 3-

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 2,682 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt(HeadCanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Strong language, use of derogatory terms, sexually suggestive language.

A/n: Two drawings took me so long, I feel very pathetic and unproductive but I am so happy to get the ball rolling. I can't wait to illustrate and submit chapter 4 because oooooh lord Tommy boy gon look good in it. I am also so excited to get writing the next few chapters, I have the fire in me and I don't want it to go out until I get a bunch of writing done lol. Please check the masterlist linked above for updates on progress.

Tag list: @fan-goddess

Chapter 3

The day begins with the sounds of birds happily chirping in the tree shading your backyard; a gentle breeze is washing over the land, cooling the heat away from the ground. You feel good today and decide it’s time for a cute yet practical outfit, so you grab some jean shorts, and a bright yellow tank top with a reliable pair of boots, you were ready to get things done. After eating some oatmeal purchased from Luda Mae’s store, you get your things ready to go drive to the next town and do some serious food shopping.

The car is packed with some water and a snack or two, but before you hit the road you take a trip down to see Dover the farmhand to try and appease him one more time. The morning seems to be the best time to catch him, and you can see him watching TV through a window so you knock on the door gently and hear a groan, he answers the door and when he sees you, he rolls his eyes and says rudely,

“Whadya want?”

You put on a sincere smile and reply “Good morning, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?”

“Ya interrupted my peace, now what the hell d’ya want?” his tone is aggressive, but you continue,

“I just thought I might interest you in some new stuff for your home? I know you like how things are but I wanted to see if I could make it more comfortable, like a new T.V, or a new bed or whatever else.”

He throws his head back and sighs “Ya just don’ get it do ya? I don’ want yer fancy shit from the city, I don’ need nothin’ other’an this here orchard n’some peace! Why don’t ya just go play dress up with the Hewitts again, see if their retard son will play tea party with ya”

He slams the door on you. You feel sick with anger and knock again, this time more loudly.

Dover opens the door and screams “The fuck is yer problem?”

You try to keep your cool as you reply through gritted teeth “Why are you so mean to me? What did I ever do to you other than be kind and offer you help or nice things! You don’t even know my name!”

Dover’s eyebrows furl into and angry frown “This here land belongs t’me, stupid little girl. I worked fer years under that bitch Tilly, and the fact that she left everythin’ to some no-good kid who don’ deserve it, makes my skin crawl. If I had my way, this place’d be mine”

You look visibly confused “What is that supposed to mean?”

He then pauses and gets all flustered “Nothin’, nothin’ at all. You just let me do everythin’ here, soon ya gon’ realize ya don’t belong here and leave, if ya know what’s good fer ya. Now never come back to this house ever again or I’ll give ya somethin’ to cry ‘bout”

He slams the door again and you are shaking with rage, your eyes begin to well up with tears as you walk away back to your car. You set out on the drive to the next town and it feels like it lasts forever, the road is straight and flat, and the surroundings are just large swathes of yellow grass and wheat rushing past you as you speed up to shorten the distance. The sky is cloudless and the sun is blaring down on you causing your eyelids to weigh down, you decide to put on a playlist that only has bangers to energize you. Eventually you see the welcome sign for the next town and feel a sigh of relief.

The town is small but you are able to spot a large Costco in the distance -Oh hell yeah, I can really stock up now-. You find a parking spot close to the door and as you walk in you get blasted by the air conditioning which feels so nice after that long, hot drive. You take your time through the aisles grabbing as many bulk items as you can, finding preserved goods that won’t immediately go bad, and some produce that would be able to last a little longer than others. Once your cart is fully maxed out with goods you head to the cashier who looks at you funny due to the number of things you are buying. They greet you,

“Hi Ma’am, all this for you?”

You smile, feeling a bit embarrassed “Yeah, I don’t live nearby any stores, just stocking up.”

They smile back “Oh yeah? Where ya comin’ from?”

You reply “Fuller”

The cashier squints her eyes in curiosity “Fuller? Where’s that at?”

You are a little surprised by their response, but with how desolate the town is their response makes sense, you say,

“It’s a... um, well…a dead town near the Oklahoma border”

They tilt their head as they scan your Costco card “Must be real dead if I ain’t never heard of it.”

“Yeah, it is” you give a little chuckle and they continue,

“Well, alright then, I’ll get yer stuff boxed here and you can be back on yer way to the dead town.”

You finish paying and thank the cashier, then you start wheeling your cart back to the car when a very old man approaches you.

“You came from Fuller?” he says

You reply “Yeah, do you know it?”

He pauses, then says “I know it. That town used to have a lot people go missing after the businesses left. Why’re you out there?”

“I inherited an orchard” you say quietly

He places his hand on his chin “Oh? So, there’s still somethin’ left huh. Be careful ma’am, that town ain’t safe from what I know. The people ain’t right, if there’s any people left.”

You feel extremely confused “Ok, uh, thanks?”

You open the trunk and fill it with the bags wondering what he could possibly mean by people going missing, and the citizens being not right.

The drive back felt a lot faster; you were running what that old man had said through your head, -he must be talking about Dover, or maybe some urban legend-. You have experienced gossip and falsehoods about your own town back home before, so it didn’t seem so absurd to have a random stranger tell you something odd. You arrive back at the house by 1pm, happy to have been so productive today, you begin to unload the car and get everything into the house.

All the groceries get put away and you decide to start baking a batch of chocolate chip muffins for the Hewitts since they have been nothing but nice to you, and it’s the first time in a long while where you feel comfortable around other people; you are hopeful of making new long-term friends with the Hewitts. You bake 24 muffins since you assume that Tommy likely eats a lot and maybe hasn’t had a baked pastry in a while. When the muffins are done baking you take them out of the oven and put them in the little basket you brought the fruit over in, you cover the muffins with a cheesecloth and make your way over.

You walk up the driveway and look to the barn but don’t see Tommy there, just a group of chickens clucking around. You knock on the door which gets answered by Charlie who says,

“Well, well, well, what we got here? Bringin’ us somethin’ good sweetheart?”

You blush and reply “Yeah, I baked some muffins for all of you”

“Well, ain’t you sweet. Come in girlie, Luda’s gonna wanna say hi” he waves you in

You didn’t like how he stared at you but he seemed mostly harmless, he calls out into the house

“Luda! The neighbor girl is here!”

Luda Mae comes out from the kitchen drying her hands with a towel “Oh hi dear! What a welcome surprise to see you. What brings you by?”

You smile, Luda Mae is such a welcoming and kind person, you say “I baked some muffins for everyone, as a thank you for inviting me over the other day, and kindness you have all shown me”

“That is so thoughtful of you! I hope you know you’re welcome to come by anytime dear, you don’t need to bring gifts every visit, your company is enough” she says sincerely.

You feel very accepted among this strange small-town family you say “It was no big deal really, I went to the next town over to get groceries and picked up some ingredients to make sweet things to share”

Luda Mae tilts her head and smiles indicating how impressed she is by your kindness and generosity, she follows with “Well Tommy will just love these, I guess you must’ve known that he doesn’t get to eat baked goods often”

She calls out for him to come upstairs and you immediately get butterflies in your stomach, they make you feel nauseous and excited. You hear heavy, thudding footsteps and the house gently rattles as Tommy makes his way up to the living room from what you assume is the basement. He stops in his tracks the second he looks up and sees you; his eyes were shrouded in shadow from his hair and thick brows but despite the darkness, the brilliant blue looking back at you was vivid and bright; his long hair was roughly tousled and draped down to the nape of his neck in curly dark brown tendrils.

You finally got to see him even closer and you lose your breath with just how incredibly huge this giant of a man is compared to your own height, his chest is so wide it would enshroud your entire body if you hid behind it, his thick pectorals heaving with every breath under his worn-down short sleeve blouse. His legs were massive and covered by a pair of very worn and dirty jeans, they were hanging onto by a worn belt that had a large belt buckle, oxidized by time. You immediately felt a tinge of ancient animal fear from the obvious difference in power his body displayed, he could kill you in seconds if he wanted to but beneath his brutish exterior you could sense there was someone worth taking a chance on.

You wished to be able to see the rest of his face but it was hidden behind a dark leathery mask which was tactfully sewn together, there was only a small slit near his mouth for air to pass through, you wondered what he was hiding if he was already this impressive.

Luda Mae sighs and says,

“Thomas, don’t be shy, Y/N brought us some sweets, say thank you”

He holds his stare on you, he had never seen someone as breathtaking as yourself and your clothes did nothing to hide your robust, curvaceous figure, you didn’t look like someone who could easily break if he were to touch you but your height was barely a third of his own. He couldn’t help but find you simultaneously gorgeous and cute which was a perplexing and new feeling he welcomed. He suddenly snaps out of his trance when Luda Mae clears her throat, he then nods slowly as he shifts his eye contact from you and turns to leave quickly back down the stairs.

Luda Mae shakes her head “Excuse him, he takes a bit to warm up to people he likes”

“What about the people he doesn’t like?” You shocked yourself with your comment, it seemed to have just come out against your will.

Luda Mae looks at the floor and clenches the towel “Oh… haha well, don’t worry yourself about that hun. He likes you; one can tell that plain from the way he’s behavin’ ”

You let out a giggle and try to hide from the heat building up in your cheeks, Luda Mae notices this and smiles, Charlie sees this too and rudely barks in,

“Good thing y’got a crush on him because the people who don’t like him? Well, Girlie, you don’t wanna be them.”

Luda Mae drops her smile and snaps “YOU HUSH UP RIGHT THIS SECOND! THOMAS AIN’T DONE NOTHING WRONG!”

Charlie just laughs and wanders off, Luda Mae looks at you and says,

“I’m so sorry ‘bout him dear, he’s got such bad manners, does whatever he wants.” She places her hands on her hips and squints in the direction Charlie wandered off.

You reply “It’s alright. You know, Thomas seems to not want to be around me every time I come here. I hope I am not seeming like an intrusion to him.”

Luda Mae gets a worried look and says “Oh sweetheart, as his mama I can tell you with full certainty that he likes when you come over. He asked about you the other day, wondering who you are”

You try to suppress the smile forming on your lips, “I didn’t know he spoke. I would love to get to know him better” for some reason you kept saying bold statements despite your mind protesting the revealing honesty.

Luda Mae smiles at you “He speaks to the people he feels comfortable with, so far that’s only been me and sometimes Charlie. I think you may have to make an effort with Thomas dear, he is going to be like taming a wild animal, so you have your work cut out for you”

You continue a bit of small talk about the town you visited and then take your leave back down the drive way to home. The walk back makes you think of so many scenarios in which you would be able to speak with Tommy, he seemed like he would have a lot to say. The prospect of making Tommy trust you and having such a unique friend was overstimulating and got you so excited that you didn’t notice Dover come out of the bushes next to you, making you jump from being startled. He gives you a dirty look and says,

“Seems like yer makin’ friends with them Hewitt folk. What a stupid girl ya are. You know their sons a violent sort dontcha?”

You have had enough of Dover and his cruelty, you reply,

“I thought you wanted to be left alone? Besides, Thomas is really shy, he doesn’t seem violent”

Dover laughs “Ya really are dumber’n ya look! That retard would string ya up and eat ya alive if you don’t get the hell outta here”

You stop walking and face Dover “Why are you telling me this? It seems like you don’t care if I live or die so what would it matter to you if he DID eat me alive?”

He stops and looks at you “I DON’T CARE IF YA GET BURNED ALIVE!”

You stare at him, saying nothing, and he awkwardly looks around, expecting you to get mad, he follows

“Ya like that fool dontcha? Yer fixin’ to have him split yer birthin’ bits in two huh?”

You sneer at the crass statement “What is wrong with you? If you don’t need anything from me then please just go find the peace you claim to want, and let me live my life”

You continue walking away and he yells back after you “Those fuckers ate people ya know! Next theyr’ gon’ eat YOU! Have fun fuckin’ a cannibal man, ya dummy!”

You keep walking and make your way to the front door of your home, the words said to you by Dover were heinous but they did make you think, -He might be right, Luda Mae and her family say some really weird things a lot and seem to change the subject when things get too suspicious. At this point, I don’t care anymore… this is my only chance to have a normal life and have friends, maybe even family. I’m going to continue Tilly’s legacy, if not for her… then for all the people who seem to actually care about me-

Next chapter-

#what ya writin #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #slasher community #thomas hewitt x afab reader #leatherface 2006 #texas chainsaw massacre #my art #the fruit after the flesh

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shiptalia-sea-of-stars · 11 days ago

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Halloween Special: Ships as Monsters

Ameripan - Yurei; a Japanese yokai akin to the western concept of ghosts. They're described with having long disheveled black hair, a burial kimono (usually white), and hands and legs dangling freely. There are different types of yurei, Ameripan in this case is a vengeful Yurei.

RusAme - Alien; The existence of Aliens still remains a mystery worldwide. There had been many different variations of what they may look like as well as the concept of different alien species. Here I've combined the appearances of a typical grey alien with "Green Men" as well as putting my own interpretations. It is unknown what planet he's from...

INTERGALACTIC PLANETARY, PLANETARY, INTERGAL-

USUK - Werewolf; All should be weary on a full-moon night, for it is said that werewolves emerge from their daytime hideaway to hunt. I wanted to make a reference to *An American Werewolf in London* but couldn't really come up with anything specific. Since its USUK, I think its a nice little call back.

North FRUK - The Drowned; Based on a true story. An Englishwoman was accused of witchcraft, so she had managed to escape to the town of Dover. She snuck onto a boat that was heading to France. However, much to her misfortune, the sailors on board found out about her being a witch. They tied her to a wooden log where she was thrown into the English Channel, drowning.

It is rumored that she died on the 8th of April, and every year she would grab sailors by the ankles and drown them. She could be seen on both sides of the channel.

South FRUK -Vampire; Once a day wanderer turned into a nocturnal shut-in. The urban legend of vampires go as far back as... who knows when. They'll avoid any sunlight, crosses, silver, garlic, and the forbidden wooden stake. He must feed on blood to survive, though he's scared of himself more than people are scared of him.

ItaPan - Balischo; forgive me for spelling it wrong. An Italian beast like creature with goat skin wanders in the woods that reside on the outskirts of a small village. It is unknown how they came to existence, but their folklore is one of many continued to be passed down onto generations. Are they a friend or a foe?

FraIta - "Thrones" Angel; Angels have often been depicted as human-like creatures with huge wings that are pure as white. Although the Bible describes them basically as two giant floating rings with eyeballs with many sets of wings. I figured combining both would make it lowkey creepy. I forgot the halo, just pretend she has one.

PruAus - Salem Witch; In Salem, Massachusetts; the year 1692, mass hysteria spread throughout the town under the suspicion that everyone around them was a witch. All were innocent; those who were tried for their "sins" were stoned to death or casted to the gallows to be hung. Some were lucky enough to survive being imprisoned awaiting trial. One survived their fate at the gallows.... Gertrude.

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menonlywrestling · 7 months ago

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Sailor Pro wrestlers Part 1

Sailors who's ships had docked for a while, would often seek out local pro wrestling venues to compete in matches for some extra cash, and to let off some steam. Audiences always knew that if there was a sailor on that days bill, they were in for some proper real pro action. These guys were often skilled technical wrestlers and hard as nails, and could dish out and withstand some serious punishment. Sailor v Sailor singles and tag matches were often wild. Promoters, knowing these guys needed the money, would often set match rules as KO or first blood only wins.

Top image - Portsmouth UK 1972. A Sailor from the UK and a Sailor from Spain pose for a photo before their bout, in the ring in the back room of a local pub.

Middle image - Dover 1980. Polish Sailor Tag Team pose for a photo before their tag match, in the ring in the back room of a local pub.

Bottom image - Southampton 1967. Photo from a local newspaper article about a wrestling event that took place in the town the previous week. Pictured before their bout are an Irish Sailor and an Egyptian Sailor. The newspaper reported that their match was an incredible technical but violent display that lasted over an hour. The Irish Sailor eventually won the bout by KO, with "a particularly brutal, long held head scissors".

#beefy muscle #gay wrestling #pro wrestling #vintage pro wrestling #beefy daddy #big beefy bears #gay bear

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emma-frxst · 1 year ago

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The Implicit Demand for Proof (15. End)

Series masterlist

Pairing: Detective David Loki x reader

Summary: you, a forensic psychologist, get called in on a high priority child abduction case in Conyers, PA. What happens when you catch feelings for the mysterious detective Loki?

Warnings: spoilers for the movie, movie level violence, slight change of events, language.

Sad this series has come to an end but it’s about damn time lol! I enjoyed it and I hope y’all did too! It’s the end..But fret not dear friends!! If you love our fave detective and forensic psychologist!Reader, I’m going to be writing a continuation of this series! My new fic Choking on Circumstances will be out soon! Check my masterlist for more deets! (Saying deets like I’m in the mid 2000s) if you want more Loki content feel free to send me a request and check my masterlist!

Reblogs and comments help me the most! Let me know your thoughts, even if it’s only a keysmash. Let me know if you want or off the tag list. Thanks for reading, commenting, and supporting me!

Tags: loki only tags: @spideyrights @sataninsatin @go-commander-kim @severuined @romancries @eclecticfashionbookszipper @fagen @sizzlingcloudmentality @mottergirl99 @ @1ivinqdeadqir1main @new-romanticz1989 @kittycat-kisses @in2meijasworld 2@diegos-sad-chick @sharp-cheekbones-locked @ochoaslvr @captgrim @buck-this-nasty @shycollectionwolfstuff @in2meijasworld

(Also tagging some others just this once who’ve commented/ liked/ reblogged this series to let you know it’s complete for real this time! Let me know if you want to still be tagged for Loki stuff!)

After checking for Keller Dover everywhere- his house, the liquor stores, the church the family attended, and the creepy small town survival gear store- he was no where to be found. You even showed people his picture and asked if they’d seen him, but no luck.

Where in the hell else could he have been??

Ugh

Poor Alex Jones..Can’t believe Keller would do that to him- Wait.

A sick feeling came over you, the kind of feeling you got when looking a murderer in the eyes, or when you get a confession in the interrogation room from someone you know is guilty. That feeling.

Maybe Dover was having a PTSD episode, a psychotic break, or worse, a murderous rampage- His missing daughter driving him to the brink of insanity. He always blamed Alex for the girl’s disappearance, but now that he was done with Alex, maybe he got it in his mind to go after Holly Jones next.

Now knowing what Keller was capable of, you jumped in the car and drive out to the Jones’ residence. You didn’t want Holly to end up like her son.

You called Loki, seeing if he would meet you at the Jones’s place. Better to have a partner in these types of situations.

It rang and rang until it went to voicemail.

Weird.

He usually picked up on the first couple of rings.

That’s okay though. You’d just go by yourself, proceeding with extra caution.

You never thought more of Keller Dover than a concerned parent, in light of recent events, maybe Loki’s obsession with the man wasn’t completely unfounded.

As you headed to the Jones residence, that sick feeling only grew. Nagging at you from the inside.

You tired to call Loki again.

No answer.

Your next step was to call O’Malley, maybe he knew why Loki wasn’t answering.

“O’Malley.” He answered quickly.

“Have you heard from Loki recently?”

“I sent him to notify Holly Jones about Alex about, oh-“ he paused. “A little bit ago.”

Your stomach dropped, your mind automatically assumed the worst. Not that David couldn’t handle himself, but that you tended to worry.

“Why, is everything alright?” He asked,

“I can’t reach Loki, phones going to voicemail. I’ve been searching for Keller Dover, I thought Dover might’ve gone for Holly or something. I’m gonna go over there and check.”

“Let me know if I need to send a unit over.”

“Thanks captain.”

You decided to hightail it to the Jones’ residence. Safely of course, the unfamiliar Pennsylvania roads combined with the darkness and the sleet made driving difficult.

As you were driving, your mind was on Loki. Of course you were thinking about Anna, but in the back of your mind was the earlier unfinished conversation between you and Loki. All the ‘what if’ scenarios swirled around in your brain. What did he want to talk to you about? It was killing you. You thought there was a chance Loki liked you, but he was hard to read. At this point there’s no denying your crush on the man. You didn’t know how much longer you’d be in Conyers, maybe you should rack up the courage to make a move.

The tiniest bit of flashing blue light caught your attention from down the road.

The lights looked like they were heading towards you.

They were.

They were police lights.

But they weren’t big lights that sat on top like a squad car, no. They were the kind like on a detective’s car.

The car was going fast; recklessly so.

Erratic and urgent.

Before you could get a good look at it, the car zoomed past you, barely giving you time to think.

That wasn’t Loki’s car, was it?

The little bit of it you saw, it did look like it. The pitch black of the Pennsylvania back country made it particularly difficult to see.

You pulled out your phone to call him again.

When it went straight to voicemail, you knew you couldn’t ignore your gut feeling any longer.

Fuck it.

You whipped the car around to follow the other car. It was so far ahead you couldn’t catch up, the faint blue lights your only guide.

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you followed who you were now sure was Loki.

Where are you going in such a hurry, Loki? And why? Why won’t you call me back?

You went ahead and called O’Malley and had him send a unit out to the Jones’ residence. But that was really all you could do, besides hope and pray everything was alright.

Loki barged into the ER with a limp Anna Dover in his arms.

His desperate cries for help rang throughout the hospital, demanding the attention of the doctors and pulling the heartstrings of all who were near.

Once she was safely in the hands of the doctors and his adrenaline wore off, he felt white hot heat radiating from his head.

His was vision blurry from the blood in his eyes, or maybe it was from the pain.

The pain.

The fucking pain.

It was a burning, stinging pain that hit him like a ton of bricks.

There was a sharp ringing that invaded his eardrums and he suddenly felt lightheaded, but he needed to stay awake..he needed to move his car from the ER entrance and needed to tell the captain what happened and needed to make sure Anna was okay, and needed (y/n) to..(y/n).. (y/n).

The last thing he remembered was mumbling something to the nurse before his vision faded to black.

You shifted in your seat and the old chair creaked under your weight. The nurse had offered to bring in a extra bed for you, but you declined, not wanting to take away form someone who really needed it.

But your ass going numb convinced you that you should’ve at least asked for a better chair.

Loki had been moved out of the ER and into a room for observation.

He laid there all bandaged up, sleeping..well he was unconscious, but saying he was sleeping made you feel better.

Loki wasn’t one of those people who looked peaceful when he slept, his permanent scowl still ingrained on his face.

That beautiful, pouty scowl.

Staring at Loki, you felt a tinge of guilt in your bones. You should’ve figured out it was Holly Jones all along, maybe you could’ve been there with Loki and things would’ve turned out differently.

The forensics team was able to speculate what happened based on the crime scene and, upon further digging, found evidence of dozens of child abductions.

Loki could’ve died. If the bullet went just a few inches over, it would’ve been a whole different story.

You quickly shook the thought form your head, he was here and he was okay. Joy and Anna were alive. Although it was almost a happy ending, it definitely wasn’t the ending to this case you expected.

You pulled the car to a screeching halt outside the ER entrance, Loki’s car still sitting outside. Lights on and doors open.

Shit shit shit

You barged in the doors, making a beeline for the front desk, but the commotion of doctors working on a dark haired man caught your eye.

Your stomach dropped.

Loki

He wasn’t conscious.

There was so much blood all over his face.

You closed the distance between you and them in two seconds flat.

“Is he okay?! Whats going on?!” You pleaded with the doctor to let you know something.

“A gunshot wound to the head, just passed out on us.”

A gunshot wound. To the head.

“Is he going to be okay?!” You asked, panicked.

“It only grazed him. We will keep you updated. Now, Ma’am step back please, let us work.”

You stepped back from the medical staff surrounding the detective, giving them their space.

“Please be ok Loki, please” you whispered.

You felt like the air had been knocked out of you. He can’t die, not like this.

You stood there in a daze, watching the doctor and nurses buzz around Loki. You lifted a trembling hand to brush the hair from your face and noticed how clammy your hands were. Suddenly, you were aware of a tightness in your chest and tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

A panic attack.

You tried to force your feet to carry you outside, the cold air would be good to dissolve your panic, but they felt like they were glued to the floor.

When your patients were in crisis you reminded them to do things that were in their control.

Maybe you should take your own advice.

Forcing your brain back into work mode, You turned to go move the cars from the ER entrance and take care of things, but you stopped dead in your tracks noticing the little girl two beds down from Loki.

Anna.

“Are you sure about the bed?” The nurse asked as she came in to check on the detective.

“Yeah I’m sure, thank you though.”

“If you change your mind let me know.”

“Thanks.” You replied, thankful for her kindness and her gentleness with David.

She’s nice.

“So how long have you all been together?” She asked, her innocent effort to make small talk turning awkward quickly.

“Oh we’re not…uh..” you stuttered, feeling your cheeks flush

“Oh I’m sorry, I just thought since he asked for you..that..well you know...” She said, giving you a small smile.

“He asked for me?”

“Yeah. Last thing he said before he passed out.”

You couldn’t help the grin that plastered itself onto your face and those pesky butterflies that formed in your gut.

2:14 AM.

David stirred from his slumber, a groan escaping his lips. He cracked an eye open, the harsh hospital lights making him cringe.

Hey! He was alive!

He still had ten working fingers and toes. Arms and legs still worked. He was alive and intact, thankful he was in one piece. It was a real miracle he avoided a car crash on the way here.

His fingers brushed over bandages on his injury. In the back of his mind, David knew he’d end up with a massive headache, but every beat of his heart sending pain to his wound was a little much for him. He looked around for the call nurse button. His heart skipped a beat when he looked to his left.

“(Y/n)” he whispered. There she was asleep in the hospital chair. That familiar fuzzy feeling flooded his chest at full force. What was she doing here? How did she know he was here?

He chuckled slightly at the sight of her. How she was able to sleep in such a cramped position, he didn’t know, and how she was able to look so adorable doing so was also a mystery.

(Y/n) was only a moment’s distraction before the throbbing pain returned to his head, he smashed the call nurse button, the commotion awaking (y/n).

Startled, she shot straight up out of the chair. In the few seconds it took her to recognize that it was indeed Loki who pushed the call button and not that he was dying or some other medical emergency, her eyes grew wide and her smile widened.

“You’re awake!” You exclaimed.

“(Y/n), it was Holly!” Loki said, trying to sit up, a groan escaping his lips as he did so. “Where’s Anna? Did she make it? You gotta get the CSU out to the Jones’ right now- she shot me-“

“Loki everything’s okay!” You assured him as you scurried to his bedside, gently grabbing his shoulders and making him lay back down.

Classic Loki, mind always on the case even when he’s laying in the hospital.

“Anna made it, she’s gonna recover. I already took care of everything.” You said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You did? How did you-“

“You need to rest.” You interrupted him, smoothing out his blanket, your fingers brushed his- only for a moment.

In that moment, your eyes locked and only then did David truly take a deep breath to calm down.

“How did you know?” He asked.

“I didn’t” you explained. “I was searching for Dover and was worried he’d gone to Holly to do what he did to Alex. I passed you on the way and followed your car back here. The scene has been processed and everything. We can get your statement in the morning, Loki.”

David breathed out a heavy sigh of relief

“Thanks, (l/n) You’re the best.”

“Thanks.” You said softly, unable to hide your blushing at Loki’s compliment.

“Just tell me what happened.”

Before the two of you could exchange any more words, the nurse came scurrying in to the room.

She upped his morphine dosage and cleaned his bandage, then made sure the two of you comfortable. Once again you praised the heavens for her kindness.

Once she left, David went into detail about what happened.

You listened intently, hanging on to his every word.

When he finished, you dropped the eye contact you and David were holding.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve figured out that it was Holly Jones sooner, maybe you wouldn’t gotten hurt and-“

“Hey-hey. it’s not your fault.” he said gently, reaching out to take your hand.

Maybe it was the morphine or the near death experience, but either way David was feeling bold.

Your heart could’ve stopped in that moment, was now a good time to confess your feelings? Should you?

You opted to offer him a small smile instead, you figured he’d been through enough tonight.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” You told him.

David caressed the back of your knuckles with his thumb sending pleasant chills through you.

“Me too.” He replied.

“So do you need anything? Anything I can do?” You offered.

“I keep a emergency bag in my desk-“

“Got it!” You enthusiastically hopped up, ready to help in any way you could, but David didn’t let go of your hand.

“Wait! Don’t leave. Please.” You stopped in your tracks, glad he wanted you to stay.

“Let O’Malley bring my bag. Please stay.” David begged, those sad blue eyes got you, but he didn’t have to beg. You’d do anything he asked of you.

You sat back down on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you.” He said, his eyes growing heavy.

“Get some rest ok? I’ll be right here.” You said, smoothing his blanket out once again. When you got up to sit back in the chair, you could feel David’s eyes on you.

“What?” You inquired.

“Nothin’.” He murmured, only flashing you a small smile.

You flicked the overhead light off so you could both rest.

You’d definitely tell him how you felt in the morning.

David’s eyes lingered on (y/n) as she got up to turn off the light. He should’ve told her how he felt right then.

“What?” She questioned, catching him staring.

David hesitated.

Just tell her, David. Come on.

“Nothin’.” He responded with a tired voice and heavy eyes. He dropped the conversation, opting to let her rest. They’d been through enough tonight. They’d talk in the morning.

You made a trip to the cafeteria for breakfast while David showered and changed clothes.

“Hey, hey, look at you, all clean and such.” You praised Loki, coming into the room with coffee and bagels.

David chuckled at your remarks.

“Thanks. Hey, look at this-“

You sat on the bed next to David, leaning in to see the paper.

Barry Milland AKA Alex Jones reunited with family after 26 years

“Poor Barry.” You mumbled.

Lokis eyes stayed glued to the paper, but yours wandered up to his wound.

He looked a lot better this morning and was doing much better.

“It’s rude to stare you know.” Loki teased, cracking a sly smile.

“Yeah, well, you look like shit.” You teased back, a cheesy grin plastered itself across your face.

You tried to hold in your amusement as Loki gave you a funny look, but couldn’t help it as giggles escaped your lips.

Then, Loki started laughing too.

It was a good laugh. A real one.

After laughing too long at your own joke, you looked over at David, only to find him already looking at you.

Loki’s expression was soft, his usual scowl nowhere to be found.

“What?” You questioned.

Loki, seemingly mesmerized by you, was at a loss for words. His brain? Total mush.

You noticed his eyes moving between your eyes and lips, searching for a sign.

You leaned in, closing the gap between you and the detective- Loki’s sign that yes you wanted this. You wanted this since the moment you laid eyes on him. Finally.

Your lips connected oh so gently but in a way that sent sparks down your spine. The kiss was soft and-

“Detective Loki? Agent (l/n)?”

The two of you pulled apart quickly

There was Grace, Anna, Joy and Nancy all standing at the door.

Loki cleared his throat and you both tired to act like she didn’t interrupt.

“I hope we’re not intruding.”

Loki shook his head and mumbled “no” even though they obviously were. But you knew it’s be good for him to see the girls.

It particularly warmed your heart hearing her refer to Loki as a hero.

They continued talked for a minute, well, Grace Keller did, Loki was a man of few words. You had the thought to weigh in, but you couldn’t concentrate, those damn butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults.

“Thank you two, for everything.”

Grace said and turned to leave, but stopped at the door, breaking down in tears. She tried convincing you and Loki Keller was a good man, but you and Loki exchanged knowing looks.

Not prepared to face the awkwardness of the situation, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the detective after she left.

Lucky for you, Loki suddenly grabbed your chin, tilting your head towards him and his lips captured yours in a hungry and needy kiss.

A stark contrast to your kiss a minute prior, fire burned through your chest as your lips moved in sync with David’s.

Loki moved his hand to cup your cheek and you absolutely melted into his touch.

You broke apart from David, breathless and with a smile on your face.

“Sorry I didn’t do that sooner.” David said, his thumb stroking your cheekbone,

“Yeah me too.” You replied, still high from the bliss of your first kiss with the handsome detective.

“Look, (l/n), I uh-“

“Hey..Call me (f/n)” you interrupted, sad that David removed his hand from your cheek.

“Okay, (f/n),” he said. “I’m uh not too good with feelings and shit, but I uh, I really like you.”

“I like you too.” You gushed.

Davids eyes lit up, almost like a kid on Christmas.

“You do?” He questioned.

“Yes David, I do.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “And that kiss told me all I needed to know.”

David blushed.

David Loki blushing, you didn’t think such a thing could happen.

“Glad you enjoyed it.” He said, a smug smile replacing his blushing cheeks.

Your turn to blush.

“How do you uh, feel about long distance? I mean I’ve never done it before- but I’d be down to..you know.

“Me neither, but I think we make a pretty good team, so I think we can make it work.”

Yes!! He wanted to make this work. Now the butterflies in your belly weren’t just doing somersaults, it was more like the butterfly Olympics down there.

“Yeah?” He questioned, giddy like a child.

“Yeah.” You assured him, giving his arm a squeeze.

The day shift nurse came in to finally discharge David. She sent him home with a dozen care info papers and aftercare instructions, none of which David was likely to read or follow through with.

“Let’s get you home.” You said. “At least for a bit.” You knew Loki would not stop searching for Keller Dover. He was determined, you’d give him that. You also weren’t gonna let Loki drive home by himself after being shot in the head, even though he insisted he was fine.

“Yeah. Home.” He agreed.

David’s thoughts began to race while you began to gather your things.

Loki was hopeful, for the first time in a long time. He had a feeling that, eventually, home would be wherever (y/n) was.

END.

#detective loki #detective loki x reader #David loki x reader #David loki imagine #detective loki imagine #prisoners 2013 #David Loki #mine #kacceywrites #TIDFP

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