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revengeworld · 4 years ago

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Meat IV

Werewolf! Flip x Reader - Medieval AU

Word Count: +2.700

Warnings: Mentionings of Blood, Fighting between wolves, dead animal

AN: This will be a six Part series. It has nothing to do with the movie and is a complete medieval AU with it’s own lore about werewolfs. I thought it might be an interesting turn on it :>

MY MASTERLIST ♥

Dragging a huge elk behind him, Flip hoped that it would be enough to feed eleven always hungry pups for a few days. Otherwise, he could ask Y/N to stretch the rations with her wonderful cooking skills.

At least it had stopped raining, he thought to himself while coming closer to the hole in the ground.

Kneeling down next to it he was readying himself to jump down until he noticed the small group that was resting on one of their blankets.

Y/N still had the youngest on her arm, while she had the kettle with a stew in her other hand and two of the older pups helped her safely to the blanket.

After serving everyone a bowl of stew, the pups started to ask her the questions that were lingering on their tongues until one of the older boys noticed Flip sitting on the entrance to the cave.

“Aunty Y/N? Do you like Uncle Flip??” he called loudly over the other questions.

“By the Moon, I’m soooo gonna kill these pests...” Flip already started to growl.

“Mhmm, yeah I would say I do.” Y/N spoke honestly while carefully cutting some of the bread they still had leftover and shared it with the pups.

Not wanting to believe his own ears, the beast quickly shook his head and leaned forwards to listen more closely.

“Of course she likes Uncle Flip!” one of the girls chimed in.“They are married after all.”

Stopping mid-motion, Y/N turned her head in the direction of the girl.

“Married?”

“Yeah! His sigil is carved on you, which means you are his mate and that you’re married, right?” another pup explained.

“Is it nice to be married?” one of the other girls asked and leaned against Y/Ns side.

“I’m definitely gonna kill all of them….” Flip growled in a panic, ready to jump down to interrupt their conversation until he heard Y/Ns answer.

“So far it has been quite nice. Flip is very gentle.” she answered after a while of thinking about the wolf girls question and gently brushed over her head.

Almost falling down the cave opening, Flip was quick to get his balance back and grabbed the killed prey and tried to make his way down to them as fast as possible.

“Speak of the devil… Welcome home, my dear husband.” Y/N greeted the rumbling footsteps that had been coming closer to them.

She could hear how his big tail was wagging through the air while he let out the quietest of whimpers since he wanted to come closer to her without trampling the pups that started to giggle around them.

Standing up from her spot, Y/N soon felt Flip's big paws on her hip while he wanted to lean down to lick her face like he normally would, but she quickly pulled it back.

“You reek of blood and decay. You’re not going to get close to me until you wash your mouth.” she mumbled while pinching her nose so she didn’t have to smell it.

“Okay!” he announced excitedly and quickly ran to the small natural creek that was running close to their hut to dunk his head under the water.

“Come children, if you are finished with your meal let's go back inside.”

“Yes Aunty Y/N!”

Flip could hear them call while he shook off the excess water. Looking over his shoulder he watched while the older siblings were gathering the bowls while the younger ones tried to fold together the blanket while Y/N picked up the youngest and smallest one.

Stretching out her arm to his vague direction he soon laid his snout into her palm and she pressed a gentle kiss on his nose which made him purr with a deep growl before he licked over her lips with eagerness.

But then she started to scratch his chin and it was all over for Flip, then he was just melting in her hand until she suddenly stopped and pulled her hand away so that he almost fell to the ground.

“How did you even manage to control those monsters so well?” he asked while following them inside.

“I was just nice to them so they are nice and listen to me. Not like you who growls at them every chance he gets.” she chuckled and god she was so lovely at this moment that Flips heart wanted to jump out of his chest, she was just so lovely.

“Will you gut your catch or should I?” she asked when they reached the huts entrance.

“I’ll do it, you can do better with these little monsters.” he agreed and pressed his cold snout against her cheek for a moment.

While Flip was taking care of the elk meat, he saw out of the corner of his eyes two of the older siblings running with a bucket towards the creek to gather some water before tiptoeing back to the hut where he could hear Y/N giving each of them a small job.

The only thing he could do was shake his head at that. They really just listened to her without another question.

When he finally had finished gathering the meat and could return inside, Y/N had already prepared one of the pan’s he had gotten her a while back, so that she could immediately cook a greater meal for these rascals.

These would be some long days, he thought to himself while sitting down on one of the chairs and a few pups already climbed all over him which made him only sigh deeply.

After eating Y/N's large meal, the pups gathered in a pile on the bed and curled up for a midday nap.

Noticing that it got very quiet in the hut, Y/N wasn’t sure what had just happened but Flip was gently taking her outstretched hands to pull her towards him.

“They’re asleep.” he whispered into her ear, while she let her hands wander to his shoulders so she could sit down comfortably on his lap, while Flip couldn’t possibly stop to nibble on her earlobe until she pulled her head away.

“Why didn’t you tell me what your sigil really meant?” she suddenly asked and Flip took a deep breath.

“If I had told you anything what it really meant then you wouldn’t have let me near you.”

“That’s true… I wouldn’t have.”

“When another wolf carves their sigil into his mate it is a sign of belonging. Which is why nobody will be able to harm you otherwise they will risk a gruesome punishment. Hurting one of your own pack ends with death.” Flip explained while resting his snout on her shoulder.

“But it also means that when we die at some point it will be easier for us in the afterlife to find each other again...” his words got quieter and quieter until they were just a scared whisper. He was afraid to lose her. Every time she would ask questions about his world and their tradition he was reminded under which circumstances she finally came into his life.

“Sounds romantic.” she mumbled quietly while wrapping her arms around his torso. Flips eyes widened and he wanted to look down at her expression until they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

All the pups suddenly woke up and quickly hid under the bed frame and immediately when Flip caught the scent of the other wolf that was standing in front of their hut, but before he could hinder Y/N from jumping from his lap and walking towards the door it was already too late to stop her.

When Y/N pulled the door open, she noticed that she wasn’t greeted by the normal glimmering soft bit of light, which would normally greet her when she would open the door for Ron, but a dark shadow was looming over her figure.

“What the hell do you want here?! Didn’t I tell you I don’t want you anywhere near me again!” Flips sudden deep growl let Y/N jump a little before she could feel his arm wrap around her waist and pull her back against his chest, so tightly that it almost hurt her. But noticing his reaped breath and how he didn’t stop to growl she was too afraid to say something.

“So this is your little toy now ...” Y/N could hear a deep female voice scoff back at him.

“She is none of your business! So leave!” Flips voice sounded so threatening that it send a shiver down her spine.

“But I have business with you. The elders send me.” the female wolf barked back.

Flips grip around Y/N slightly loosened before she could feel him gently lick over her cheek.

“Stay with the pups. I will be right back. Don’t be afraid.” he added when he saw her fearful expression. Carefully pushing her into the direction of the bed, Flip left the hut before closing the door behind him.

“So you already had pups with her?” the other wolf growled, an accusation undertone in her voice.

“Don’t be ridiculous! She hasn’t even been here for a month yet.” Flip scoffed at that accusation.

“But you want pups with her, right?! You even marked her as your own. How pathetic she can’t even give you what you want.” the other wolf didn’t stop her bickering.

“I don’t care if she can give me pups or not! It’s none of your business, to begin with. We are through, Abby.” Flip made extremely clear.

“Well, it matters if you will fall into your rut. How would you protect that fragile being from your insatiable hunger? You would rip her small body apart just to get a chance to mount her.”

Flips growl grew louder before he finally pounced onto the other wolf, biting into her neck and pushing her to the ground so that she yelped loudly and tried to fight back.

Y/N, who could hear everything they were fighting about pressed the shivering children against her chest while they heard the growling, barking, whimpering and yelping, from outside. The claws dragging over the ground, Flips threatening barks and the other wolves screams in pain.

Wrapping her arms tighter around the sobbing pups, she tried not to show her fear but she couldn’t help the tears that were forming in the corner of her eyes.

“I could kill you right here right now! And the Elders wouldn’t even punish me when I would tell that you endangered the pups and Y/N.” Flip threatened.

“They wouldn’t care about your filthy human!” she hissed back but screamed again when Flip dug his teeth deeper into her flesh.

“I would choose my next words very carefully if I were you...” he let out another warning growl.

“The full moon is coming closer… The elders want you both to attend the ritual...” the other wolf whimpered and Flip let go of her with furrowed brows.

“Just leave...” he mumbled while stepping away from the cowering wolf. He would ask the elders himself if this message was true. What would be benefitting to them if Y/N would join their rituals only to hear her own kind being slaughtered.

Watching the smaller wolf run away, yelping and whimpering he sighs deeply before stumbling over to the small creek to wash the blood off his fur.

Slowly opening the door to the hut, he could see them all cowering in a corner, while Y/N had her arms protectively around them.

“It’s alright now. She is gone again.” kneeling down next to them he gently laid his paw onto Y/Ns back and she quickly turned around to wrap her arms around his neck while relieving sobs escaped her lips.

“Are you hurt?” she mumbled, her hands trembling on his shoulders.

“Just a few scratches… nothing to worry about, my sweet darling Meat.” gently licking over her cheek, she let out a soft chuckle before the rest of the pups also climbed into Flips and her arms.

“Are you all alright?” he asked gently, while all their quick heartbeats echoed in his ears.

“Just a bit shaken is all...” she whispered and the older pups agreed with small whispers.

“That’s good… Ah!” one of the little ones had accidentally crawled over the wound on his lower arm and he quickly licked away the blood.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry Uncle Flip!” the little one apologized frantically but Flip only laid his big paw unto its head.

“Everything is fine. I’m okay.” Looking at all of their still frightened faces, Flip suddenly smiled then an idea had popped into his head.

“How about we go to the place I wanted to show you. First I didn’t want the gremlins to come with us but… we all could relax a little.” Flip mumbled to Y/N who had her head still buried against his shoulder.

“Where will you take us?” she asked and slowly lifted her head.

“A place where you will be able to fully relax… just trust me.” he whispered in her ear and gently started to nibble on it.

“I would like that … Right kids?”

“Yeah!”

In mere minutes the unusual group was on its way. Flip led them while he gently held onto Y/Ns hand who had insisted to walk herself. In his other arm rested the youngest of the pups, quietly holding on to him.

“It’s getting warmer...” Y/N noted while they were going deeper into the mountain.

“That means we’re close.” Flip smiled and the pups started running along while their laughs echoed against the cave walls.

“Woahh!” they could already hear them call from afar and soon when they walked around a corner, Y/N could feel a gush of warm wind brush against her cheek.

“Wh...what is it?” she asked excitedly and Flip needed to hold her back a bit.

“Hot Springs. Ron told me about them and since you complained about my bathing methods… well I thought you might like to take a real bath.” he chuckled and gently nudged her head with his snout.

“Well, why are we still standing here then?” Y/N was beaming at him and Flip couldn’t help but let out a low howl before smoothing her with licks and kisses first.

While the pups already claimed one of the pools for themselves, Flip carefully helped Y/N open her dress, so that she soon was just in her undergarment shift.

Without being able to control it Flips tail immediately started to wag at that beautiful sight. His body ached for her and after the next full moon, he would probably need to leave her for a while, then even though he had loathed the words he had heard from the other wolf it was true. In his rut, just thinking like a damn animal, he could endanger her. Something he never wanted to happen.

“Here… I’ll help you.” gently placing his paws on her hip, Y/N automatically laid her small hands on his broad shoulders before he lifted her up and slowly stepped into the big pool from the hot spring and gently let her down into the warm water. First pulling up her legs when she felt the unusual warm water, soon Y/N let her body completely surrounded by it when Flip sat down with her.

The water burned on his open wounds but seeing Y/Ns completely relaxed expression let him forget about all that.

He was in love with her, there was no other way to describe his feelings that first were just curiosity, a fleak obsession and fascination.

But now…. He couldn’t imagine his life without her any more.

Soaking in the water he leaned his back against the edge of the rocky pool and watched while she slowly combed through her wet hair with her fingers with a silent smile on her lips.

It came without a warning and no way to stop the words that he just couldn’t hold in any longer.

“I love you.”

Stopping mid-motion, Y/N slowly turned her head to him and almost looked directly back into his eyes. Shocked and in disbelief.

“Fl..Flip...” Y/N stammered shyly.

“It’s alright… you don’t have to say anything. I just … I just wanted you to know.” gently laying his paw into her neck, like he always did, he was at least relieved to see that she didn’t flinch away. It even seemed that she was leaning into his touch, just a bit. Lifting her hand she rested it on his wrist before leaning even more into his paw.

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #werewolf flip #werewolf!flip #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman au #flip x reader #flip imagine #flip au

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rdrthingies · 3 years ago

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i can’t sleep and am going in and out of dissociation have this ficlet about tayen’s first meltdown while in the gang ♡

Charles knew it was only a matter of time. It had been a good two months since she had a... reaction.

If only it wasn’t in the middle of fucking camp.

They had spent most of the day hunting, taking down an Elk in Tall Trees, then spent the other part of it skinning and butchering the animal. By the time they returned they were tired, sore, and hungry. They dropped off everything at Pearson’s wagon and dumped the stew into their bowls, finding a seat at one of the tables. They had forgotten Pearson likes to put carrots in the stew, that the carrots will get soft and mushy in the boiling water. And Tayen ate a whole chunk of mushy carrot without realizing.

Charles could see it as soon as she took her first bite, her face scrunching up into something of utter disgust, entire body tensing, a low moan coming from her throat.

“Oh shit,” He took a look in the bowl to make sure, then knelt beside Tayen. “Hey, c’mon, it’s okay. Spit it out.” She shook her head, jaw locked, stimuli overwhelming.

While he was thinking of his options her moans got louder, gaining attention.

“She alright?” Lenny asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

Charles turned and answered quickly, “She’s fine.” He didn’t mean to snap at the kid, but he really did not want to deal with these thousand questions right now. He turned back to Tayen, she was getting more and more stressed. “Hey, Tay. I’m gonna help you get it out okay? Just breathe Little Owl, just breathe.” He carefully brings his hand up to her jaw, pressing gently to help open her mouth. As soon as it was opened enough she and him worked together, bringing her body forward so the stew in her mouth dropped back out into the bowl with a plop.

But now that her mouth was free of the fowl texture and taste, she needed something - anything - to get the stimuli away.

Hands went to her braids first, pulling, but it was quickly proving to not be enough. Then they went to her arms, scratching hard.

“Tayen don’t do that,” He kept his voice calm. “C’mon you know that’s not good for you.” His hand touched hers, trying to gently get them away from her arms, but it only made it worse.

She was almost screaming now, hands flailing away from his, desperate for it to be gone gone gone!

Bill’s voice could be heard from the campfire, “The hell is wrong with ‘er?”

But before Charles could snap back at him to mind his own damn business, Arthur’s voice comes from his left. “None of yer damn business, Bill!”

“Well it is my business when she’s whining loud ‘nough to scare the damn birds!”

“I said enough!” Arthur’s shout, while well intentioned, caused Tayen to scream louder, hands over her ears. Too much stimuli, Charles needed to get her out of here.

“Arthur,” Charles kept his voice level, looking to the man. “Tack Taima up please, I’ll get her out of here and get her calmed down.”

Charles could see the guilt behind those blue eyes, Arthur knew he had done something to make it worse. “‘Course Charles.” He hurried towards the horses and quickly got the mare ready.

Charles turned back to Tayen, a hand on her back. “Okay Tay, I’m gonna lift you up and get you on Taima. We’ll go somewhere nice and quiet.” He places his other arm beneath her knees and lifted, easily holding her bridal style as he walked through camp, her ears still covered and her moan still loud.

Arthur held Taima steady as Charles got Tayen on her, then himself. As Arthur handed him the reins he gave him a gentle smile. “I’ll make sure camp stays quiet for when you come back.”

“Thanks Arthur,” He nodded his head and turned Taima, trotting out of camp.

The siblings returned that night, the moon high in the sky. Most were in bed or gathered around the fire, drinking beers and talking quietly. Charles said nothing to them as he brought his sleeping sister to their shared tent, placing her in gently; ignoring the stares and silent questions that he knew they had. After making sure she wouldn’t wake up he turned back, grabbing a beer and opening it. He needed one after today.

“Is she alright?” Hosea asked in a soft voice, still looking to Tayen’s slumbering form.

Charles nodded and took a sip, “She’s fine. Might be... quiet tomorrow but she’ll be okay.”

The older man nodded, genuine worry on his features, “If you don’t mind me asking... what... caused that?”

Here we go, Charles couldn’t help but think as he took another, longer swig. He collected his thoughts carefully before speaking. “Tayen... experiences the world different from me and you. Certain sounds and textures and tastes cause her physical pain. She’ll calm herself down by pulling on her braids or waving her hands or even humming and hooting like an owl.”

“Yeah I’ve heard ‘er do that couple of times,” Arthur now speaks up, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees.

“Well sometimes those aren’t enough,” Charles continues. “Especially when experiencing something that overwhelms her and causes her pain like eating a mushy carrot.” He runs a hand through his hair. “The methods she tries aren’t enough, so she gets louder and more frustrated and can end up hurting herself in this process.”

There’s silence for a beat, then Arthur speaks as if having a small epiphany. “Me yellin’... that... overwhelmed her more, didn’t it?”

“You didn’t know,” Charles looks up to the man. “You were trying to shut Bill up, which I thank you for. He would have definitely made it worse if he continued.”

“No doubt,” Arthur huffs, finishing his beer and setting it aside. “Well... we’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Charles.”

“And I’ll be sure to tell Pearson about laying low on the damn carrots,” Hosea nods, giving Charles a pat on his shoulder with a smile that made his wrinkles all the more prominent. “If there’s anything else we can do to help, just let us know. Remember you’re family now, family helps each other.” Charles nods, eyes focused on his hands, family helps each other.

#basing tayens meltdown off of my own #love to see it #thingy writes thingies #tayen lore #charles smith #hosea matthews #arthur morgan #bill williamson #lenny summers #rdr2 #red dead redemption #rdr #my writing

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beastlywritings · 4 years ago

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CH 2

Pairing: Eskel/OC (Lae’elan) AFAB NB (but gender doesn’t come into it until later)

Summary: After having a rough night of ignoring desire, Eskel is convinced to let Lae’elan tag along. She shows she’s worth the pains and adorable to boot.

Rating for this chapter: PG-13 for sexual innuendo and suggested sexual acts, as well as talk of masturbation TW (this chapter): manipulation, self consciousness about scars and appearance, eating fish raw, sexual thoughts of another person and feeling icky about it, masturbation mention, cruel self-talk, gratuitous use of italics for thoughts

AN: betaed only for grammar and spelling, but not content. If you wanna gimme some concrit, I’d be grateful; this is my first time posting fic in years and I’m rusty as hell. Hold on to your pants, kids, this whole fic is gonna be a saga. Also I know Lan is a mary-sue. I’m well aware. Deal with it. She’s bits and pieces of me and my ideal self.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Eye ones were custom, swirls were premade. Go visit them! Awesome work.

Eskel brought himself back to the world an hour before sunrise proper. The urge to just run and avoid the shapeshifter flitted through his mind as he looked across the banked firepit at her sleeping, thankfully humanoid, form. He shook the thought away, running a hand through his hair. No, she’d been nothing but kind and good conversation; she deserved a good-bye at the very least.

Don’t run from a good thing like Wolf did, he scolded himself. She wanted to stay with him. Why, he had no clue. Surely he wasn’t that good of a conversation partner, he reiterated his thoughts from the night before.

Leaving the clearing and walking a few paces, Eskel moved behind a bush to relieve himself. He considered how quickly he was adapting to having a campmate that was not one of his brothers. He’d immediately offered to hunt for her, had done his best to entertain her, and now he was not only leaving the clearing to piss, but also hiding himself from her potential gaze to preserve modesty while he had his dick out. It had been shockingly easy. He remembered Geralt complaining at how annoying it had been to get accustomed to camping with Jaskier.

Don’t get used to it. She’ll leave you soon enough. Her proposal. What was he going to say? She’ll want an answer soon as she wakes, no doubt. What could she possibly want tagging along. Must have some ulterior motive.

But what if she doesn’t? What if she only wants some companionship like she says? What then? Do I want someone trailing along beside me? He made his way back, head more full of questions than when he left.

Rummaging through the saddlebags slung over a hefty branch to find the jerky he’d stashed, he considered his next move.

Last night was nice, he conceded, breaking his fast. He watched her for a minute, her breaths even and the rise and fall of her chest calming. I’ll ask what she’s after. Besides, she’s not like Jaskier; can probably hold her own, protect herself. He realized he’d just argued in her favor. Wiping a hand down his face, he wondered if this was how Geralt had felt like in Dol Blathanna all those years ago.

A rustle, and an uptick in heart rate and breathing. Eskel would get his answers soon enough; Lae’elan was waking.

She roused with a large yawn, not bothering to cover her mouth with its curling tongue and sharp teeth. Blearily, she noticed Eskel looking at her, arms crossed as he stood leant against a tree.

“Mornin’ Eskel,” she smiled, rubbing her eyes before shaking her head like a dog. Her long ears made a plap plap plap noise as they bent and slapped against her head. She looked much more alert now.

“Mmmm there, that’s more like it,” she said, getting to her feet, “So did you think about my offer?” she asked, stretching out her back with arms over her head. Eskel watched her and hummed.

“And your answer?” she asked, rolling her eyes fondly.

“What do you want tagging along with a witcher?” She sighed at his question as he eyed her suspiciously.

“I come out of nature every so often, typically for a single day to get my fill of actual conversation. Normally,” she said, taking a few steps towards him and crossing her own arms, “I’m stuck talking to closed-minded humans about mundane shit and politics,” she winced at the word with obvious distaste, “Normally, I have to hide what I am. Normally, I’m sick of humanity after just a few hours and I fuck back off to wander the woods as a creature. You, Eskel, you’re interesting, I can be myself, and, most of all, you’re kind,” she finished, shrugging. He narrowed his eyes further.

“Look, I’m not saying I want to stick to you forever like your brother’s bard; I’ll get sick of having hands and human niceties just as I always do,” She wiggled her fingers for emphasis. Eskel couldn’t stop the snort that escaped at that. “I’m just intrigued that I don’t find myself sick of them yet. That hasn’t happened in quite some time,”

“You know travelling with me would be dangerous. I don’t skate around the monsters; I head straight for them. And you’d be expected to pull your weight.” She laughed, tilting her head back.

“Monsters don’t scare me, witcher. I’m sure I’ve likely killed almost as many as you and without getting paid. And it would be no more dangerous than my normal existence,” she chuckled, coming closer again. She noted that Eskel straightened up a bit. “And like last night, I wouldn’t dream of mooching. You’d be surprised at how much I can do for you. I’m a shite cook, but I can hunt bigger game much easier than you in a quarter of the time, and find roughage on top of that. Could keep you well fed. I can mend and embroider passably if you supply materials. I can keep watch if needs be, act as a nursemaid if you get hurt, and hell, if you wanted a break I could probably either help with big hunts or just outright do your small contracts for you. You can even keep the coin; I’ve no need for it, that’s for sure,” she finished, making sure to leave out the option of being his bedwarmer as well. She didn’t want to push too much after last night.

“Sounds too good to be true,” Eskel pushed himself off the tree, “Means it most likely is. What’s in it for you?” he jutted his chin out at her.

“Companionship from the first interesting person I’ve met in years, a little extra adventure…” she said. Eventually the information I’ve been searching for my whole life over, she thought. Ah fuck, she couldn’t help it. “And honestly, there are a few other benefits,” she smirked, eyeing him up and down. She hoped that the flirting covered up the lurch in her heart beat. “What can I say, you’re eye candy, and I don’t deny myself looking at pretty things,” she hummed. His nostrils flared, but not in anger. He was scenting her. She knew herself well enough to know he smelled the faint traces of lust coming off her. She was banking on it. He looked conflicted. Fuck, too far? she questioned herself.

“You keep… What’s so--” he grunted, frustrated with himself, with his difficulty voicing his thoughts. “Fine,” he sighed, “You can come with me, but I warn you, I bump elbows with humans quite often. Towns and cities alike.” He looked her up and down, still trying to figure her out, assessing her.

“And at those junctures you’ll either be rid of me, or I can keep your horse company in the stable. I make a fine barn cat,” she smiled, approaching the big black warhorse.

“Wait! He--” Eskel put out a hand to stop her, but she held her own towards Scorpion and he came sedately to her hand to be pet. Eskel was shocked. He barely let stableboys pet him after taking care of him for a few days. Lae’elan chuckled.

“Another thing about me?” she said, petting down the stallion’s face, “Is that all animals love me.” Scorpion snorted, demanding more nose pets. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Eskel’s head tilt and his brows pull together, confused and bewildered. It was clear he’d been expecting a violent reaction.

“He-- He never-- He hates being pet by strangers. Can’t count how many times he’s bit stableboys,” he muttered.

“With me, you’ll never be bothered by another wolf pack, bull moose, or rutting elk again,” she hummed, continuing her petting session but looking straight at Eskel.

“Can you…”

“Talk to them? In a manner of speaking. I more… mentally order and they either acquiesce or get ornery before eventually giving in. Some creatures are more… suggestable,” she sighed, trying to collect thoughts in a sensical manner, “If you mean actually having a conversation.... Most animals communicate with body language. If I have the same body, I can speak their own tongue directly at them, easy. In a humanoid form, less so. I can alter my vocal chords for certain things that have more vocal elements of communication, like that crow last night, and for howling to wolves, and a few others. I sat my ass down and learned the vocal parts of the language fully for those.” Scorpion nipped at her hair and tugged and she laughed brightly.

“Cheeky!” she hummed, petting him, “I think someone’s ready to go if you are.” She blew a raspberry at the horse and he knocked her with his massive head. She even allowed herself to be moved.

At that, Eskel began loading up his horse, shaking his head in disbelievement.

“So,” she began, “Where to?” They’d been on the road, walking in relative silence for a bit. Eskel eyed her paws from where he sat astride Scorpion.

“Nowhere in particular. Next town’s a few days away; check the notice board there,” He glanced down again. She was still very much not human.

“You’re staring. Don’t worry, I’ll change as soon as I hear anyone coming,” she smiled up at him, “You don’t need to worry about me. No one’s caught me in decades. I’m careful,”

“Hence the stalking me for a day,” he joked, smiling. It wasn’t particularly comforting that she had been caught, period, but he supposed he was careful and had gotten ambushed all the same in the past.

“There’s your sense of humor! Knew you had one!” She kidded. Eskel smiled a tiny bit more at her jabbing back. “But yes, I’d rather not get hunted down and caged for a menagerie or a mage’s whims, so caution is my code.” His small smile made Lae’elan’s even brighter. She couldn’t help it; it was such a cute smile, and a good look on him.

Eskel was amazed at how well she kept up with him, walking alongside the horse. She never seemed to get out of breath or slow, keeping perfect pace, her paws propelling her along quickly. She was sweating a fair bit, but then again, he was sweating some as well despite not exerting himself.

And she was alert and adept as she led on, too. She’d put a hand on his leg in the stirrup suddenly and he watched as she shifted, the horns and ears melding into a human form, her eyes dulling to a whiskey brown. Her paws turned to normal human feet, the toes peeking out from under the dress when she walked from his perspective. Others would likely see her whole foot, the skirt landing at about ankle height. The sight was discomfiting, though he couldn’t place why exactly.

“What--”

“People. A cart,” she said, under her breath. He listened, but didn’t hear anything; the place where she’d touched him felt like it was buzzing. He realized it had been the first time she’d touched him. A few seconds and he heard them, the humans on a cart, from around the bend.

Her hearing is better than mine, he realized, surprised. She was silent, not looking in their direction, only straight ahead. The merchants scowled at him as they passed each other, Eskel steering his single horse closer to the shoulder. He knew they could both hear the slurs and spitting coming from the occupants. He watched her, and saw she didn’t react until they were past, and only then a hardening of the eyes. Once they were a few minutes behind them, and they made no signs of following them, Lae’elan shifted back. Again, watching the change so closely made him uneasy, making his eyes ache as if he’d been staring at a book for hours.

“Try not to watch so much,” she suggested, catching him blink a few times, “Give you a headache if you watch too closely.”

At around noon, Eskel began to pull over into the trees at the side of the road. Dismounting, he asked,

“Don’t suppose those ears of yours hear water?” He couldn’t hear any himself.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, listening for a second before pointing forward and to the right a bit. “Yep, not much, but there’s a trickle that-a-way,” Eskel looked a bit skeptically in the direction she pointed, and, focusing, he couldn’t hear the breathing or shifting of bandits, and so found no reason to doubt her. After a minute of leading Scorpion into the woods, he began hearing the sounds of water as well.

They found it was a runoff from uphill, barely trickling down from a recent rain. Eskel was glad they’d filled canteens from the stream Lae’elan had found last night before they’d moved on, and that it wasn’t so hot that they’d drank much at all. The water was gritty with sandy dirt, but clean enough for the horse as he bent his head to drink. Eskel drank a bit, but elected to not waste time trying to refill the little space in his canteen.

“Have to keep our ears out as we go along,” he grunted, standing. The shapeshifter was sipping, mouth to the water rather than using her hands, when the wind changed. Her head snapped up and a wide smile lit up her face.

“What’s your opinion on raspberries?”

“Why?”

“You can’t smell ‘em?” she asked. He gave her a blank look. “Damn, alright, wait here. I’m gonna go get us some lunch,” she laughed, skipping off into the trees.

Eskel laid back in the shade and watched the clouds, waiting. It couldn’t hurt; they were making good time. A few minutes later, he turned to the sound of twigs snapping and reached for his swords before stopping. He was getting to know her pleased giggle quite well, he realized as the shapeshifter broke through the cover of the trees. She was still in her base form, her dress pulled up to the length that would be mid-thigh level on a human to create a pouch. The pocket of fabric was heavy, laden with berries. Her fingers and lips, he noticed with a chuckle, were stained red and purple. He focused on that rather than the fact that he was rather close to seeing too much of her for his comfort.

“Found some blackberries, too!” she said, sounding pleased as punch, “Here, help yourself! As you can see, I had a few already,” She hummed and plopped down next to him, thankfully obscuring her legs beneath the rest of her dress.

“Quite a haul,” he noted, smiling as he took a handful of the black berries. Popping a few in his mouth, the tart-sweet taste burst on his tongue. They were warm from the sun. He hummed in enjoyment.

“Raspberries are my favorite,” she admitted, shovelling a handful of the red fruit into her mouth and grinned, chewing, “Didn’t have breakfast like an idiot, so a roadsnack was overdue.”

“There’s no way you’re gonna eat all of those,” he shook his head, “You’ll make yourself sick,”

“You’d be surprised. Takes a lot to fill me completely. This,” she said, circling a finger around her hoard of fruit, “I can put away no problem.” She hoped he caught the double entendre. “I can eat half a deer in one sitting [i]easy.[/i] Both halves if I haven’t eaten in a day. But I did get a bunch of them for you, too. Wasn’t sure how much you could put away,” she shrugged, popping back another handful of mixed berries. Eskel was careful to take mostly blackberries, and found himself a little embarrassed at the realization he was leaving her favorites for her.

They finished the berries, to Eskel’s surprise, and he found himself pleasantly more full than he normally would be, but not overfull. He’d eaten quite well in the past day. Maybe she is a good idea, afterall, he mused, looking down at his companion, who smiled up at him, one eye closed to the sun’s glare. Eskel felt his gut clench, pleased. Or maybe not. Taglist: @its--fandom--darling

#Eskelxoc #Shifterverse #mywriting #the witcher #witcher fanfic #tw3ff #oc fanfic #witcher oc #Let! Es! Fuck! Monsters!#ch 2

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queen-of-deans-booty · 5 years ago

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I Believe the Children Are Our Future: Part Two

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,180

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

“You’re going to get sick if you eat all this ham,” you noted as Dean worked on his third sandwich of the early evening. Sam walked into the motel room and rolled his eyes when he saw his brother eating.

“Dude, seriously—still with the ham?”

“We don't have a fridge,” Dean said with his mouth full. Sam placed a map in front of you and Dean before explaining what he found.

“Well, I found something,” Sam pointed to each of the red X’s he marked on the map. “Um, tooth fairy attack was here, Pop Rocks and Coke was here, then you've got itching powder, face freeze, and joy buzzer—all located within a two-mile radius.”

“So, we got a blast zone of weird, and inside, fantasy becomes reality?” you wondered.

“Looks like.”

“And what's the A-bomb at its center?”

“Four acres of farmland and a house.”

“Then I know where we need to go next,” you declared as you snatched the keys from the table.

“Why don’t you just knock?” you asked as Sam tried to pick the lock.

“There might not be anyone home,” he said just as the door opened.

Sam quickly put away the lock pick kit as you three stared at the kid who answered the door. There was a soft black glow around the kid’s body, and your eyes widened when you realized what that meant.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi. Uh, what's your name?”

“Who wants to know?”

“The, uh, FBI,” Dean said as he and Sam took out their credentials to show him, but you couldn’t seem to move.

Dean looked at you to see what was wrong when he noticed your pale face. There was something you were seeing that they weren’t and he became worried.

“Let me see that,” the young boy said as he grabbed Dean’s badge. When he was convinced that they were real, he handed it back. “So, what, you guys don't knock?”

“Are your parents home?” you whispered.

“They work.”

“Could we please take a look inside? Maybe ask you a few questions?” you asked, trying to show the boy you can do more than just stare at him in fear.

“Fine,” he sighed as he let you inside.

He walked to the kitchen where a pot of soup was cooking. He turned off the stove and began pouring it into a bowl.

“What's that?” Sam asked, trying to make conversation.

“It's called soup. You heat it up and you eat it.”

“Right. I, I know. It's just, um... I used to make my own dinner, too, when I was a kid.”

“Well, I'm not a kid,” he said defensively.

“No, you’re not,” you muttered.

Dean noticed artwork on the fridge, and he took it down before showing it to young boy.

“I’m Robert, by the way,” Sam said as he shook his hand.

“Jesse.”

“Did you draw this?” Dean asked as he motioned to the drawing of the tooth fairy in which Sam described exactly at the hospital.

“It's the tooth fairy,” Jesse nodded.

“That's what you think the tooth fairy looks like, huh?”

“Yeah. My dad told me about him. What, didn't your dad tell you about the tooth fairy?”

“My dad?” Dean chucked. “My dad told me different stories.”

“Well, the tooth fairy isn't a story.”

“What do you know about itching powder, Jesse?” you asked.

“That stuff will make you scratch your brains out.”

“Pop Rocks and Coke?”

“You mix them, and you'll end up in the hospital. Everyone knows that,” he shrugged. Pulling out the joy buzzer, you showed it to Jesse whose eyes widened. “You shouldn't have that.”

“Why not?”

“It can electrocute you.”

“Actually, it can't. It's just a wind-up toy. It's totally harmless. Doesn't even have batteries.”

“So, it can't shock you?”

“Nope. Not at all. I swear.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I mean, all it does is just shake in your hand. It's kind of lame. See?” you demonstrated by placing the end of the buzzer on Dean’s chest.

It shocked him in the way it was supposed to be shocked, but he didn’t know that. His form stiffened up, and he gave you a murderous look for doing so. Jesse grinned and giggled when he saw Dean’s reaction, but you could only give a half-assed smile.

“What the hell was that?” Dean growled when you three left his house.

“I had a hunch. I went with it.”

“You risked my ass on a hunch?”

“You're fine. Sam’s fine. I’m fine, but that boy is not fine,” you whispered fearfully.

“What did you see earlier?” Sam asked when he remembered the look in your eyes upon seeing the boy for the first time.

“He’s a demon.”

“What?”

“Or half-demon. I don’t know, but there is a black glow around that boy. It’s faint, but it’s there. He’s not a witch and he doesn’t have cursed objects. Whatever he believes in comes true because he’s a damn demon that has the power to do so.”

“I guess we need to figure out who his parents are.”

“Tell me you found something,” you sighed when Sam walked into the motel. Dean was on the bed reading something, but you were too nervous to do anything like that.

“It's not much. Uh, a B student who won last year's Pinewood Derby. Get this, Jesse was adopted. His birth records are sealed.”

“Tell me you unsealed them.”

“There's no father listed, but Jesse's biological mom is named Julia Wright. She lives in Elk Creek, on the other side of the state.”

“Great, let’s go. I need to know how this kid is a demon and didn’t try to kill us at first glance.”

Julia lived in such a secluded part of town. It didn’t make sense for her to be out here unless she was hiding from something or someone. There was a gate that separated the house from the street, and on the front was a “no trespassing” sign, but you ignored it as you pushed your way through. Approaching the front door, you rang the doorbell and waited.

“Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested.”

“We’re not salesmen. Agents Ronan, Page, and Plant. FBI,” you announced. Taking out your credentials, you held it up to the peephole along with Sam and Dean.

Put your badge in the slot. Your partners’, too,” she said. Sighing, you did as was told, and a few second slater, Julia opened the door and handed back the badges.

“What do you want?”

“We just had a few questions about your son.”

“I don’t have a son.”

“He was born March twenty-ninth, nineteen ninety-eight, in Omaha. You put him up for adoption?”

“What about him?”

“We were just wondering, um, was it a normal pregnancy? Was there anything strange?” you asked. All of a sudden, Julia slammed the door in a panic with fear in her eyes.

“Stay away from me!”

“Mrs. Wright wait!” you exclaimed as you pushed your way through the doors. When she slammed on, you opened it and continued on.

“We just want to talk!” you exclaimed. She finally entered the kitchen, and when you entered, she threw salt t the three of you.

“You're not demons?”

“I knew it!” you gasped as you lightly slapped Dean’s chest to prove your point.

“How do you know about demons?” Dean gasped.

“Mrs. Wright, we are not here to hurt you. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and these are Sam and Dean Winchester. We’re hunters, and demons are one of the monsters we hunt. Now, please tell us about your son because we really need to know more about him,” you said in a calm manner. Julia sighed and nodded before taking you three to the dining room.

“I was possessed. A demon took control of my body, and I hurt people. I killed people.”

“That wasn’t you,” Sam sighed.

“But I was there. I heard a woman beg for mercy. I felt a young girl's blood drip down my hands.”

“That's how you knew about the salt,” Dean observed.

“Yeah, I picked up tricks. It was in my head for months. Many, many months.”

“How many?”

“Nine.”

“So, your son…”

“Yeah, the whole time. The pregnancy, birth—all of it. I was possessed. The night the baby was born, I was alone. And the pain was—the pain was overwhelming. I screamed, and it came out a laugh because the demon was happy. It used my body to give birth to a child. When it was over, something changed. Maybe the demon was tired or if the pain helped me fight it, but somehow, I took control.

“And the demon wailed inside me. It pounded against my skull. I thought my head was gonna explode. But I knew. I knew what I had to do. When I was alone with the baby, a part of me wanted to kill it. But, God help me, I couldn't do that. So, I put it up for adoption, and I ran.”

“Who was the father?” you asked.

“I was a virgin,” she shook her head. “Have you seen my son? Is he human?”

“His name's Jesse. He lives in, uh, Alliance. He's a good kid,” you said, leaving out the part that made him a demon. It took some time, but you three left her house with frowns on your faces.

“So, now what?” Sam asked.

“We need help.”

“You think he’s here?” Dean asked as you walked into the motel room.

“I said half-demon baby child. So, yeah, I think he’s here,” you stated as you turned on the lights. There, in the middle of the room, stood Castiel.

“It's lucky you found the boy,” the angel spoke.

“Oh, yeah, real lucky. What do we do with him?”

“Kill him.”

“Castiel,” you sighed after a few moments of staring at him in shock.

“This child is half demon and half human, but it's far more powerful than either. Other cultures call this hybrid Cambion or Katako. You know him as the antichrist,” he said as he took a seat at the table.

In an instant, fart noises was all that could be heard, and you three stared at Castiel as it continued to happen. Dean tried to hide the smile from his face until it was done. Castiel reached underneath him and pulled out the whoopee cushion Dean bought before placing it on the table.

“That wasn’t me.”

“Anyway, I don't get it. Jesse is the devil's son?” Sam asked.

“No, of course not. Your Bible gets more wrong than it does right. The antichrist is not Lucifer's child. It's just a demon spawn, but it is one of the devil's greatest weapons in the war against heaven.”

“Well, if Jesse's a demonic howitzer, then what the hell's he doing in Nebraska?”

“The demons lost him. They can't find him, but they're looking.”

“Why did they lose him?” you asked.

“Because of the child's power. It hides him from both angels and demons. For now.”

“So, he's got, like, a force field around him. Well, that's great. Problem solved.”

“It’s why the shit’s been happening in a two-mile radius. It’s his ‘force field’ as you put it,” you observed.

“With Lucifer risen, this child grows strong. Soon, he will do more than just make a few toys come to life—something that will draw the demons to him. The demons will find this child. Lucifer will twist this boy to his purpose. Then, with a word, this child will destroy the Host of Heaven.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. You're saying that—that Jesse's gonna nuke the angels?” Dean gasped.

“We cannot allow that to happen.”

“Wait,” Sam stood. “We're the good guys. We—we don't just kill children.”

“A year ago, you would have done whatever it took to win this war,” Castiel glared as he stood.

“Things change,” Sam narrowed his eyes.

Dean stepped forward and placed a hand on his brother’s chest to calm him down before speaking.

“Okay. Hey, look, we are not going to kill him. Alright? But we can't leave Jesse here either. We know that. So, we take him to Bobby's. He'll know what to do.”

“You'll kidnap him? What is going on in this town, it's what happens when this thing is happy. You cannot imagine what it will do if it's angry. Besides, how will you hold him? With a thought, he could be halfway around the world.”

“So, we tell him the truth. You say Jesse's destined to go dark side—fine, but he hasn't yet. So, if we lay it all out for him—what he is, the apocalypse, everything—he might make the right choice,” Sam tried to reason with the angel. Castiel glared and leaned forward, his eyes deep with disappointment and anger.

“You didn’t. I can’t take that chance,” he disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Damn it,” Sam groaned.

“Come on, he’s headed for Jesse,” you exclaimed as you grabbed the keys to the car.

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starlling-writes · 4 years ago

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Bewitching Monsters - Leshen

Series Rating: 18+ Chapter Contains: swearing, sexual scenes Pairing: f/genderfluid BeMo Masterlist ☆ Writing Masterlist

A/N: If you reblog this, PLEASE DO NOT TAG IT AS WEND*GO! This is not a wend*go. While the leshen in this story might shift and appear similar to the common image of a one, it’s completely unrelated to any of the Indigenous Americans’ folklore of said creature. Sure, it’s a more well known tag than leshen, but that’s not the point. If I see you tagging this as wend*go, you’re gonna get blocked.

— — —

My limbs stung like hell as heat returned to them. Sitting up was a struggle, but I needed to move, needed to get my circulation up. I didn’t recognize where I was. It was a cozy log cabin a bit smaller than my own home. I didn’t remember how I got here.

After escaping the castle of some murderous vampires, I hopped on my broom and started my way home. I avoided the train, knowing they’d look for me there. Flying would take longer, but I was banking on the vampires checking my home and moving on by the time I got there. I also banked on Vérus not putting up with any lookout they might try leaving.

My broom was only able to carry me a few hours away before it needed to recharge. By then I was well into the woods. I took my cloak from my haversack to keep warm. While I didn’t need to worry about its warmth spell running out, it wasn’t a true solution against the cold. I quickly realized my folly in my rushed decision to stay off the beaten paths. There were plenty of dead branches around for a fire. But without some sort of shelter, this situation would quickly become as deadly as the one I just escaped from.

Someone had to have rescued me. But who? And how far off my path had they taken me?

“Hello?” I tentatively called out. The only things I heard were the crackling fire and the wind hissing outside.

Walking sent needles up through my legs. I wobbled my way through the house, checking the rooms, finding no one. The smell of fresh bread led me to the kitchen. There was a small loaf sitting on the table, cooling on a cloth, and the sight of it made my stomach grumble.

“Help yourself.”

I screamed and whipped around. I tripped over my feet and my hip met the edge of the table. Ignoring the pain burning in my side, I met the concerned eyes of a moth. If I had met them outside, I would have easily mistaken them for a snow sculpture if they stood still. Even their robes were icy white.

“Careful.” They tentatively held out a hand towards me, ready to assist. “Take it slow. You’re safe here. My name is Theophania.”

“Hello.” I bowed my head; it was a bit late for greetings but better than never. “You can call me Witch.”

“What were you doing in the woods?”

“Running from death.”

“Well you nearly meet it anyways.” She went to the fireplace and removed the lid from the cauldron hanging over the fire. The rich scent of stew wafted around me. “Soup is nearly done. Please, relax. You can eat in here or out on the couch. You can even eat while in the bath, if you so choose.” She laughed lightly to herself as she stirred the stew.

“I’m sorry, but where exactly am I?”

Theophania set down the spoon and replaced the lid on the cauldron. She turned and looked at me, her eyes haunting voids that revealed nothing. Her antenna, however, drooped back, giving me a sense of unease. “You’re in der Schwarzwald. Or Feldberg Forest, as most outsiders call it.”

You’ve heard tales of these woods. The forest was an entity of its own, one obstinately set against letting any society try to tame it. It wasn’t a place to go wandering. Tales say, if you were lucky, you’d just wander for endless hours and end up roughly where you started. If you weren’t lucky, the woods would become your grave. It was hard to say what stories were true and what ones were fanciful tales for entertainment.

As my situation sunk in, Theo slowly nodded. “Rest up. You’ll be meeting the waldschrat soon.”

Waldschrat—who or what was that?

Theo was a lovely host during the two long days before I met the waldschrat. She gave me space, cooked phenomenal meals, and it was beyond cozy to snuggle with her on the couch while drinking tea.

While all that was nice, it didn’t dissuade my anxiety.

I knew it was time the moment Theo walked into the room. Her antennas were down flat and she held her hands tightly in front of her. I threw on my cloak and boots and followed her out.

The walk was silent, save for the crunching of snow under my feet. I thought of using my broom but now didn’t feel like the time to use any magic. Gods, the silence was imposing. Did anything else live in these woods? There were no other houses along our walk. I didn’t even find eyes watching from the shadows.

Theo stopped and I almost ran into her. My focus had been scattered everywhere else but snapped to mass of branches and moss in front of us. There was no snow on it. She grabbed my arm and yanked me down to my knees like her. Curse the freezing snow. As soon as she released me, I adjusted my cloak under the knees to fight against the chill.

The air rushed from behind us and swirled in a mini cyclone around the snowless mound. Then it moved. The mound grew and contorted, taking on the form of a satyr. A nightmarish satyr. A skull emerged from the branches, a raccoon I think. Blue fire sparked to life in its eyes. Ah. Waldschrat must be their term for leshen, I thought.

“Sorcerer,” crept a voice, like a whisper grew legs and skittered around like a frantic bug. “How did you come by my favor?”

It would be easier to answer if I knew what their favor was. The leshen approached, shifting as they did. Now they looked like a cervitaur with a fox skull—still nightmarish too. They hooked a claw under the twig necklace. Clarity struck. “A vampire named Aleril gave it to me before I fled Castelul Corvinilor.”

“Ah. Him.” They pulled their claw away, letting the necklace fall against my skin. It no longer felt like metal. I wanted to look, to see if it was different now, but I didn’t dare look away from the leshen. “Tell me, sorcerer. Can you cast a Grand Rite?”

“I can.”

“Then how about a bargain? I shall take you to the edge of my woods, if you perform the Rite.”

“Forgive my forwardness—why do you need a Grand Rite?”

The leshen shifted again to an amorphic mound of underbrush and detritus. “Sustenance has become scarce. I am hoping the Rite will help aid in the matter.”

Surely there were better rituals than the Grand Rite for such a thing, but I didn’t argue. “Has a druid not been able to help?”

“There’s no longer any close enough to bargain.”

“I see.” I wasn’t sure how much help I could be. I wanted to help; but as a witch, I wasn’t sure if what they were offering would equal the payment for such a ritual. I called to the Grand Scales. The ibis was sitting in its nest and regarded me for a long moment before making its decision. As I thought, the ritual required more. Hopefully the leshen won’t mind. “I can perform the Rite. However, as I am a witch, my magic will cost more than just safe travel.”

Judging by how they shifted back to a looming, monstrous form complete with wolf skull, I’d say the leshen wasn’t fond of my response. “What are your demands then?”

It was taking everything I had not to shiver. “As this is your forest, I’ll need you to participate in the Rite with me and lend some of your magic to the spell.”

They cocked their head like a quizzical animal. “Is that all?”

“No,” I hesitated. “I’ll need a spell in return.”

“What spell?” they growled.

Finding words was difficult now. “The Scales weren’t very… concise on that part. But there’s some spell you know that I apparently require.” When they didn’t respond, I rambled on. “Of course, I wouldn’t teach the spell with anyone else; and I swear by the Grand Scales to not abuse it. Or maybe you could just cast it for me when I need it, that way you don’t even have to teach it—”

“Very well,” they cut me off.

The rest of the day, and into the next, everyone prepped for the ritual. There were a surprising number of forest folk now. Mostly, they gathered enough ribbon for the maypole—and dying more red ribbon. Some prepared food for a small feast afterwards. All simple work, but time consuming.

When it was time for the ritual, it was amazing to see how beautiful the ritual space was. Eight saplings circled the center, stretching up and meeting in the center to form a cage around the area I’d perform the Rite. At the top of the trees, the ribbons were secured in a red-white alternating pattern. Faerie lights bobbed around, giving off gentle light.

I approached the central area and noticed delicate runes carved into the saplings. In the middle laid a bed of furs. Hopefully they’d be enough to keep me warm because I wouldn’t be able to rely on my cloak during the ritual. I sat down and started meditating, getting into the proper headspace.

By the time I was ready, the leshen was already patiently waiting beside me in a humanoid form with an elk skull. “You ready?” I asked.

“At your leisure,” they nodded.

I removed my robe and shivered as goosebumps instantly covered my body—skyclad outside in winter was a bitch. I settled before my singing bowl, thankful for the furs. I picked up the mallet, hit the edge three times, then slowly drew the mallet around the rim of the bowl. The hum hung in the air as I carried out the start of the ritual. Just before the note died out, I rang the bowl three more times.

Then the band kicked up. Okay, it wasn’t much of a band, but there were enough drums, a couple fiddles, and a flute to make a nice tune. Other members of the forest took up their ribbons. I moved over to the leshen and straddled over them. They already shifted their form appropriately. Then, on cue, the forest dwellers started weaving the maypole ribbons as I lowered myself down onto the leshen’s phallus.

A creature like a leshen had no need for sex, so I wasn’t surprised by their lack of skill. But I was fine with doing all the work. It actually made it easier to channel the magic that way. I leaned forward, splaying my hands across their chest and pushing them down. This position was much better than lotus. A growl rumbled from the leshen. Then they grabbed my hips and met my rhythm. Either they were a quick learner or I was very wrong about my initial assumption.

I was not complaining.

The leshen surprised me further when I felt a large press against my entrance. I let out a gasp then glanced down between my legs. Before, the leshen’s phallus had been basic and human. Now it had a lovely knot towards the base of the shaft.

“Would you prefer I changed back?” they asked.

“No, it’s fine. I was just surprised.” I pushed down and relished how the knot stretched me. It was even more delightful as it popped in and out of me as I continued riding them. How was this the first time I fucked someone with a knot? Sure, I had a dildo or two with them, but they obviously didn’t have the same wonderful power that the leshen was putting into their thrusts.

“Fuck me from behind,” I panted. If I wasn’t so focused on the ecstasy I would have been more impressed—and maybe a bit creeped out—by how the leshen simply flowed and shifted, reforming behind me while they never stopped thrusting deep into me.

Perks of a shifter species.

Another great thing was that, since the leshen was mostly wood, it felt like I was being spanked with a paddle with each pump. Would they leave my ass red and bruised? The thought sent a rush of excitement pulsing through me.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I came before the maypole finished.

Holding myself up grew difficult. I slid down onto my forearms, my face burying into the warm furs. I no longer needed their warmth. My fingers dug into the fur as moan after moan rocked out of me. I was drowning in bliss.

The leshen’s grip constricted tight around my lower body. I wasn’t sure about them, but I wasn’t going to last much longer. Between the knot, the paddling, and the tight binding… Damn, this had been such a turn of events. I was grateful now for all the circumstances that led to this wonderful Rite.

My orgasm hit and washed through me, blocking out the world for a moment. After the initial wave of pleasure, I focused and weaved the energy we had built for the spell. The leshen release their grip and sat back on the furs beside me. I gradually got to my feet—with a little help from them—and finished off the ritual. If this Rite didn’t help bring fertility to this forest, I had no idea what would.

With the ritual done, I plopped back down on the furs, stretched, then curled up on my side. “I’m going to take a nap now, if that’s alright.”

The leshen leaned over and nuzzled my hair. They pulled my discarded cloak over me before settling against my back. “Rest well, little one.”

— — —

A/N: If you reblog this, PLEASE DO NOT TAG IT AS WEND*GO! This is not a wend*go. If I see you tagging this as such, you’re gonna get blocked.

BeMo Masterlist ☆ Writing Masterlist Story: Previous — Next

#monster love #exophilia #exophilia fiction #writeblr #leshen #shifter #forest monster #forest king #forest guardian #ancient one #old god

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zen3to5 · 5 years ago

Text

J/H 4-04: Hyde Goes Cruisin’

Okay, time for a page-one rewrite!

Some of you could probably guess that this episode would be on the list for a rewrite project like this. And I actually think it's been changed enough that the original title doesn't fit anymore. So, instead of "Hyde Gets the Girl," you have "Hyde Goes Cruisin'." We assume that 4-03, "Pinciotti vs. Forman," remains the same.

A few scenes here adapt material, not only from scenes cut from other rewritten scripts, but also the characters from the old That '70s Show website. My understanding is that those were treated as semi-official, so I figured they were fair game.

FF.Net AO3

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SHOW TITLE INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - DAY A slow afternoon. HYDE sits in his chair, ERIC sits on one end of the couch, and FEZ on the other. The boys are watching HOLLYWOOD SQUARES, though only Fez seems invested. FEZ: Elke Sommer to block. Elke Sommer to block. (it doesn’t work) Oh, you stupid son of a bitch! ERIC: (sighs) Donna loved Hollywood Squares. HYDE: Ah, Forman. Come on, man. Give it a rest, huh? So you’re single now. That’s a good thing! Now you’re like me, man. You’re free to be with lots of subpar, somewhat sleazy chicks. It’s Christmas, baby! FEZ: Oh, you disguise your heart, Hyde, but I know you need love. HYDE: Why’s that? FEZ: (beat) ‘Cause I need it. ERIC: (to Hyde) No, he’s right, man. I mean, Donna and I might have broken up, but you liked Jackie and you never even had her. You’re telling me that doesn’t hurt? HYDE: Come on, Forman. You didn’t think that was serious, did you? I was just settin’ up for the biggest burn ever on Kelso. ERIC: You got them back together. HYDE: (shrugs) Know when to fold ‘em, man. (stands) Now, hey – this Friday night, you’re coming out cruisin’ for chicks with me in the El Camino. Of course, if we meet anyone hot, I’m taking her, but I’m sure we can find you a girl just this side of gross. He claps Eric on the shoulder and exits through the basement door. ERIC: (to Fez) No. I don’t care what he says. That unholy little demon crush Hyde had on Jackie, that was real, and it hurts him that she’s back with Kelso. And just once, I wish we could catch him with his guard down about it, so we could make fun of him. We’d be all, “hey, Hyde...” He gestures wildly, looking for the right insult. ERIC (cont’d): “You really liked a girl and you blew it! Yeah, burn! Welcome to Hell!” (beat) Oh, God, I’m in Hell! He throws his head back and moans as Fez turns back to the TV.

MAIN CREDITS BUMPER INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY Early afternoon. Friday has come. KITTY sits at the kitchen table, going through one of many catalogues she has out. They all concern interior design. RED enters from the living room, sees Kitty reading. RED: What’s all this? KITTY: Hmm? Oh, well, I’ve been taking so much work for the church home with me, I’m thinking of turning one of the empty rooms we have into a workspace. RED: (beat) When you say “empty rooms,” are you counting my garage? KITTY: No. RED: Sounds great. I’ll find you a good, cheap contractor. KITTY: Oh, no, no, no, no. This is something I want to handle myself. RED: This is gonna be expensive, isn’t it? KITTY: Maybe. RED: Don’t you like anything cheap? KITTY: I like you. She smiles up at him. Red rolls his eyes and heads to the fridge for a beer. Eric enters from the basement and heads for the patio door. ERIC: Hey. Hyde and I are going tonight. KITTY: Oh, good. I asked Jackie over for some decorating help, so it’ll be nice for Steven to have something to do on a Friday night without his girlfriend. ERIC: Mom, we keep telling you, Jackie is not... He recognizes the opening for a burn, and he takes it. ERIC (cont’d): ... Ever going to pass up a chance to share her knowledge of interior design, and if that means giving up a date night – well then, that’s just a sacrifice Hyde will have to make. Kitty chuckles and smiles at him. He grins back and heads out the patio door. CUT TO: EXT. HUB PARKING LOT – DAY Most of the lot is taken up by a promotional booth and table for WFPP, and a white-and-green Volkswagen Samba. MAX stands by the table with a clipboard in hand. DONNA and her co-worker MELISSA man the booth, its speakers blaring out rock music. KELSO and BOB circle admiringly around the Samba as a few other interested parties place hands on it. KELSO: Oh, man! (to Bob) Oh, I hope I win this van! I really need a place to do it with Jackie. He grins and turns back to the Samba, oblivious to Bob’s discomfort. At the booth, Melissa nudges Donna with her elbow. MELISSA: Check out that idiot’s ‘fro. She points to Bob and chuckles. DONNA: That’s my dad. MELISSA: Oh! Uh... DONNA: No... okay, yeah, you’re right. They laugh as Max crosses over to the crowd around the van. MAX: Okay, listen up, everybody. Welcome to the WFPP Hand 2 Van giveaway. The rules are simple: you place one hand on the van. If you remove your hand for any reason, you’re out. Last person to remove his hand wins the van. Those interested, including Bob and Kelso, place a hand on the Samba. MAX (cont’d): Any questions? One DUPE raises his hand – the hand he had on the van. MAX (cont’d): You’re out. The dupe slinks away. MAX (cont’d): Any other questions? A disreputable-looking character with a bad moustache approaches – DANIEL. DANIEL: Don’t start without me, Max. MAX: Oh, God. Slowly, confidently, Daniel makes his way around the van until he stands across from Kelso and Bob. DANIEL: Hello. My name is Daniel, and I have won every WFPP contest since the Weber Gas Grill Trampoline Bounce of 1972. I am unbeatable. So, the choice is yours: joy or despair... pleasure or pain... He slips a glove onto his right hand and holds it up. DANIEL (cont’d): Life or death. He slaps his hand down on the Samba. DANIEL (cont’d): I am Daniel! And I cannot be beaten. He is determined, Bob is unnerved, and Kelso is giddy and slightly impressed. BUMPER EXT. ROAD – EVENING The El Camino is parked on the street in-between the Forman and Pinciotti homes. Hyde is at the wheel, Eric sits in the passenger’s seat, and Fez is wedged into the space in between. HYDE: Alright, boys, let’s hit the road. He starts up the car. FEZ: Hyde, when we cruise a girl, how long do we have to talk to them before they will french us? HYDE: That depends on what kind of girl you’re cruising for. Which is why I suggest you aim low. Real low. ERIC: Well, I’m already at the bottom of a black pit of despair, so I think I’m about as low as I can get. HYDE: (to Eric) Hey, none of that mopey crap, all right? (to Fez) And you, don’t come on all needy. You gotta be aloof. FEZ: (beat) Did you just call me a loof? Because if so, I will have to kick you in your nads. HYDE: No, man – aloof. Distant. Zen. FEZ: (beat) Well, that’s not what “loof” means in my language. HYDE: Look, I don’t care what you think it means, that’s what it means here. Now, come on – let’s ride. He shifts out of park, Fez turns on the radio, and off they go. CUT TO: MONTAGE, moving from evening to night. Set to “We Gotta Get You A Woman” by Todd Rundgren. Beginning on a side shot of the El Camino pulling up to a light. Hyde, Eric and Fez look out the passenger window, grinning and nodding at what they see. And what they see is, in succession: A) A SHORT-HAIRED BLONDE with pouty lips. BLONDE: I’m on my way to Bible study. You in? B) AN OLDER WOMAN. OLDER WOMAN: You with the curly hair – I think I used to date your dad. Isn’t that a turn-on? C) A LONG-HAIRED PRISSY GIRL. PRISSY: I don’t know... I usually only date guys who aren’t as good-looking as me. Otherwise, I’d never date. D) AN INTENSE GIRL. INTENSE GIRL: My boyfriend’s in jail, so I guess I could fool around. (beat) Wait... I think he just busted out... E) A BIG-TOOTHED REDHEAD. REDHEAD: You know, I’m workin’ the pedals here with just one real leg. Wanna guess which one it is? F) A MOUSY BRUNETTE, too paralyzed with fear to say anything. She giggles nervously and speeds off. END MONTAGE. It’s now dark outside. The El Camino idles in a parking space. Hyde is chill, but Eric and Fez both look disturbed. ERIC: Well, that was all... deeply unsettling. FEZ: (to Hyde) How many women who do not cause nightmares do you get in this way? HYDE: I’d say it averages out to nine chicks a month. Subtract the six who turn out psycho, the two who get too attached, and the one that ditches ya. ERIC: (beat) That comes to zero women. HYDE: (shrugs) Hey, I’ve still got the El Camino. He pats the dashboard as he brings his car into park. ERIC: I don’t know, Hyde. Does a car and nine no-gos a month really fill the void left by a certain tiny cheerleader? One shrill of voice and intolerable for the sane among us, but with a certain naïve charm that some curly-haired rebels just can’t resist? HYDE: Does a Vista Cruiser and a bitchy attitude make up for running off the hottest redhead in Wisconsin? He exits the car, leaving Eric to consider that. Fez leans forward to look out the still-open driver’s door and call after Hyde: FEZ: This is not over, Johnny Cool! (to Eric) Boy, what a loof. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – NIGHT Kitty and her catalogues have moved over to the stovetop. She stands over it with JACKIE at her side. Red sits at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich. KITTY: Thank you for helping me figure out what to do with my new workspace, Jackie. I’m sure you’d rather be out with your boyfriend on a Friday night, but - JACKIE: Oh, please. I needed a reason to get away tonight. I couldn’t take another second of hearing how we’ll be “hittin’ the road with his new wheels.” KITTY: (shakes head) Oh, don’t get me started on men and cars, we will be here all night. She laughs and opens up one of the catalogues. KITTY (cont’d): Now, most of what I do at the church is helping plan events and fundraisers, so I just need a nice little space to set up a desk and hunker down with the paperwork. Jackie nods agreeably. She picks up a catalogue and flips through it. At a certain page, she gasps and holds it up for Kitty to see. JACKIE: What about this? The Le Palais Bulles look. Pierre Cardin built his house like this on the French Riviera. Ocean view, bean bags for furniture, and the whole house is shaped like a bubble. KITTY: (beat) Okay, um... my house is shaped like a... like a house. A bean bag is not a desk. And we don’t have an ocean view. We don’t even have a Lake Michigan view. (laughs) Jackie considers this, turns back to the catalogue. JACKIE: Ooh, you could model your workspace after Priscilla Presley’s home. She’s got this giant gold chess set that shows off that she’s rich, but she’s also got those crochet patterns old ladies like. That’d be perfect for you, Mrs. Forman! She beams and bobs on her feet. Kitty gives her a fixed smile, glances around her to Red. He grins back. RED: How’s doing it yourself working out? He takes a big bite of her sandwich as Jackie calls Kitty’s attention to another design. BUMPER EXT. HUB PARKING LOT - NIGHT The Hand 2 Van contest goes on. A few have dropped out, but Bob, Kelso, and Daniel remain. Donna crosses to Bob and passes a tin and a pick to his free hand. DONNA: Here, Dad. Some mints and your Afro pick. BOB: Oh, thank God, Donna. My hair was starting to look silly. Donna smiles, gives Kelso a friendly jab on the shoulder, and heads back to the booth. Daniel follows her with his eyes the whole way. DANIEL: Hey, check out the redhead. BOB: That redhead is my baby girl, Donna. I’m her dad. DANIEL: I want Donna to call me “daddy.” Kelso’s jaw drops as Bob trembles with rage. Finally, he can’t take it anymore – he takes his hand off the van and advances on Daniel. BOB: That’s it! Max hurries over from the table. MAX: Ah, Bob! You took your hand off the van – you lose! Max shakes his head and walks away. Bob glares at Daniel. BOB: This isn’t over. DANIEL: It is for you. Now, get out of here. He nods his head toward the street. Bob stares him down for a moment, then slinks off to Max’s table. Daniel slides along the van to get right up in a grinning Kelso’s face. DANIEL (cont’d): And so begins the battle of wits. KELSO: Oh, man. I’ve never been good at wits. DANIEL: (flat) Really? BUMPER MUSIC NOTE: “Rockaway Beach by the Ramones. INT. HUB - NIGHT Between it being Friday night and the giveaway going on outside, the Hub is happening – lots of teens, and lots of them girls. “Rockaway Beach” plays on the jukebox. Donna and Melissa chat near the window, and a tall, stout, badly-dressed and poorly groomed girl with glasses struts the floor – at last, we meet BIG RHONDA. Hyde, Eric, and Fez enter. Donna crosses to them. DONNA: Hey, guys. What’s going on? HYDE: Quick pit stop. DONNA: Cool. There’s a keg behind the radio booth and the guy watching it isn’t checking I.D.s. The boys all nod and mosey on into the Hub. Hyde and Eric stop to talk to a DARK-HAIRED GIRL and her friends, but Fez’s eye lands on Big Rhonda, near the pinball machine. He crosses over to her. FEZ: So, you are the notorious Big Rhonda? RHONDA: Yep. That’s my name. You must be that little foreign cocoa puff. Fez nods, looks Rhonda over. She gives him a friendly slug on the shoulder. RHONDA (cont’d): Hey, wanna join me in hittin’ that keg outside? First one to down five cups buys me a hot dog. Fez raises his eyebrows, intrigued. He allows Rhonda to lead him outside. Near the bathroom door, Hyde and Eric chat up the dark-haired girl, who leans against the wall. DARK-HAIRED GIRL: It’s not like head cheerleader’s always the most talented, but in my case, it’s true. Neither of the boys has an answer to that. The girl leaves them to re-join her friends. ERIC: (to Hyde) God, would you look at her? Small, dark, and shallow. Hey, just your type, Hyde. HYDE: Looks like your type’s being picked up. He points over Eric’s shoulder. Eric looks, sees Donna chatting with a good-looking guy. Deflated, Eric sighs, wanders over to a round table and leans against it. He doesn’t even notice the cute girl, KATIE, sitting there. She looks up at him and smiles. KATIE: Hey. Eric doesn’t respond. KATIE (cont’d): So... that Hand 2 Van contest, huh? ERIC: Yuh-huh. KATIE: And the words kind of sound alike, so that’s always fun. ERIC: Look – no offense, but I’m really not in the mood for talking. I just broke up with my girlfriend, so… KATIE: Aww... you poor thing. She puts a hand on his arm. KATIE (cont’d): You know, you have these sad lips that are just so hot. ERIC: (beat) Really? He pulls up a chair and sits across from Katie. FADE TO BLACK COMMERCIAL BUMPER INT. HUB – NIGHT Picking up right where we left off. “Come On, Come On” by Cheap Trick now plays on the jukebox. Hyde chats with Melissa near the counter. Eric is still at the table with Katie. Fez and Rhonda have come back in from the keg and stand near the pinball machine. RHONDA: This summer, I’m going to visit my aunt in Mississippi. FEZ: Oh, you’re going away? That is sad. RHONDA: Hey, you should come with me, chocolate milk! She slaps him on the chest and downs what’s left of the beer in her cup. At their table, Katie pulls her seat in closer to Eric, so that they’re right next to each other. KATIE: When I looked up and saw you, I saw a guy who was wounded. The guy who sits in the dark, waiting for the light to find him again. At that moment, Donna comes in from the contest. She sees Eric and Katie, and Eric sees her. ERIC: (to Katie) If only I could find this light you speak of, then maybe – just maybe – my pain might go away. KATIE: Would it help if I held you? ERIC: I doubt it. (beat) But let’s try, Katie. They hug. ERIC (cont’d): Yeah, lower – yeah. Donna remains by the door, fuming. Hyde takes a sip from his red cup and looks Melissa over. HYDE: So, what do you do for fun? MELISSA: We’re in Wisconsin. So, nothing. HYDE: So you wouldn’t want to do something some time? MELISSA: Sorry. I did something last night, and I already made plans for some time. She moves around him, brushing his shoulder with hers as she walks, and heads outside. Fez and Rhonda have taken over an empty table. Fez stands on it and raises his red beer cup high. He’s not exactly steady on his feet. FEZ: A toast: to all my good friends. I will miss you when I blow out of this burg with the beautiful Big Rhonda. He actually picks up some applause. FEZ (cont’d): Now, it’s off to Mississiphylis! He downs the rest of his beer. He slips off the table and is caught bridal-style by Rhonda. CUT TO: EXT. HUB PARKING LOT – NIGHT On goes the contest. Kelso and Daniel are all that’s left. Bob comes around the van with a coffee cup, hands it to Kelso. BOB: Here, Kelso. Thought you might need some coffee to keep you going. He exits, shooting Daniel a dirty look as he does so. Kelso quickly downs his coffee. DANIEL: (to Kelso) Hey, you know what would be fun? Seeing which one of us could drink the most coffee, huh? Kelso laughs and nods. DANIEL (cont’d): Oh, no. You’ll just lose. KELSO: No, I would not. I could so beat you! DANIEL: Well, I doubt that. KELSO: Oh, you’re goin’ down! TIME LAPSE Moments later. Kelso drains a cup of coffee and throws it down in triumph. KELSO: That’s my six to your one! DANIEL: Yeah, you really whipped me. Kelso, you ever been to Niagara Falls? KELSO: Uh-uh. DANIEL: Don’t you like the soothing sound of water? KELSO: Yeah, I guess. DANIEL: You ever sat beside a babbling brook, listening to the beautiful, steady stream of water? KELSO: Well, I – okay, I don’t know if you realize this, but all this talk about water’s really making me have to go pee. DANIEL: Oh, yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. Yeah, I can see that “urine” a lot of pain. KELSO: Yeah, well, you better shut up, ‘cause you’re gonna have to go too. DANIEL: That’s where you’re wrong: I am going. He pulls up his pant leg, revealing a thermos strapped to his ankle with a tube stretching up into his pants. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - NIGHT The decorating continues, and not well. Red is still at the kitchen table, now reading a newspaper. Kitty leans on the stovetop, trying to keep calm. Jackie is the only one still upbeat as she keeps flipping through catalogues. JACKIE: Ooh, what about this one, Mrs. Forman? (shows Kitty) Barbara Streisand has a big desk next to the antique armchair. And just look at that chandelier. KITTY: (beat) A chandelier? What am I going to do with a chandelier? There are two rooms in this house that I could use as a workspace, and neither one is even tall enough for a chandelier! JACKIE: Okay, I’m sensing you’re not in love with the chandelier. (flips through catalogue) Oh, but Lee Raziwill has this gorgeous - Kitty takes the catalogue from Jackie and shuts it. KITTY: Okay, okay – I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll just bring in a contractor to set up my workspace. RED: And there it is. He folds up his newspaper and checks his watch. RED (cont’d): And hey, it didn’t even take as long as I thought. He grins at a pouting Kitty, stands, and exits into the living room. KITTY: Oh, well. Thank you anyway, Jackie, for all the help you were... you were trying to give. Tell you what – the night’s still young. Why don’t you go see if you can catch up with your boyfriend? JACKIE: Yeah, I should probably check on Michael, see how that radio giveaway’s going. KITTY: (beat) Michael? Honey, you mean Steven. JACKIE: No, I mean Michael. KITTY: But I thought you were going to check on your boyfriend. JACKIE: Yeah... Michael is my boyfriend. We got back together weeks ago. Steven’s the one who made sure we made things up. Kitty jaw goes slack as she stares at Jackie. KITTY: You’re back together with Michael? All the time you kids spend in my house, and no one tells me anything! She shakes her head and throws up her hands. CUT TO: INT. HUB - NIGHT The jukebox now plays “Sweet Talkin’ Woman” by the Electric Light Orchestra. While Eric and Katie continue to chat (and Donna continues to fume), Hyde leads Fez by the shoulder toward the door, just of out earshot of Rhonda, who is scarfing down hot dogs at a table near the pinball. FEZ: I know I just met her, Hyde, but I love her. She is sturdy. I want to climb her. HYDE: Man, you are desperate to give it away. FEZ: Yes. Yes I am. HYDE: Okay, Fez, time for a little advice. First: if a chick outweighs you by thirty pounds, you’re in for trouble. FEZ: Oh, I’ll put on weight. I’ll bridge the gap. HYDE: And that brings me to my second point: when used separately, chicks and booze are a lot of fun. But mix ‘em up, and you end spending your summer ass-deep in a swamp down south in Dixie. Fez looks down in thought as Hyde pats him on the back. Eric and Katie have moved into the booth seat. Eric briefly glances at Donna as Katie rubs his back. ERIC: (to Katie) If you really think that putting my head on your lap will make me feel better... I mean, I guess I should try. He adjusts himself so that he can lie down in the booth seat with his head in Katie’s lap. DONNA: All right, that’s it. (to Katie) Excuse me? Hi. I have some information - Eric shoots upright. ERIC: (to Katie) No, don’t listen to what she’s... I’m... she’s the one who hurt me! DONNA: Uh-huh. Yeah. He dumped me. KATIE: (gasps) You dumped her? ERIC: Well, I had to. She wouldn’t... she wouldn’t take my ring. KATIE: (to Donna) You wouldn’t take his ring? DONNA: This is none of your business! (to Eric) And you are a sad little man. Katie looks at Eric with much less sympathy, and he squirms uncomfortably in his seat. CUT TO: EXT. HUB PARKING LOT - NIGHT A short time later. The contest is still ongoing between Kelso and Daniel. Max and Bob still man the table, while Donna and Melissa watch from the booth. But there’s a new presence in the lot: Jackie is at Kelso’s side, talking. JACKIE: Michael, this is so much nicer than your old van. I mean, this pea-soup green is – ugh – but with a little paint job - KELSO: You mean, like a mural, or like the Mystery Machine? Either way, I’m there! JACKIE: (nods) Yeah, you could have an eagle, soaring majestically over the clouds, or a wild stallion charging through the desert. KELSO: I bet ya Fez would like that one! But it might give him some ideas... He and Jackie both wince at what kind of “ideas” he’s talking about. KELSO (cont’d): Oh, what about one of those wizards surrounded by fire? Daniel leans his head against the van. The conversation’s getting to him. JACKIE: No, wait Michael, I’ve got it. The mural should be about – me! DANIEL: Oh, my God. KELSO: (to Jackie) Yeah, I could totally see you airbrushed on the side of the new Shaggin’ Wagon! Would you wanna be in your black dress or your new bikini? JACKIE: Why are those my only choices? I have so many mural-worthy outfits to choose from. KELSO: I guess that’s true. Like your lavender top with the dark gold scarf for winter. JACKIE: Or my bottleneck paired with my red beret. KELSO: Or your cheerleading uniform. JACKIE: Or my - DANIEL: Oh, my God! He turns to face them. DANIEL (cont’d): I can’t take it anymore! (mocking) “What should we paint the van? Shouldn’t it be me? What should I wear?” He lets go of the van with both hands to grab Jackie and cover her mouth. DANIEL (cont’d): SHUT UP! But that’s Max’s cue. With a portable transmitter and microphone on him, he jumps up and crosses to the van. MAX: And we finally have a winner! Daniel, in shock, releases Jackie, while Kelso hops up and down, still not letting go of the van. Donna and Melissa cross to Bob, and they all applaud. KELSO: I did it! Oh, my God, I won! (to Daniel) Who’s the best? I’m the best! Loser! DANIEL: I’m not a loser, okay? I win everything. I don’t lose, I win! Because I’m a winner! He slowly slinks away, calling back as he exits: DANIEL (cont’d): I’m a winner! With him gone, Max adjusts the transmitter and crosses to Kelso and Jackie. MAX: So, Michael Kelso, tell Wisconsin how it feels to be WFPP’s new Hand 2 Van winner. He holds out the microphone for Kelso, who leans in. KELSO: Well, I guess I have to say it like this, Max: if this van’s a-rockin’, we’re in there doing it. JACKIE: Michael! KELSO: Oh, I’m sorry. I’m doing it with Jackie Burkhart! Max, Bob, Donna, and Melissa all shake their heads as Jackie slaps Kelso in the chest. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – NIGHT A short time later. Kitty is still up, back at the kitchen table with her catalogues. A portable radio, shut off, is on the table too. Eric and Hyde enter through the patio door. KITTY: Hello, boys. Eric keeps walking, all the way to the basement, but Hyde stops at the kitchen table. HYDE: Hey, Mrs. Forman. What are you doing up so late? KITTY: Oh, just getting a few things together to show the contractor. (taps the catalogue page) You know, I do like this wallpaper Lee Radziwill used here. Guess Jackie had the right idea after all. (laughs) HYDE: You had Jackie over? KITTY: Uh-huh. HYDE: (looks left and right) She still around? KITTY: No, she went to go check on Michael. (taps radio) He just won the van giveaway. They cut the broadcast when Jackie started yelling at him for... well, for saying what they’d be doing in the van. HYDE: Huh. He leans on the back of a chair as he looks off into space. Kitty looks up at him in sympathy, pats his hand. KITTY: That was a very selfless thing you did, getting them back together. I can only imagine how hard that was for you. Hyde stirs; he realizes his guard’s down. KITTY (cont’d): It didn’t really sink in until now, did it? HYDE: What? No! Come on, man, that’s – pfft! Like I care. He shrugs, jabs at the air. Kitty sees through the display. She stands, brings Hyde’s head down for a kiss on the cheek, and pats him on the shoulder before exiting into the living room. Once she’s gone, Hyde takes his sunglasses off. He runs a hand down his face and stares off again. Eric comes running back in from the basement. ERIC: Oh, YES! Burn, baby, burn! He points and snickers as Hyde scowls. FADE TO BLACK CREDITS INT. HUB – NIGHT The crowd has finally thinned out. It’s now just Rhonda, Fez, and Donna at a round table. FEZ: (to Rhonda) Rhonda, I cannot go to Mississippi. RHONDA: (tearing up) So, you’re not coming? FEZ: I’m sorry. But maybe we can go to the movies sometime. RHONDA: And make out in the theater? Yeah! Call me. She kisses Fez on the cheek and struts out the door. DONNA: (to Fez) Good God, sober up, man. FEZ: Oh, screw it, Donna. Fez likes them big, Fez likes them small, Fez likes them all. Donna laughs and claps him on the arm. END.

#z's fics #that 70s show #zenmasters #jackie x hyde #zen3to5 #fan fiction #fan script

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shankmyman · 4 years ago

Text

Frank roams Ormond, taking some time to think. He tosses his knife into a tree and it sticks by the blade.

A small startled yelp could be heard from behind the tree. A long, scaly, blue and orange spotted tail was visible from the side of the base of the tree. Frank narrows his eyes and goes to grab it, peeking around the side of the tree. A 5'5 blue and orange lizard could be seen behind the tree. She wore some weird dark blue clothing. The lizard looked fairly confused about... everything.

Frank smirks. "Hello there. Are you lost~?" He apologizes for almost hurting her.

"Hi! My names shuya!" Shuya exclaimed, "I am quite lost! Where am i? And whats your name?" Shuyas tail was wagging side to side.

He smiles at her, removing his mask.

"I'm Frank. It's a pleasure to meet you. You're in the realm of the entity now. Welcome~"

"Hi frank! Whats the entity? What is this place? What's on your neck?" Shuya asked, she seemed to be chock-full of questions and she didn't seem to sense franks flirty nature. Frank tries his best to explain.

"This is Ormond. Not sure what the entity is-it's kind of like a god. This thing on my neck is a tattoo."

"Whats a tattoo? Why am I here? Why am I asking so many questions?" Shuya asked, shuya obviously had a couple screws loose in her noggin.

Frank sighs softly, explaining as much as he knew to her.

"Alright! My knowledge is quenched for now!" Shuya exclaimed, "this place is weird. Thats a cool knife. Why is it so cold here?"

Frank doesn't bother to answer her question on why it's cold, hoping that the landscape of snow would give her all the knowledge she needed. Shuya looked at the ground.

"Oooooh! Its snowy! I don't like it. I'm really cold. Is there anywhere thats warm and comfy?" Shuya asked frank. Frank takes her hand and leads her into the lodge, where a massive bonfire is burning in the middle of the floor. Joey is smoking weed (as usual) Julie is sitting around with Susie and humming softly.

Shuyas eyes went wide before she ran over to the fire and sat down right in front of it. Her tail was wagging like a fucking maniac.

"Its so warm!!" Shuya exclaimed. Jake shakes his head. Frank smiles and tosses a blanket around her shoulders. "It is, isn't it?"

"It is! Oh yeah! Hi my names shuya! Whats your names?" Shuya asked the other members of the legion as she practically turned into a blanket burrito. Joey ignores her but Susie and Julie introduce themselves. Frank then introduces Joey.

"Hi Susie! Hi Julie! Is Joey mute? I have a friend who is mute, he's cool! And purple. And he has antlers. And he liked fish. He was great." Shuya rambled.

Frank shrugs. "He doesn't talk a lot."

"Okay!" Shuya said smiling. She was sitting yet she was always moving. She was just full of energy, it was like she ate an entire bag of candy in 2 seconds.

Joey hits that blunt. "Hey, you guys know that rings are just short straws?"

"Whats a straw?" Shuya asked joey, she was extremely confused on what the hell a straw was. Joey hits it again. "An elongated ring."

"Oooh! Like this but longer?" Shuya asked as she took this silver ring decorated with various glistening gems and pointed at it.

Joey nods. "Ye."

"Who would want such a long ring? You can't close your hand then." Shuya asked as she put the ring back on her hand.

"You drink through it." Frank chuckles.

"Why? Can't you just drink straight from the cup?" Frank shrugs. "I...don't know."

"Well its dumb. Just drink from the cup. Whatever if you get a couple splinters from the damn thing, its made of wood and you should be careful with it." Shuya said putting the blanket over her head.

Frank shrugs again. "People are weird."

"More like humans are weird... oh yeah, I'm hungry, is there something I can eat?" Shuya asked frank, "I haven't eaten in 3 days."

Frank shrugs. "You...don't really need to eat here."

Shuya gasped.

"What do you mean you don't have to eat???" Shuya asked extremely panicked, "thats the best part of the day! There's so many good foods! Elk! Bear! People! They all are so good! I refuse to believe that eating isn't necessary!"

Frank laughs. "People? Oh my, are you in luck. You can eat people here if you want to. We eat for taste, not because it gives us anything."

Shuyas face lit up immediately.

"Really???" Shuya asked happier than before, "YAY! Where are these people I can eat?"

Frank laughs.

"Oi, Spider god. You mind bringing us one?" The entity's tendrils pull a wriggling, fighting Dwight up through the ground and deposit him at their feet. "Here you are. An appetizer." He smirks. Shuya started to jump up and down in glee. She jumped onto dwight and started to eat the poor man like a rabid dog except with opposable thumbs.

Dwight's wails of agony make Joey come out of the lodge to watch. He tries to fight back, but his throat is soon torn out and he can't yell any longer, his cries turning to gurgles and then to silence. Shuya continued to devour the poor dudes body before she was satisfied. She ate a shit ton of the dude.

"He was delicious!" Shuya exclaimed as she jumped up and down in absolute excitement. Dwight's mangled body slowly begins to disintegrate after he dies. His arms and thighs were chewed down to the bone, and the skin of his face was torn apart, parts of his skull showing. His stomach had been totally torn apart, and his guts spread around him. The mess vanished completely.

Frank pats Shuya's back with a bright smile. "Nice." He couldn't help but feel a bit turned on by that sight. Damn. She'd absolutely decimated Dwight. He kind of wanted that. Shuya smiled wide.

"Thank you! But isn't anything like the time I killed a person, ate most of their body in front of one their friends, and framed the other friend for the murder." Shuya said looking at frank.

Frank smirks. "That's kind of hot. I've killed a lot of people too." He says it proudly, smiling softly.

"... no it wasn't hot, it was lukewarm at best that day." Shuya said bluntly.

Frank laughs. "That's...not what I meant." He goes back inside to sit down. Shuya followed frank back inside and sat next to the blanket. She didnt want to get the blanket bloody so she hoped the blankets warmth would just go over to her. The blood on her slowly disintegrates, and leaves her clean. Frank goes off somewhere to do something. Shuya looked at the flames for a bit.

"Hey... where did frank go?" Shuya asked. Joey snickers.

"Probably to jack off. He likes watching people get killed."

"What... what is that?" Shuya asked as she cocked her head to the side, "I have no idea what that is."

He takes his hand and makes the motion above his groin just once. "You know-?"

"Uh... What?" Shuya was even more confused now, "that didn't help me understand that at all."

He honestly doesn't know how else to explain it. "Male masturbation."

"Whats that????" Shuya asked even more confused, "im so confused..."

Joey gives up.

"Sorry, it's hard to explain."

"Im so confused... why are humans so weird..." shuya groaned.

"You right. But I dunno why. It's kind of irritating." Joey offers her his blunt. "Wanna try? No pressure." "What is it?" Shuya asked looking at the blunt of the good kush.

Joey explains."Drugs. Not addictive, just makes you feel all floaty and calm. Helps clear the head. You don't have to smoke if you don't want to."

"Whats a drug?" Shuya asked, holy shit was she oblivious to the world and its things. Joey sighs, and can't help thinking 'oh fuck, here we go again'

"It's a substance that causes pleasure when taken. There are worse drugs. This is called Marijuana. Or Weed. Or skunk. It's got lotsa names." He takes another hit, and blows it out his nose.

"No thank you but why do you use it?" Shuya asked.

Joey shrugs. "Keeps me calm. I've got a bad temper, and I anger easily. I'm just a better person when I do."

"Well if it makes you a better person and you aren't hurting anyone out of anger than you do you joey!" Shuya gave Joey a thumbs up and a smile. Joey smiles at her and gives her a thumbs up. Shuya went back to just being warm in blankets, Waiting for something exciting to happen.

Shuya got annoyed by the long time without things happening so she went off to go find frank. Perhaps he was done with what the fuck he was doing.

Frank wasn't done with his work, and when she opens the door he just looks up at her. "You kidding me? Can you knock?" He has his dick out, and had stopped mid-fap. Shuya cocked her head to the side.

"Okay," shuya said before she knocked on the door, "im bored. Wanna go do things?"

"lemme finish first." He nods at her. "Then we can go kill some survivors."

"Okay!" Shuya said before she closed the door and went back to the bonfire.

"That was weird. You humans are so weird." Shuya said as she sat down.

Joey can't help but crack up. Frank comes downstairs after a few more minutes, sighing softly. "Alright, let's go kill some bitches."

Shuya jumped up from the ground and cheered

"Yay! Let's go!" Shuya exclaimed before she ran out the building. Frank grins and runs after her, knife in hand. Shuya stopped.

"Wait... i have no idea where I'm going..." shuya whispered to herself.

Frank takes shuyas hand and leads her along.

"This way. We're gonna fight someone I hate." The other 3 members of the legion run up behind them, all laughing and chatting behind him.

"What did they do?" Shuya asked, "why do you hate them?" Shuya wanted to make sure that she wasn't gonna eat someone she was gonna regret eating.

"They're pricks. The dude broke my nose with a brick. And the girl beat me within an inch of my life." He snickers. "They're gonna come back to life, so don't worry about butchering them. That's part of the fun~" he hums and walks with her towards the shack. Shuya decided to go on ahead. She started to run but she tripped on a rock and fell into the fire. Shuya started to scream as she scrambled out of the fire, her clothes turning to char and her scales and flesh burning. Frank frowns.

"Hmm. That's gonna leave a mark." Philip runs away, afraid because he was literally made of wood. Frank reaches into the fire, grabbing her arm and trying to pull her out, but her flesh comes off in his hand, leaving the bones of her forearm bear.

"Oh." He drops the handful of charred flesh and sighs softly. "Well, she'll come back. I'll just end her suffering." He stabs her right in the forehead, breaking through her skull with brutal strength and twisting the knife, killing her almost immediately. Seconds later shuya showed back up in the campfire. She looked kinda dazed yet overall okay.

"Why'd you stab me??" Shuya yelled before she kicked frank lightly in the leg, "don't yall have a healer around here??" Shuya was getting more and more angry. Frank sighs.

"You were cooking. And I thought it would be best to end your pain." He frowns. "We don't have a healer, no. We just reincarnate."

Shuya lightly kicked frank again.

"Im gonna go do some recon, ill be back in a bit." Shuya said still pretty ticked. Shuya left to go to the area they were going to.

Frank nods, and fucks around with his gang. Shuya found the shack and knocked on the door.

"Hello?" Shuya asked. Annabell heard the knock.

"Someone new? I don't recognize that voice." Annabell muttered.

Jake looks to the door and shyly peeks his head out of it. "Hello?" Jake came face to face with shuya.

"Hello! I'm new around here and I was just meeting the other people here!" Shuya said with a smile. Annabell kept her eyes on jake to make sure he was gonna be okay. Jake gasps.

"Woah! I've never seen anyone quite like you before!" He seems mystified. "Your scales are rather pretty." He smiles brightly. "Welcome! I'm Jake...this is Annabell. And this is our home!"

"Thank you!" Shuya thanked jake before she took a look inside to see annabell on the bed, "wait a minute... i know you. You're the slave master killer in Vendar?" Shuya asked annabell. Annabell narrowed her eye.

"Yeah, what about it?" Annabell asked.

"Nothing! I was just wondering if I knew the right person!" Shuya said with a smile, " oh yeah, im shuya!" Annabell didnt trust this lizardfolk.

"Perhaps you should leave... we were in the middle of something important." Annabell said hoping that jake would get the whole 'dude i don't trust her'. Jake senses it and sighs softly.

"Ah...sorry....." He walks back to Annabell's side, hugging the doll he had in his arms.

"Its alright!" Shuya said before she went back to the campfire, "So uh... i don't think we should beat them up." Shuya told the legion. Frank frowns.

"And why not?" He had put his mask on, and was tossing his knife into a stump at his feet, then retrieving it, and doing it again.

"2 reasons," shuya said raising a hand with two fingers up, "1. They were cuddling and that just disrespectful to kill them, 2. The woman in there is a serial killer from where I'm from and she is pretty serious, she like... who's a really big serial killer known for stealing peoples body parts and turning them into jewelry and is somewhat cannibalistic?" Frank shrugs.

"I mean, where we're from, we four are a group of serial killers." He says it proudly. "We'd killed a decent amount of people before we got here, and the body count just keeps getting higher, trial after trial." He scoffs. "Besides, we reincarnate. Why should we care if she hurts us?"

"She's known for holding a grudge... she killed the person who got her into the slave system almost a decade after escaping slavery..." shuya said.

"pretty sure she already hates me. If you don't wanna do it, then we will." A half hearted "yeah!" Comes out of Susie.

"So what if she hates you? You can just ignore her and her boyfriend. You don't have to even associate with them if you don't want to." Shuya said trying to difuse the situation.

"no, that's not possible. If he gets matched with me in a trial, I have to kill him." He sighs. "the situation's gonna happen either way. Besides. I hate em."

"I'm sure she understands the whole situation of being forced to kill people that you would rather not," shuya said, "i could talk to her if you would like." Frank growls lowly.

"I enjoy it very much, thank you."

"... frank. I will tell the entire group what I saw if you fucking go over there and hurt them. Apperantly that's disgusting to humans so yeah." Shuya threatened. Frank shrugs.

"Bold of you to assume they havent seen me doing that before."

"Bold of you to assume that I still have an idea what you were doing and why." Shuya said to try to change the subject.

"I was pleasuring myself." He humms, not really giving a fuck because he knew he was a disgusting person.

"WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?" Shuya yelled in pure confusion, "THE MONASTERY DIDNT PREPARE ME FOR THIS!"

Frank laughs. "Yeah, if you were at a monastery you wouldn't know. Do you even know what sex is?"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT??" Shuya yelled even more confused.

Frank can't help cackling as he gives her a crude rundown of sex ed. If Sally could make a face, she'd be looking incredibly disgusted right about now.

Shuya was still not understanding.

"I still don't understand!" Shuya yelled, "that sounds fake and if it was real it sounds painful and dumb!"

"Want me to show ya-?" Frank laughs, but Joey grabs the back of his hoodie and pulls him back. he'd been leaning closer to Shuya.

"No! It sound painful and I bet it makes you shit out eggs!" Shuya yelled.

"it's not painful if ya do it right!" He laughs. "and you won't shit eggs-!"

"How do you know you virgin!" Shuya yelled.

"Bold of you to assume I haven't slayed coochie before!"

"BOLD OF YOU TO SAY THAT IN LEG EATTING DISTANCE!" Shuya yelled before she fucking dived and started to devour franks leg.

Frank moans. "Oh fuck yeah~"

Shuya stopped and moved a couple feet away.

"You know I thought you were kinda cute and nice but you're just another one of those people you find drunk at a tavern!" Shuya hissed, "i thought you were cool but you're really not!" Shuya then yelled what can be guessed is a slur in a different language. Frank frowns and sighs.

"Ok." He turns and leaves, limping away-heading back to the lodge. "Ugh..." He didn't show it, but that really hurt. Shuya had a 'holy shit that worked' moment. She felt accomplished yet... disappointed. She was sad that the first person she met in this realm ended up being a dick. Shuya walked away from the campfire, found an uninhabited area and claimed it for herself while Frank runs off to hide so he can cry. Shuya made a small shelter and she felt... really sad. Shuya shook her head and went back to her business. She made a small campfire. The teen killer bandages up his wound, sterilizing it so that he wouldn't get any kind of infection. The pain makes him wail, but he recovers rather quickly. Shuya sat next to her small fire, she felt bored and just... no, no no, he was a dick so she shouldn't go find him and apologize... she went and started to look for frank. Frank was sitting silently in the lodge, wiping the occasional tear from under his mask. Shuya knew she wasn't gonna be welcome in the lodge after what just happened but it was the only place she thought he would go. Shuya attempted to scale the side of the building with no windows nearby. Frank didn't care regardless and lays down on his mattress, facing the wall and trying to fall asleep. He didn't bother trying to remove his mask. Shuya got to the balcony and snuck through the place. She found frank and she started to regret even coming into vicinity of the building. She walked over and sat down quietly.

"Im sorry, frank." Shuya apologized to frank. He ignores her completely, pulling the blanket tighter to his body. "I didnt mean any of it... i was angry and... i take full responsibility for what happened... im... really sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?" Shuya felt extremely guilty for everything.

"Nothing, go away." His voice cracks halfway through the sentence, and trails off at the end like it was difficult got him to speak. "Im not leaving," shuya said, "youre hurting and I don't want you to." Shuya set a hand on franks shoulder gently. He flinches away at the touch.

"Just leave."

"... when you're ready, come find me... im not that far from the campfire..." shuya said before she left through the window and went back to her new place.

Frank continues his ugly crying fit until he's done, and then takes a nap while Shuya went under her little shelter and laid down. Soon enough, Frank goes to see Shuya. He's limping rather badly, and hides it badly. Shuya was sitting in front of her little fire. She looked up to see frank, obviously limping.

"Hey frank, welcome to my new home." Shuya said as she stood up. He flinches a little bit as she stands up, growling softly. "Urgh."

"How about we sit down," shuya suggested, "maybe that will make talking easier." Frank plops down across from her with a pained sigh. Shuya sat back down.

"I need to ask, you don't seem to care what people think of you yet... why did my words hurt you?" Shuya asked. Frank sighs.

"I don't know."

Shuya sighed.

"Im... really really sorry," Shuya apologized, "I didn't really mean any of it, I just wanted to make sure you didn't do something you would regret... but I ended up doing something I regret... could you ever forgive me?"

Frank shakes his head.

"It's fine." He sighs. "I'll live. And I don't regret." He frowns, slipping off his mask. He looked like he'd been crying, and his nose was running so he wipes it away on the back of his hand. Shuya crawled over, sat down next to him, and hugged him.

"I don't think you're okay." Shuya said as she raised a hand up to the side of franks face. Frank sighs. "Don't pity me." He flinches at the touch of her hand on his cheek. "Pity? I don't think I'm pitying you," shuya said as she lightly rubbed the side of franks face with her thumb, "i think im comforting you. There's a difference, like stalking someone and regularly breaking into their house."

Frank sighs. "You wouldn't comfort someone you didn't feel bad for." He can't admit it, but he did like her gentle touch.

"Would you rather be pityed and comforted or not pityed and alone?" Shuya asked. He frowns. "You...got me there..."

"Nobody wants to be alone," shuya said, "even the most serious of people need to have someone to talk to." Frank goes silent and lets himself relax. "I'm sorry for saying such nasty things to you...before."

"To be honest I don't even remember what we were yelling about. I only remember you being sad and me being mad. I don't remember alot of things." Shuya said. Frank nods.

"We both said some rather mean things."

"What did I say?" Shuya asked genuinely curious about what she said.

"you bit my leg, I moaned, and then you told me that I was 'just like the men at the tavern'. And then you cussed me out in another language." He sighs. "After you asked what you caught me doing... I tried to explain, but you're really dense..." He speaks rather angrily, not quite realizing how mean he sounded. "... I don't remember any of that, and you sound really mad," Shuya said as she put her hand down, "but I guess you're right about the dense part, my old leader joy would yell at me because I didn't understand my part of the plans sometimes." Frank calms his voice.

"Sorry. You didn't deserve that outburst." He sighs and looks away.

"its okay!" Shuya said, "sometimes you just gotta yell." Shuya smiled. Frank nods and just sighs.

"Ugh."

"What wrong?" Shuya asked, She was still pretty energetic. Frank shrugs.

"My leg hurts. And not in the good way."

"This is why we have healers! Oh wait... we don't have any healers here..." shuya said.

Frank nods, chuckling softly.

"Are we gonna have to cut your leg off?" Shuya asked.

Frank shakes his head. "You could kill me."

"... oh yeah!" Shuya exclaimed before she tackled frank and absolutely decimated the dude. Frank stays still, trying not to moan as she tears him to bits.

Shuya continued to eat frank, she didnt even notice any sound coming from frank. He soon dies, laying there underneath her.

Shuya didn't seem to notice that frank was dead until it turned to dust.

"Awww..." shuya groaned as she stood up.

Frank stumbles around to the campfire, dazed from having been killed. He rubs his head and groans.

Shuya turned around to see frank, dazed and stumbling. Shuya ran up and hugged him.

"Heyyy!" Shuya exclaimed. Frank hugs her back tightly, if only to catch his balance.

"Hugs!" Shuya exclaimed before she blepped. Frank bleps back, laughing softly. Shuya smiled wide before she lightly headbutt frank before he laughs and gives her a light noogie. Shuya giggled. She tapped frank before running off.

"Tag you're it!" Shuya exclaimed as she run off. Frank laughs and gives chase. Shuya hid in a pretty good spot so she didn't have to run the whole time. She watched frank look for her for a bit. Frank plops down on the ground after awhile of searching.

Shuya snuck behind frank and tackled him.

"Hey Frank!" Shuya exclaimed, "that was fun!"

Frank laughs and nods. "Yeah!"

"Do you think the other would wanna play???" Shuya asked very excitedly, her tail going absolutely insane.

Frank laughs.

"Maybe! We'll see!"

Shuya jumped up and down in excitement.

"Lets go let's go!" Shuya exclaimed as she started running to the lodge. Frank makes pace easily with her. Shuya and frank made it to the lodge and shuya went into the lodge. She was asking them extremely fast but it was too fast and excited to even attempt to decipher her. Frank regurgitates a similar message, and both Julie and Joey jump at the opportunity, while Susie resolves to count scores.

Shuya was so excited and happy, she was practically vibrating in excitement. They start up the game. Joey is it, and he moves with frightening speed as he rushes towards Shuya. Julie hops up a tree and Frank runs away.

"Oh shit!" Shuya yelled before she ran off in a random direction. Hopefully the years of running around the monastery would keep her from getting caught. Joey rushes after her, laughing softly and tossing his knife into a tree. He uses it as a foothold and hops up into it, tackling Julie out of it. They land in a pile of leaves and Susie ticks it off. Julie runs off to try and catch either Frank or Shuya, searching through the brush like a predator. Shuya started to hide. She listened for footsteps and overall human sounds. Frank jumps out at her from the shadows. "Shhhhhh." Somehow he'd approached her silently.

Shuya stayed quiet.

"Why did you jump at me???" Shuya signed out.

"dunno." He signs back, laying beside her on the brush.

"Im guessing you're not it?" Shuya signed before she peeked around the tree.

Frank shakes his head. "not the case, my dear."

"So... you're it?" Shuya signed as she backed away a bit.

"no, I'm not. Julie is."

"You signed the wrong thing you stinky rat." Shuya signed with a smile, it wasn't really sure if she was joking about the stinky rat thing. Shuya moved back to where she was behind the tree. Frank feels insulted but doesn't betray it. "Rude." He says out loud. "Jules, she's over here!"

Shuya started to run in a random direction because holy shit she wasn't gonna lose. Frank gets tackled from behind by Julie. "Oof-"

Shuya ran past the campfire and stopped for a second.

"Hey...! Sorry about earlier...! Bye!" Shuya said out of breath before going back to running. Frank chases her, a stick in his hand. He seems frenzied, and bops her lightly over the head as he chases her.

"Hey! Don't hit me with a stick!" Shuya yelled at frank.

Frank smacks her again as he gets closer, then tosses it to the side and tackles her. They spin midair and it's Frank that hits the ground first.

"Owie..!" Shuya groaned, "oh no! Frank are you okay?"

Frank nods.

"Mhm. But you lost." He laughs softly.

"Technically I win because I was the last to get caught!" Shuya exclaimed with a smile. Frank frowns.

"You're right...fuck." he lets her go and just lays there. "shit."

"Yay! I win!" Shuya exclaimed but she noticed frank looking bummed out, "hey... whats wrong?" Shuya poked frank.

Frank shrugs. "Nothing. I'm a sore loser. Nice job."

"Well you got second! Thats still good!" Shuya said with a smile.

Frank shrugs. "Yeah, I guess."

Shuya smiled, stood up, and held her hand out.

"Wanna go back to the others?" Shuya asked with a friendly smile. Frank takes it and nods, standing up to follow her. Shuya kept holding franks hand when they got back to the others. Frank doesn't willingly let go of hers and whispers something that's barely auditable.

"Step on me."

"Huh?" Shuya was extremely confused, she barely heard him and wasn't sure if she heard him right, "what did you say?"

Frank hums. "Stop holding." He drops her hand.

"Oh sorry!" Shuya said as she stopped holding his hand. Frank smiles.

"It's ok." He goes back to the group and immediately gets locked into a noogie by Julie. Shuya skipped on over with a wide smile.

"That was alot of fun!" Shuya exclaimed.

Joey laughs. "yeah. It was." Frank tries to fend off Julie to no avail.

"I haven't ran that much since I angered joys dire wolf!" Shuya chuckled, "fenrir was always feisty!"

All four teens look confused by this. "Like...the Norse wolf titan, Fenrir?" Susie speaks up.

"Huh? No fenrir was big but he wasn't THAT big. He's only as tall as joey." Shuya said not understanding what's going on. Joey oohs. "Damn. That's a bigass dog."

"Yeah but fenrir wasn't the tallest in the group, not by a long shot. Our healer, galas is 8 feet tall. No joke, we measured." Shuya said with a smile. Frank oohs and climbs on Joey's back, making them both about as tall as Galas may have been. "Like this?"

"Yeah! Now the opposite of galas was our other healer, rabies. She was about... 3 feet tall? Something like that." Shuya was excited to talk about her friends. Frank settles down on Joey's back and hums softly.

"That's cool! Very short."

"Yeah, she had some fixation on 'flirting with people? She actually spent a night with the captain of the city guard in a city we were staying in. No idea what they were doing but she got info from him." Shuya said with a smile.

Frank snorts at that. "oH?!"

"Yeah she joined the group at the same time as a tabaxi named mikaela. She stole an entire stores products in the night once with the help of our leader joy. She got alot of money out of it though." Shuya said. After a while shuya ran out of people to talk about. The teens nod along with this story, Frank smiling at her the whole time.

"And that's the story of how Joy killed king Matias!" Shuya exclaimed, "anyways I think that's all the storys of my group of friends! Other than the stuff I promised joy to not talk about." Frank laughs softly and hops off Joey's shoulders to walk over and take Shuya's hand again. Shuya smiled and held onto franks hand.

"Im getting cold. I don't like being cold. I really don't like being cold. I wanna go back to a place with warmth." Shuya rambled about being cold. Frank takes his coat off and puts it around her shoulders. It was rather warm inside.

"Here, I'll take you back to the lodge."

"Ooo this is really warm. I like it! Actually I love it! Very warm. Alright, lodge time." Shuya said as she stood up, "time for warmth. Warm warm. Warmth time." Frank holds her gently to him as he walks, trying to keep in her warmth. Shuya was happy and getting warm. When they got back to the lodge shuya plopped down right in front of the bonfire. Frank sits beside her, smiling like a giddy child. Shuya curled into a scaly ball on the floor just enjoying franks jacket and the fires warmth. Frank lays down behind her to cuddle her. Shuyas tail finally stopped moving and she was now really calm. Frank holds her close to him, sighing contentedly. Shuya flipped herself to face frank and hugged him for more warmth. Shuya ended up resting her head on franks chest. Frank gently pats her head, holding her close.

Shuya smiled as she got head pats. She started to make some clicking noises, it was the lizard equivalent to purring. Frank smiles at this and holds her still closer, petting her head with one hand and holding her close by her waist with the other. Shuya looked up at frank and blepped again. Frank cuddles her gently, keeping her warm. Shuya lightly headbutt frank. Shuya slipped out of franks grasp and started running.

"Im not giving this back by the way!" Shuya yelled before she ran out the building laughing. Frank groans and just lays there. He'd loved having her in his arms, but...now she was gone, and he was cold. He curls up on the floor. He'd have to steal back his jacket sometime. Shuya stopped when she realized frank wasn't gonna chase her. Shuya frowned.

"I left warm area for nothing? Aww..." shuya groaned. Frank sits up and warms his hands at the fire, shivering a bit.

"Urgh...so fucking cold here-" Shuya walked back to find a very cold frank. She sneaked over to frank and hugged him from behind. He blushes, and then smiles at this.

"Heh~ thanks." He was shivering.

"Ill be right back." Shuya said as she ran over to franks bed, took the blanket, ran back, and wrapped the blanket around frank and herself. He pulls her into his lap, tucking his face into the nape of her neck. Shuya smiled as she wrapped the blanket like a loose burrito. She loved physical affection but she didnt really understand vocal affection. He holds her tightly, so incredibly touch starved that he longed for her touch. Shuya giggled as frank tightened his grip around her. Shuya didnt fully understand why frank was holding her so closely but she really liked the attention. Frank just hugs her, trying his best to keep himself from being horny to her and basically just cuddles her. He felt...strange around her. And not in a gross way. He felt warm, and fuzzy. She was like chicken soup for his soul. Shuya started to lizard purr/click again. Shuya was so happy in franks arms. Shuya poked franks nose.

"Boop!" Shuya said with a wide smile. He laughs softly, and pets her head, in awe at the feel of her scales under his fingertips. Shuya looked up at frank again.

"Hey frank? Have you ever met a lizardfolk other than me before?" Shuya asked. Frank tells her he hasn't, and leans his head against her neck.

"Really? I don't think my race is rare... did you live in a really cold place?" Shuya asked.

"Where I'm from, everyone's a human."

"Really??? That's so weird! Wait... if everyone's a human where are are from... why didn't you freak out when you saw me?" Shuya asked.

"I don't care. I thought you might've realized that by now-" he chuckles softly.

"I thought you mightve realized I'm not smart." Shuya said bluntly.

Frank shrugs. "Smarter than me, I'd say. Just a little slow with retaining information."

"... joy says I'm an idiot. But I'm fine with that." Shuya said.

"you're not an idiot." He insists. Shuya stared at him for a bit.

"... why do you think that?" Shuya asked.

"everyone has issues with some things. I just think you need a little more time than other people. That doesn't make you an idiot."

"Thats a good wisdom," Shuya said, "thank you for the wisdom." Frank kisses the back of her neck. "You're welcome. I mean it. I don't think you're an idiot."

"What did you just do?" Shuya asked.

"I kissed you." He smiles softly. "Sorry...was that too much?"

"Being kissed is weird... do it again." Shuya said looking up at frank. He does it again.

"Usually, if you kiss someone, you'd do it on the lips, but I think this way is rather nice, too."

"Why on the lips?" Shuya asked, "that sounds like it would just spread mouth germs."

"it's a thing people do when they like each other. It's an affectionate thing. I'm trying to show you that I like you." He blushes. "Maybe...I love you?"

"Why?" Shuya asked, "is spreading mouth germs affectionate?"

"no...it's..." He sighs softly and just ignores her question, he just didn't have a good answer, kissing her neck again. "Mmn."

"What does it mean when you get kissed on the neck?" Shuya asked.

"Erm...usually it's strong affection, also a bit because that's all I can reach of you." He smiles nervously, holding her gently in his lap. Shuya moved so she was facing frank and she was still on his lap.

"Does this make it easier for you?" Shuya asked. He blushes brightly.

"Ah...I mean...do you like being kissed like that?" He was getting flustered. This was bad. He didn't want to drive her away.

"I've never really been kissed before so this is all new for me." Shuya shrugged.

Frank sighs softly.

"But is it alright? Do you mind it or is it bad?"

"Being kissed on the neck? It was weird but its alright." Shuya said. Frank blushes.

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years ago

Text

Second Chances - Ch. 6

The Coming of the Storm

Warnings: swearing, angst, blood, violence

Word count: ~9650

Two weeks have gone by since your arrival to Horseshoe Overlook. The camp is now up and fully functional. When you haven’t been in camp helping Grimshaw or Pearson, you and Arthur have been out hunting. While most of the meat you get from hunting goes to Pearson, you and the outlaw often stop in Valentine to sell the pelts and horns of the bucks, rams and elk you’ve killed.

You head into Valentine now on Rain with Arthur and his paint horse, who he still hasn’t named, both loaded with pelts. You wrinkle your nose at the heavy odor of livestock animals all throughout the town. For some reason, the roads are always muddy. The people seem simple enough though. You’re sure if you had to go out robbing any of them, it would be easy enough.

You both bring your horses to a stop near the butcher’s outside the Saint’s Hotel and sell him your pelts. Arthur counts his money quickly, then declares he’s going to go into the shop and buy a few things. You agree to meet him in the saloon next to the shop.

You trudge your way through the thick mud and up the steps into the saloon. Since it’s late in the morning, it’s relatively empty, except for a couple of men at the poker table, and a couple more scattered throughout. One of them in the back near the barber looks like a trapper. He’s wearing a mountain of furs with a raccoon hat, his face covered by a wild, tangled beard.

You go to the bartender and order a shot of whisky while you wait for Arthur. Several moments go by, and the doors swing open. You turn to see if it’s him, but instead it’s two young men. From their clothes and the mud that splatters them, you’re sure they’re ranch hands. Probably brought in some livestock to sell and are here for a drink before they return to wherever they came from. They spot you on your lonesome leaning against the bar.

“Well, looky here, George,” one of them nudges the other. He stares at you, and the look in his eye makes you feel anxious. “Ain’t seen a fine thing like this in some time!”

The last word you would use to describe yourself would be ‘fine’, seeing as you haven’t had a proper bath in days. Your hair’s dishevelled, and your shirt and jeans are covered in dirt from hunting. You’re sure you don’t smell the best either.

“You’re sure right, Jeremiah!” the other one says, looking towards you as well. They both approach you, smiling.

“Hey there, little lady,” the one named Jeremiah says, leaning against the bar next to you as you shoot back your drink. “How much for me to get one afternoon with ya?”

You glare at him. “I ain’t a workin’ girl, mister. You want one of them, feast your eyes on the women over there,” you motion to the two girls standing at the back of the saloon, fanning themselves.

Jeremiah takes a step back to look at them, then he leans towards you again. “Who said I thought you was a workin’ girl?”

“I ain’t for sale, mister!” you snarl, turning to face him head on. “And I sure ain’t spending an afternoon with you, money or not.”

“Hey, that ain’t no way for a girl to talk,” George says, getting closer to you.

“Well, apparently I have to, since neither of you seem to understand the meanin’ of the word no.”

George��s face darkens and you can tell he’s thinking of hitting you. It’s a face you saw many times on your husband. You prepare to brace yourself.

“Easy there, fellers,” Arthur says, walking up from behind them, coming to stand next to you. His brow is heavy over his eyes, darkening them. “If you really want her, yer gonna have to go through me.”

The two men size Arthur up; he’s much larger than them.

“Ah, she ain’t worth it,” Jeremiah shoots, waving his hand at you. They both turn away and start talking to the bartender.

You thank Arthur and then notice he’s wearing a new outfit. Black button-up shirt under a stamped red leather vest and a dark green shotgun coat. Dark jeans tucked into black leather half-chaps and black boots. You avert your eyes from his chest, which is slightly exposed under the shirt since he’s left the top two buttons undone and his collar popped up. He still wears his old hat, though.

The two of you turn and order more drinks from the bartender, the two men who had just been harassing you leaving the saloon. You order two more shots. “His is on me,” you say.

“Nah, ya ain’t gotta buy my drinks, Y/N,” he tries to argue.

“Arthur, please. Let me do this for you, since you got rid of those guys.”

He drinks his shot, grunting at the burn. “What they want, anyways?”

“A paid afternoon,” you drink quickly.

“Those sons of bitches. Glad I got here when I did, sounds like they weren’t too keen on leavin’ ya be.”

“Pretty sure you’re right. Nice outfit, by the way.”

He chuckles. “Ah, it was time. Been makin’ enough money from all the huntin’ we been doin’ the last few days.”

“Well, I like it.”

You can’t tell if he’s blushing or not, but he hides his face with the tip of his hat. The two of you have a couple more drinks, then Arthur orders the both of you some lamb’s fry.

“Ya ain’t gotta buy my food, Arthur, I have enough for it myself.”

“I want to. S’too late now,” he smirks at you. God, he could be so stubborn.

You both take to a table and eat. You’re grateful to finally have a meal you don’t either have to cook yourself or that comes out of Pearson’s pot.

The two of you finish and walk out of the saloon. You look to the hotel and see a sign offering baths. Your skin suddenly begins to itch, as though your entire body is hungry for some hot water.

“I’m going to go get myself cleaned up. Meet you at camp?”

“Ya sure ya don’t want me to wait for ya?”

“Arthur, you don’t have to if you don’t wanna. I ain’t makin’ you do nothin’.”

“S’a’right, I’ll wait. I was gonna go look at horses anyways.”

You glance to his paint hitched outside of the hotel.

“What’s wrong with that one?”

Arthur looks at it as well. “Well, nothin’, but it just don’t feel right to be ridin’ a horse from Mrs. Adler’s home. I talked to her earlier, she said I could do whatever I want with it. Still, I might get a different one.”

You nod your head and go into the hotel, paying 25 cents for a bath. You head into the washroom and sink into the long tub, moaning audibly as the hot water laps at your skin.

While your scrubbing your hair, a knock comes to the door. For a second, your stomach clenches at the thought of it maybe being Arthur, but then a woman’s voice rings through the door.

“Need someone to take over for you?” she asks. You breathe out heavily.

“Nah thanks, I’m doin’ okay.”

“No worries! Just doin’ my job.”

You quickly scrub the rest of your body and then sit a few moments, letting your skin soak up the water. You finally decide it’s time to get out and stand up, drying yourself off. You head out of the room and down the hall and see Arthur’s in the lobby, sitting down in a chair.

“What are you doin’?” you ask. “Thought you was lookin’ at horses?”

“I was, but they ain’t got anythin’ really worth lookin’ at right now. Stable master says he’s short on horses to buy for now.”

“Ya didn’t have to wait here for me, though.”

“Ya always this bossy, miss?”

For a second you stare hard at him, then the both of you start laughing as you leave the hotel. You mount your horses and head back to camp.

When you get back, Hosea’s sitting on a rock holding a huge, scoped rifle. He calls Arthur over to him. You hitch Rain next to a massive black shire, who snorts almost angrily as you dismount your horse. You give him a wide berth, not wanting to be kicked.

You head on over to Pearson and give him the things you didn’t sell, including a perfect elk pelt. Grimshaw heads over to you, huffing.

“Glad to see your back, Ms. Y/L/N, but I need you to go help the other girls.”

She leads you to the tented wagons where the others sit. You see the three girls gathered around the canvas that usually covers Hosea’s, Charles’s and Bill’s bedrolls, which seems to have split nearly all the way down the middle. It had rained hard last night, so you’re not surprised the water tore it.

You pass Arthur and Hosea, standing near the black shire. Arthur mounts the tall horse.

“Ya really gonna ride that thing?” you ask him.

“Gonna give it a try, anyways.”

“Don’t worry,” Hosea calls. “He’s as sweet as a kitten as long as I’m around.”

You chuckle at the face Arthur makes, you can tell Hosea hasn’t given him any confidence.

“You goin’ huntin’ again?” you ask as he pats the horse.

“Hosea says there’s a giant bear near some lake. We’re gonna try to get it.”

“Okay, be safe.”

The two men wave at you as they turn their horses and head down the trail, yelling at Lenny that they might be gone a few days.

It’s early the next morning, and you’re on guard duty. You were set on it last night just after sunset by Dutch. You wait patiently, yawning widely, for the next person to come and relieve you. You hear two horses approaching. Hosea comes up the trail on Silver Dollar, and behind him Arthur on a brand new horse. He stops the horse next to you.

She’s huge; an iron gray Ardennes war horse. She flicks her black tail.

“What ya think?” Arthur asks, leaning down on the horn of his saddle.

“What happened to the shire?”

“Ah, stable master was offerin’ a lot of money for that kind of horse, so I sold him. Someone had just brought this girl in, so I figured what the hell?”

You let her sniff your hand and then offer her a beet. You pat her head softly. “She have a name?”

“Artemis.”

“Pretty.”

Just then, Charles comes towards you. “I’m here to take your spot.”

You nod appreciatively, offering him the repeater. Just as you’re about to go back into camp, Arthur calls your attention.

“Lemme give you a ride,” he offers you his hand.

At first you think of saying no, but then you decide to take him up on his offer. You reach up, grasping his arm. He heaves you up easily as though you weigh nothing. You swing your leg over Artemis’ wide hind quarters, and Arthur pushes her into a steady trot.

He hitches the grey horse to the post and dismounts, raising his arms up to help you off. Even though you don’t need it, you oblige. He sets you down easily, smiling at you. You thank him, then stifle another yawn.

“Think I’m gonna go get some rest,” you say. “I hate overnight guarding.”

“Sounds good. Lemme know if you need anything,” the outlaw says, heading over to Pearson’s wagon.

Just as you’re passing Dutch’s large tent to go to your own, you see him sitting under the canvas canopy next to his tent. He snaps his book shut as he hears you approaching.

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N. Off guard duty, I see.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, stopping.

He stands up and walks over to you.

“Seems like you’re pretty happy here with us. I must admit, I had my doubts about you back at Bison Point.”

He stops, you wonder if he’s waiting for you to talk.

“Yes, sir. I’m pretty happy here.”

“Good. Well, I think you’re debt to us has been settled. Pearson says you and Arthur bring in almost more food than everyone else combined.”

You smile at him. “You mean I could leave?”

He sighs heavily. “If that’s what you really wanted, as long as I know you’d never tell anyone about us.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that, sir. I don’t want to leave. I ain’t been this happy in years.”

He straightens up, smiling. “Well, good. It’s been nice havin’ you ‘round. I can tell Arthur appreciates your company.”

You hide your face with your hat, trying to hide the blush. “I’ve enjoyed his.”

“And Hosea. He likes you. Says you’re a good kid.”

“Well, I know a few people who’d disagree, ‘cept they’re all dead.”

Dutch chuckles deeply. “Well, I’m glad you’ve found a place among us, miss.”

He walks away, going back to his canopy and opening his book again. You head off to your tent, feeling happy and light.

The next day, you’re standing next to Karen by her tent, enjoying a cup of coffee in the early morning. You spot Arthur strolling past, carrying a hay bale to the horses. He tips his hat towards the two of you when he sets it down and then approaches one of the wagons where Uncle can be seen sitting beside it, snoozing.

“Ugh, I need to get out of this place,” Karen complains. “You been lucky Arthur’s takin’ ya out huntin’ so much. I swear, I hear that woman’s voice one more time…”

You smile and laugh, taking a sip of your coffee when you overhear Arthur and Uncle talking about heading into Valentine. Karen must hear, too, she starts to approach him. Mary-Beth and Tilly follow a step or two behind her.

“Hey, if yer takin’ the old man into town, ya mind takin’ us, too?” she asks him as he lights a cigarette.

“Why? What you got goin’ on?”

“Nothin’.”

“We just need to get out,” says Mary-Beth. You finish your coffee and walk over to the small group. “Karen’s ‘bout ready to murder Grimshaw.”

Arthur huffs. “Can Ms. Grimshaw spare you?”

“Can Ms. Grimshaw spare you?” Karen mocks. “What’s happened to you, Arthur? Four, young healthy women wanna get out robbin’ and yer worried about domestic chores? Let’s go!”

“Ya got me,” he smiles.

The others celebrate for a moment, climbing into the wagon, you following. You swear Arthur winks at you when he passes you. He climbs into the front with old Uncle and whips the horses. They begin moving down the trail, and Uncle suggests a song, to which the other girls start singing but you’ve never heard before, so you just listen.

As the trail approaches the train tracks, a stage coach drawn by two large horses speeds along it ahead of your wagon. You can tell the driver’s lost control. Sure enough, a moment later the horses break loose and dash off the trail.

Arthur pulls the wagon to a stop and walks up to the man, who asks him if he’ll help and retrieve one of the horses. You smile fondly at him when he walks away, grabbing the spooked horse and guiding it back to the man.

“Thank you kindly, sir!” the man says. “You are a gentleman!” “Not really,” Arthur jokes. “I was just tryin’ to impress the women.”

Arthur gets back into the wagon and carries you on your way to Valentine. He drives it delicately down the main road and stops it outside the stable.

“A’right, I need to go to the store,” Uncle says, climbing off the wagon.

“Right. Me and the others will get to work,” Karen says, beckoning you and the other two to follow her. You’re not entirely sure what she means by get to work, so you catch up to her and ask.

“We just scope out the town, see who we can rob,” she says urgently, leading you to the saloon. “Either you can do it sneaky or you can do favors.”

You didn’t like the idea of doing favors, so instead you decide to see who you can potentially rob. When you were on your own during the past year, you’d occasionally rob people, but your targets back then were always lone men on the trails. Not in the middle of town.

Karen and Tilly approach two men near the bar who seem to be drunk. Mary-Beth follows a girl who looks like she’s a maid out the doors. You spot, towards the back, the two men who had been harrassing you a couple of days ago. Jeremiah and George. You can tell by their stance and loud, carrying voices they’re drunk as they flirt and stumble around the saloon girls. You decide on an angle to work.

Approaching them, you put on a friendly face. George looks up and sees you through bloodshot eyes. “‘Ey, if it ain’t you! Ya come back to take us up on our offer?” He practically punches Jeremiah in the arm, guiding his attention to you. The other man turns and sees you.

“Well, well. Fancy an afternoon?” he laughs loudly. He’s looking a little green in the face. You can tell by the faces of the saloon girls they would rather be somewhere else.

“Listen, you two,” you say politely. “Why don’t you follow me outside to the back? Maybe we can get properly introduced?”

You wink, trying to suppress a shudder. The two men smile and stumble as they follow you out the back door of the saloon. You find the yard has a waist-high fence and a couple of chickens. No one else is around. Good.

The two men trip over their feet a little as they step out onto the dirt. You turn and smile innocently at them.

“Well, little lady,” Jeremiah burps. “Ya ready to get things started right?”

You laugh a little, then you pull out your sawed-off shotgun and point it at them.

“I doubt you two morons will remember this, but I think it’s time you learn that when a girl tells you no, she means no.”

The two men start to holler, but they’re so drunk you’re not worried about them attracting attention. They start trying to get away from you, but they end up tripping over each other. You swing your arm towards George’s face, slapping him with your gun, knocking him out. Jeremiah then promptly vomits over himself, falling down. You kick him in the head for good measure. You bend down and search their pockets quickly, being particularly careful with Jeremiah’s clothes.

You pull out several dollars and a hand-written note. Unfortunately, you can’t read it, so you stuff it into your pocket along with the money, then dash off to the main road.

You look around and see Arthur and Uncle sitting outside the store, waiting for you and the others. You approach the two; Arthur greets you warmly as you sit next to him. He hands you a journal.

“Here, this is for you,” he says. Your chest warms at the idea of him getting you something.

“What’s this?”

“Journal. For ya to practice yer writin’ in. Figured ya could use it.”

You caress the dark, stamped leather of the cover. A pencil, slipped in a tight leather strip, keeps the journal’s flap closed. You slide it out and flick through the thick pages.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you say warmly. He nods to you.

A distraction comes in the form of Mary-Beth dashing up the steps. “Fellers, I just got a tip about a job. Posed as a maid in this big fancy house, usually works. Anyways, these two men were talkin’ about a train going to Saint Denis at night! Could be promisin’!”

“Yeah, them Saint Denise trains are usually full of rich people and things they don’t need,” Uncle nods.

“Sounds good,” Arthur says. “Where’s the others?��

“Karen’s got some drunk man she’s gonna rob, so’s Tilly I think. Oh, there’s Tilly there!” she points across the road. Tilly’s being handled rather roughly by a large, dark man in between the hotel and the bank. “That does not look ideal.”

“‘Scuse me, ladies,” Arthur says, going after her. You stay with Uncle and Mary-Beth, watching him. He must have smoothed things over since he brings out Tilly after a moment. He hollers at Uncle to watch over her while he goes inside to fetch Karen. A few moments later, he comes out after Karen, who has a big cut on her lip. Turns out the guy she was trying to rob turned out to be a violent, drunken bastard who enjoyed hitting women.

“He only punched me,” she says, rubbing her lip. “But Arthur hit him a lot harder.”

“Well, glad you’re okay,” you say.

“Hey, is it just me or is that man starin’ at us?” Mary-Beth says, pointing to a well-dressed man on his horse near the butcher. He sees the lot of you staring at him, and he points to Arthur.

“Ain’t you from Blackwater?” “No, sir. Not from there.”

“Oh you were! I seen your face!”

Arthur sighs heavily and starts walking over to him. “I ain’t never been to Blackwater. Look, mister, come over here.”

The man panics and spurs his horse into a gallop, running off down the road. Arthur hops onto a nearby Standardbred and dashes off after him.

“Always runnin’ around, that man,” Uncle says, heading back to the wagon. He and the girls get into it, you follow them. Uncle is just about to whip the horses to get them moving when you stop him.

“We ought to wait for Arthur, don’t you think?” “The man can walk, can’t he?”

You give Uncle a look. “He’ll only be a minute.”

“Fine, better be a fast one though.”

“Don’t know why yer complainin’, old man,” Karen says, still nursing her swollen lip. “Gives you a chance to snooze some more, don’t it? I thought driving horses upset your lumbago.”

“Oh, very funny,” he says, leaning back and crossing his arms as you and the others laugh.

After several moments, Arthur returns, giving the horse back to its owner, thanking him. He climbs back onto the wagon, grabbing the reins.

“That guy dead?” Karen asks.

“Nah, didn’t need to kill him. He knows now to forget our faces. I doubt he’ll give us any problems. Feller tried to kill himself on a cliff. Damn idiot.”

Arthur drives you back to camp. He hops out of the wagon and heads over to Dutch. You pull out the money you stole and the note. You look around, seeing if you can find anyone who can read it. You spot John near the donation box by Dutch’s tent. You approach him.

“Hey John, can you read?”

He turns his face to you. His bandage has been taken off, revealing the stitches across his cheek, nose and lip. The wounds look red and angry still.

“Sure,” he says in his raspy voice. You hand him the note. “Says here that some rancher is movin’ some sheep to auction in Valentine later this month. Where’d you find this?”

“Stole it off some idjits in town.”

“Hmm. Might be a good score. I’ll look into it; see what I can find out. If it seems promisin’, you should come with since you found it.”

“Sound good! Lemme know.”

It’s been a few days since you last left camp, and you’re beginning to get stir crazy and bored. You’re wiping down the round table by Dutch’s tent one afternoon when Arthur trots in on Artemis with an unconscious Swanson draped over the back of his horse. Arthur slides him off and onto his shoulder, carrying him over to his own tent by the main campfire. You and Grimshaw approach him.

“Again, Reverend Swanson?” she asks him as he rolls over, asleep. “What he do this time?”

“Nothin’ good. He was lucky, this time, real lucky.”

You step towards Arthur, curious about what had happened, as he walks away from the fire.

“What did he do?” you ask.

“Ah, he got himself stuck on a bridge right before a train came along. Would’ve been run over if I hadn’t been there. Damn fool; wish he’d stop with that morphine of his. Ain’t doin’ him or anyone else any good.”

You stare off at the incoherent Reverend in his tent sadly, Grimshaw sits beside him as she watches over him. Arthur heads over to Pearson and you follow.

“When you plannin’ on goin’ hunting again?” you ask.

“Why?”

“You know why, Arthur. I need to get out of here, I’m going crazy.”

He smiles at you. “Well, let me talk to Dutch real quick, then maybe you and I can head out.”

You’re surprised he’s willing to leave so late in the day since the sun is already beginning to set.

“A’right, let me know when you’re ready to go,” you say, heading off to your own tent to start packing up a few things. He heads over to Dutch, sitting inside his tent reading a book. You hear them talking, but then your attention is caught by Lenny shouting for Dutch and Arthur. You haven’t seen the boy since leaving Colter, when Dutch sent him and Micah out scouting. You look into the trees behind Lenny, but see no sign of the other man.

“They got Micah in Strawberry!” Lenny shouts, breathing hard. “They nearly lynched me, too, but I got away just in time.”

“Calm down, son,” Dutch says. “Now tell us what happened?”

Lenny bends down, placing his hands on his knees. When he’s caught his breath, he straightens up and explains how he and Micah were in Strawberry, and Micah had a few too many drinks and ended up shooting someone, getting himself arrested.

Dutch pats him on the shoulder. “A’right, son, relax. We’ll deal with this. Arthur, take Lenny into town, get him drunk then head into Strawberry and get Micah out.”

Arthur tries to argue, but Dutch shuts him down. “A’right, fine. Just can’t do everything right now.” He sees you and beckons you over. “Sorry, Y/N, I gotta take care of the kid. Ya mind if we head out in the mornin’?”

“Of course not, Arthur. Go with Lenny.”

He tips his hat to you and leaves. You turn back into camp, wondering what to do now since the daily chores are done. You’re just about to grab a plate of stew when you bump into Strauss.

“Careful there, Y/N,” he saws, dropping the envelopes in his hand.

“Sorry, Herr Strauss,” you start picking them up for him. You can see they’re from the post office. One of them is addressed to Arthur; you’ve been practicing enough reading to be able to recognize his name.

“Here, let me put this in his tent,” you offer. He lets you take the letter and goes off with the others.

Walking into Arthur’s tent, you place the letter on his table next to the picture of his mother. You see the other photo on the ammo crates by his bed, which shows another woman. You get closer to it, trying to see if there’s any familial similarities to Arthur, but you don’t see any. You wonder who she is, and why Arthur has a picture of her.

You wake up the next morning, feeling tired and achy. You probably had one too many beers last night with Uncle and John around the campfire. You get out, shading your eyes from the sun before putting your hat back on. Arthur isn’t in his tent or anywhere else in camp; neither is Lenny. Just as you’re pouring yourself a cup of coffee, Arthur and Lenny both ride in, looking horrible. You try not to smile.

“Had a fun night, did ya?” you ask them. Lenny groans loudly.

“Don’t know if I would really call it fun,” he says, dismounting his horse on uneasy legs. Arthur hops off of his.

“Well, at least it got yer mind off goddamn Micah.”

He approaches you and you offer him your cup of coffee, bending down to pour another one. He thanks you before taking a sip.

“How many drinks you fellers have last night anyways?” you ask.

“Too many.”

You laugh. “Well, ya got a letter from someone. I put it on your table.”

“A letter? From who?”

“Don’t know. Anyways, let me know when you’re ready to go. Take as much time as you need. I don’t want you pukin’ over Artemis if you’re still drunk.”

He guffaws. “Don’t worry ‘bout that, think I’m just about fine. Let me go read this letter, then we’ll go.”

He heads off to his tent. You go and grab your satchel and bedroll, heading over to Rain and strapping them onto her saddle when Arthur rushes over to Artemis. He barely glances at you as he mounts.

“Change of plans, Y/N,” he says quickly. “I gotta go take care of somethin’ personal.”

Without another word, he dashes off down the trail and out of the trees towards Valentine. You wonder what was in the letter that could make him rush off so quickly. You go back to his tent and see the letter still lying there, spread open. You pick it up and read what you can from it. From what words you can make out, you gather that it’s from a woman, asking him to help her. You see her signature on the bottom, but it’s so fancy you can’t read the name.

Not wanting to look like you’re burying your nose into Arthur’s business, you decide not to ask one of the girls to read it to you. You approach Mary-Beth and Tilly, cleaning some clothes by their tented wagons.

“Arthur was sure in a hurry,” Mary-Beth says as you take a seat, grabbing a needle and thread. “Thought he was takin’ you out?”

“Thought so too. But he got a letter from someone, a girl I think. Said he had to go take care of personal business.”

“I bet it’s from that Mary,” Tilly says, aggressively scrubbing one of Bill’s shirts. “If ya ask me, she ain’t worth it. Don’t know why he goes runnin’ off to her the moment she even mentions his name.”

“Mary? Who is she?”

Mary-Beth and Tilly look at each other, almost as though they’re debating on telling you. Mary-Beth leans towards you with a soft expression; she almost looks sad.

“Look, Y/N, I know you’re sweet on Arthur, but maybe ya ought to let it go.”

You feel yourself blush. “I ain’t sweet on Arthur.”

“Please,” Karen says as she walks up to you, holding a repeater. She must be about ready to go on guard duty. “We all see the way you look at him when he comes into camp.”

“Yeah, that and the way you blush when he offers to take you places,” Tilly chimes in.

“Ladies, we’re just friends!”

“Nah, to us Arthur is just a friend. But you don’t see him offerin’ to take us hunting,” Karen says. “And you don’t see us trippin’ all over ourselves whenever he’s around.”

Mary-Beth giggles. “It’s really cute, actually. But, Y/N, Mary’s a part of his past he ain’t willin’ to let go of. We keep hopin’, she ain’t good for him, but as you saw he goes gallivantin’ off to her on just a whim.”

“What happened between them?” you ask again.

Mary-Beth, Tilly and Karen fill you in on the story of Arthur and Mary. They don’t know the full story themselves since it was before they had joined the gang, but they had heard enough from Hosea and Grimshaw. They had been lovers when Arthur was fairly young, around the age of twenty. However, Mary came from a decent family and her father intensely disliked Arthur because of his way of life. In the end, Mary chose her family over Arthur and married another man.

“I can understand why she didn’t choose Arthur,” Karen said. “This life ain’t for everyone. But it’s the way she uses him still. Whenever she needs someone to do a job that’s too rough or dirty for her, she calls him and he goes. Every time.”

“He still loves her,” Mary-Beth says sadly. “That’s why he keeps goin’. And every time he comes back from doin’ her jobs, he’s always so sad and sayin’ that she won’t have him since he won’t change.”

“I never liked her,” Tilly adds in. “I saw her once when I was out on a job with Arthur. We were tryin’ to rob someone and she showed up. I swear she insulted him at least three times in ten minutes, then layered them by sayin’ she still loved him. She’s got him wrapped around her finger tight.”

You feel the pain of their words inside of you. It must show on your face, Mary-Beth leans forward and puts a hand on your knee. “I’m real sorry, Y/N. Arthur’s a good man, he deserves someone like you.”

“Nah, he don’t,” you say, hanging your head. “I let go of the fantasy of ever having a happy life a long time ago. Arthur fits into that. Besides, no man in their right mind would ever want to be with me.”

The others go silent for a moment. Then Tilly speaks up again.

“We’ve all tried to tell him she ain’t worth the trouble; he’s better off without her. He always says he understands, but I don’t think he ever hears us. Maybe you should talk to him. He might listen to you.”

You shrug your shoulders, doubtful.

Grimshaw suddenly tramples her way over to your group, screaming. “Now ain’t the time for gossip, you four! Get back to work! Karen, you were supposed to take over for Bill ten minutes ago!”

You, Mary-Beth and Tilly fall silent, returning to your tasks. Karen starts walking towards the trees, but not before pointing the repeater and pretending to shoot Grimshaw in the back as she walks away.

It’s early afternoon by the time Arthur returns. By then, your emotions have completely spiraled out of control. While feeling heartbroken by what the others told you, you also feel anger. Anger at Mary, the way she uses him. Angry at Arthur for letting her. Angry at yourself for feeling this way. He approaches you at Pearson’s wagon.

“Sorry for that, Y/N,” he says warmly. “You still wanna go huntin’?”

“Can’t,” you say coldly. Arthur looks at you, confused at your snap. You’ve never been short with him.

“Grimshaw needs me,” you add, trying not to let your emotions show. You know you really shouldn’t be angry with him since it truly isn’t your business, but you can’t help feeling like he’s betrayed you somehow. “Sorry.”

He takes a step back, his smile sliding off his face. “That’s a’right. Well, I do need to go huntin’, Pearson’s gettin’ low again. You and I should go in a few days though, ya deserve a break.”

Arthur leaves and goes to Artemis. You turn back to your pile of carrots, feeling stupid. Why do you even care so much? From what it sounds like, Mary only calls him on occasion. It’s not like she’s around camp, distracting him constantly. Still, you know Mary-Beth and Tilly are right. You’ve grown feelings for the outlaw, something you’ve tried bitterly to prevent. If your past had taught you anything, it was that you are not designed to be with someone who could love you because there is no one who could love you. Besides, you doubt that he feels anything towards you. Most likely, he just sees you as a friend, nothing more.

You cut the carrots, trying to ignore the stinging of your eyes, betraying your tears. You take your feelings out on the vegetables, cutting them up far more than usual.

The sun is beginning to set when Arthur returns with a deer and two turkeys, turning them over to Pearson. You’ve been nursing a bottle of whisky the last half hour, getting steadily more tipsy. He approaches you where you sit by the campfire with Hosea and Uncle, who’s singing a song you’re quietly humming to.

“Ain’t seen you drink that much since that time in Bison Point when you fell off your horse and thought you broke your ankle,” Arthur chuckles at you. You stare up at him.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t break my ankle then and it ain’t broken now,” you say sharply. He sits down next to you. You offer him the bottle and he takes it.

“What’s goin’ on with you?” he asks quietly so the others won’t hear.

“What you mean?”

“I mean you ain’t been actin’ like yerself ever since this mornin’. Is it because I had to take care of that thing? Look, I’ll make it up to ya. We can go huntin’ whenever you want.”

For some reason, your temper gets the better of you. You’ve forgotten that alcohol always makes it harder to control and hide your emotions.

“I need to talk to you. Alone,” you say, standing up.

Arthur stands up, setting the bottle of whisky down. You lead him off into the trees, past a broken wagon and down the hill, towards the river. You take him to the bottom, right before the trees stop and the main trail winds its way along the river. You lean against a large boulder and turn to him finally.

“I know about Mary,” you finally say, the alcohol fueling the fire in your chest.

Arthur looks at you, his face is hard.

“What about Mary?”

“Arthur, look, it ain’t really none of my business but the other girls told me about her. She.. doesn’t sound like she’s a good person, and I just don’t want…”

Arthur cuts you off. “You’re right, it ain’t none of yer business, so why you talkin’ ‘bout her?”

“I’m just trying to help,” you shoot back. “Sounds like she just likes havin’ you around to do stuff for her.”

“There’s nothin’ for you to help with, Y/N,” he growls. “She’s a part of my past ya know nothin’ about.”

“I know, Arthur. But please, listen to me. I know you love her, and I know she loved you once. At least, that’s what the others told me. But answer me honestly. Do you really think she still loves you?” Arthur sighs heavily, you can tell he’s getting angry. You’ve seen it before, like a fast-approaching storm, but it’s never been directed at you. “Like I said, it ain’t none of yer business what goes on between me and Mary.”

“Arthur, please just listen to me. If she truly loves you, would she treat you this way?”

“I was helpin’ her with her brother! It weren’t like she was usin’ me!”

“Why did she need your help with her brother? She ask you to shoot someone? Beat someone up?”

Arthur’s face darkens. “He got himself stuck with those damn Chelonian fools. It didn’t require me to hurt no one! Is that what you think she does? Asks me to go kill people for her?” he takes a step towards you, looming over you. You take a step back, feeling nervous.

“No, that’s not what I meant. But this is what I been tryin’ to say, Arthur. She knows that no matter what kind of life you live, no matter what choices you make, you are a good man and you’ll always help her. I just don’t want you to waste your life on someone who doesn’t deserve you!”

“And who would you rather me waste my life on? You?”

You feel like he just punched you in the chest. He must know somehow about your feelings. Did one of the other girls tell him? You stand up straight, glaring at him.

“I never said I deserved to be with you, Arthur. For God’s sake, don’t! I already know I’m gonna die alone, but you don’t have to share that fate.”

The two of you stare angrily at each other for a moment. You blink away the angry tears in your eyes. “I promise you though, Arthur, you will die alone just like me if you keep chasin’ after her. If she decided not to be with you then, why would she change her mind now?”

Arthur’s hand flies up, and you flinch, expecting the hit. Instead, he takes his hat off and rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration. He stares at you, confused, as you stand hunched over with your hands raised above your head. Recognition dawns on his face, and he lowers his hand slowly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says quietly. “Ya know I’d never…”

“I know, I know,” you mumble, lowering your hands and slowly straightening up. You feel ashamed of how you reacted, even if it was involuntary. The two of you stand awkwardly. Arthur takes several steps back. You can tell he’s still angry.

“Arthur, look, I’m sorry. For everything. I’m just tryin’ to look out for you,” you almost whisper.

He looks away from you and rests his eyes on a bush. “I don’t need you to look out for me, Y/N. I can take care of myself. Besides, it ain’t none of yer business.”

He turns and stalks away from you and back up the hill. When he’s gone, you feel the tears slide down your hot cheek. You sink down to the ground and let them run. This was not how you planned this conversation to go. In fact, it went as bad as it possibly could have. Not only have you hurt him, your best friend, but now he knows you have feelings for him.

Feeling betrayed, angry, and confused, you rip out clumps of grass, tearing them apart in your hands. Through your tears, you watch the full moon glide across the sky, reflecting in the steady river. Hours pass, and you can’t find the strength or the courage to stand up and return to camp. You doubt you’ll ever be able to look Arthur in the face again, let alone speak to him. Why couldn’t you just accept the fact that he won’t ever feel for you the way you feel for him? Why couldn’t you take that he was always going to choose her over you? Why couldn’t you just accept that you’re always going to be alone? Hell, it had been easy enough before he found you.

The sky begins to lighten, and you’re still sat by the boulder where Arthur left you. You wipe the long-dried trails of tears from your face and rub your tired eyes. You tell yourself to grow up, to stop acting like a child, and pick yourself up off the ground. You march up the hill. The walk back to camp seems a lot longer than it did last night. Maybe you’re just dreading facing reality.

You walk into the silent camp. Hardly anyone is stirring yet, most of them are still asleep. The exception is Swanson, sitting on the ground near the campfire, but it’s clear he’s been dipping into his supply of morphine again. You drag your eyes to Arthur’s tent, afraid of what you might see. To your relief, his cot is empty, and upon further inspection of the camp, you find that Artemis is gone. He’s obviously left. Probably back to Mary. You can’t say you blame him. You force yourself to walk over to your tent, practically falling down onto your bedroll and into sleep.

A few hours go by, and you’re awakened by Grimshaw’s yelling.

“Of course, yer lazin’ about!” she squawks at you, thumping on the canvas above your head. You tiredly crawl out of the tent and she grabs you by the ear.

“Get over there and do your work!” she tosses you over to the washbin by Tilly’s tent and you obediently get on your knees and start scrubbing some clothes. She marches away to the other side of camp.

After you massage your ear, you look around the camp with sore eyes. It’s early afternoon. Arthur’s horse, Artemis, is still missing, for which you are grateful. Mary-Beth approaches you.

“You a’right? Ya look awful?”

You smile sadly. “I’m fine, Mary-Beth.”

She pauses. “I guess things didn’t go well with Arthur last night.”

You look up at her. “You couldn’t hear us, could you? I didn’t think we were being very loud.”

“No, but I saw the two of you leave. Then he came back by himself. I ain’t seen him look that way in a long time. Then he got on his horse and left. Ain’t seen him since.”

You drop your eyes back to the soapy water before you. “What did he look like?”

“Hard to say, really,” she says after sighing and sitting down on a crate. “Like he was heartbroken, honestly, but angry too. He didn’t say nothing to anyone either before he left.”

“Well, you’re right in thinking things didn’t go well. God, I’m such a fool. I really thought I might have a chance with him if he wasn’t involved with her. Guess that Mary’s right about one thing. He’ll never change. Besides, he’s right to stay away from me.”

Mary-Beth is silent for several moments. “Why… why’d you kill your family?”

You stop, taken aback by the question. The last thing you want to talk about is your past. “I just… had to. I needed to get away from them and the only way I could was to kill ‘em.”

You go back to scrubbing the clothes, raking them across the washboard.

“Your husband, was he a good man? If you don’t mind my askin’,” she asks softly.

“No. I’d never met him before my dad told me I was engaged to him. He hated me, though, I know he did. And I hated him.”

“That’s awful. I can’t imagine bein’ engaged to someone I’d never met.”

“Yeah, it was. I tried to learn to love him, but he made that impossible. It taught me one thing though. True love doesn’t exist. It’s just something from fairy tales.”

“I never really saw it that way,” she says, looking off across camp. “I’ve read so many books that I can’t not believe it exists. How could so many different people only believe in such a beautiful thing without having felt it?”

“Guess I never really thought of it that way. Well, if it is real, it surely wants nothin’ to do with me.”

The two of you sit in silence before Mary-Beth offers to read to you from one of her books. You accept her offer, glad for the distraction from your own dark thoughts.

Grimshaw sets you on night duty, under the impression that you had slept the previous night and simply overslept this morning. You stand there, near the trail, your thoughts circling around one another when you hear a horse coming in. You grab the repeater tighter in your hands. Arthur comes up the trail on Artemis, several pelts on her back. You avert your eyes from him, and he passes you in silence. You wish you could say something to him, apologize maybe, but you doubt he’d want to listen to anything you have to say.

Several moments after he passes, you head up to camp for a drink. You go to Pearson’s wagon and grab a bottle, drinking from it greedily. Arthur isn’t anywhere to be seen, but you can hear him talking to Dutch. From what it sounds like, he’s going to be near camp for the next few days. You don’t know if you’re ready to face him yet. You come to a decision.

After a few hours, when you’re sure most of the camp and most importantly Arthur are asleep, you return to the clearing. Javier and Uncle are the only ones awake, sitting by the main camp fire. You find Arthur fast asleep in his cot, his journal lying on his chest. You quietly pass him and go to the other side of the wagon that forms his tent and look at the map that is stuck to the side. It shows New Austin, West Elizabeth, Ambarino, New Hanover and a state you’ve never been to called Lemoyne. You look over it and focus on New Hanover, trying to find hunting grounds you’ve never been to. You focus on an area called Roanoke Ridge up near a town called Annesburg. Deciding on that, you turn away from the wagon again, heading back down to the trees to return to guard duty. A familiar voice calls you.

“What you doin’, Y/N?” It’s Arthur. You turn and look back at him. He’s sitting up in his cot. You’re soft footsteps must have woken him, you’ve forgotten how light of a sleeper he is.

“Nothing, Mr. Morgan. I’m sorry,” you say, hoping he’ll find more in that apology than simply waking him. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just… looking for something.”

He says nothing but continues to stare at you, his face hard. You turn away and leave, hoping he won’t come after you. You enter the trees and sigh hard, feeling like you just escaped. You’re not exactly sure what you just escaped from, though. You suddenly wonder if, instead of going hunting, you should just leave entirely. The thought pains you; you’ve gotten so close to many of the others. This gang is the closest thing you’ve ever known to a proper family. However, it might not be possible to stay with Arthur around. He’s such a vital part to the gang. You shake your head, trying to rid these thoughts, and decide that for now you’ll just go hunting near this Roanoke Ridge. You’ll worry about potentially abandoning the camp later when you return.

When Lenny comes to relieve you in the morning, to say you’re exhausted is an understatement. You’ve had hardly any sleep in the last 2 days. You think about delaying your hunting trip for a few hours and sleeping, but you know Grimshaw won’t let that happen. She’s already up and looking like she’s about to go rage at Karen and Tilly. You tiredly roll up your bedroll, but decide to leave your tent here. You’ve spent plenty of nights open to the stars; even been rained on a few times. Besides, you’ll only be gone a couple of days. Long enough to clear your head hopefully.

You strap your things to Rain’s saddle, and then turn back to the camp. You see Hosea sitting up in his bedroll, preparing to start his day. You approach him.

“Hosea, how are you?” “Very good, Y/N,” he says, standing up. “How are things between you and Arthur?”

Jesus, does everyone know that you two fought? You sigh heavily.

“Not the best. Look, I’m gonna head out for a few days, do some huntin’. You mind if I take one of Jack’s books?”

He stares at you sadly, then nods. “I understand, Y/N. I’ll tell Dutch you’re out followin’ a lead.”

“Thank you,” you say as he hands you another Otis Miller book. You turn away and mount Rain, staring back at the camp one last time before trotting down the trail and into the open air.

You head into Valentine to pick up a few things. You go into the store and buy some cans of food, coffee, and a small map. You study it briefly, figuring out which trails to follow to get to Roanoke Ridge. You approach the clerk.

“Excuse me, but can you read what that says?” you point to the north eastern corner of New Hanover. He glances at it.

“Sure, says Roanoke Ridge. You got family up near Annesburg or somethin’?”

“Or something,” you say, putting the map into your satchel.

“Apologies, miss. Didn’t mean to pry.”

You thank him and leave the store. You head over to the hotel and give the desk clerk a dollar for a room, figuring you need to get some rest before heading on your way.

By late afternoon, you’re as rested as you’re going to get. You quickly brush Rain and feed her a few cubes of hay and some apples. You pat her affectionately, she muzzles her nose into your hand. You mount her and canter out of town; someone yells behind you to slow down. You ignore them, following the muddy road away from Valentine.

You travel up through the Cumberland Forest and into the Grizzlies East in Ambarino. Late into the night, you stop by a lake that the map says is O’Creagh’s Run, although you struggle to read the words. A single cabin sits on the north eastern side of the lake. You make camp on the other side of it. You quickly make a fire and roast a rabbit you had caught not too long ago, staring at the cabin on the opposite shore from you. Smoke spirals from the chimney stack of the cabin; a candle’s light illuminates the window in the front. A single, large white horse stands in a stall beside the cabin. You wonder who lives there and what they do. Not that you’re going to go introduce yourself by any means.

You eat quickly and then settle down in your bedroll, staring at the stars above, letting them wink you to sleep.

Rain drops splash on your face in the morning. It isn’t raining hard, but it’s enough to wake you. You roll up your things and then kick dirt over the fire, which is just a pile of hot, sizzling coals at this point. You make sure the few pelts you gathered on your way here yesterday are still situated before mounting Rain and kicking her into a gallop around the lake.

You’ve never been to country like this before. The mountains are grey and green, arching into tall mounds above your head. Among the thick trees and tall grasses, wild flowers of every color bloom. Eventually the trees thin into open grasslands, but the mountains rise higher. At least the sky is clear now and the rain has stopped, giving way to warm sunshine.

By midday, you’re back into a thick forest, but it isn’t like the ones you left behind in West Elizabeth or by Valentine. It isn’t made of the elegant pine trees you’re familiar with, but tall oaks. The mountains you ride upon are no longer smooth, but broken up and craggly. There are so many cliffs and ledges you have to slow Rain down into an easy canter for fear of falling.

You reach Roanoke Valley and see the roaring river in the bottom of a steep ravine. You stop Rain and pull out your map, examining it. You struggle to properly read a location called the Elysian Pool close to a place named Butcher’s Creek. You find the easiest trails to follow to get there and send Rain on her way again.

After nearly an hour of travelling, the trail points down towards the Kamassa River, which you know means you’re close to the Elysian Pool. The trail turns south along the river. Something feels wrong, like you’re being watched. You look all around you, but the trees are so thick and dense it’s impossible to make anything out. The birds above you continue to sing, so there can’t be a predator like a cougar around. You pull Rain to a walk, checking the forest.

A doe bolts from a bush close to you, spooking both you and your horse as she darts up the steep hill. You sigh heavily, figuring that’s what had made you nervous. You kick Rain, sending her after the doe to try and hunt it. She bounds up the hill, dodging through the trees.

Just as you peak over the hill, you hear yelling and hollering. Then gunshots, and Rain squeals loudly. You’ve never heard her make that sound before, but you know instantly it’s bad. She starts turning in circles, your upper body swings over her neck and that’s when you see the blood streaming from her chest.

“NO!” you scream as another gunshot rings out, slamming into her neck. Her legs begin to buckle beneath her, tossing you onto the hard ground. You launch to your feet, pulling out your sawed-off shotgun and pointing it. Around you are four men, dirty and wild. Most of them are barely dressed, wearing nothing but pants or overalls. They point their own rifles at you, laughing maniacally through mouths missing multiple teeth.

“Well, lookee here, boys!” one of them hollers. “We got us a live ‘un! I think we’ll like ‘er just fine!”

“Let’s take ‘er back, let her stew a few days,” another one says.

The man closest to Rain approaches your dying horse. She’s still snorting, although she’s getting quieter. Blood seeps into the ground beneath her, her breathing looks labored.

“Get away from her!” you scream, pointing your gun to him. You hear one of the others run up behind you, but you’re not quick enough. He slams the butt of his gun into the back of your head, knocking you to the ground. You have just enough time to see the man near Rain place the barrel of his gun against her head and pull the trigger before the world around you turns black.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x oc #Van Der Linde Gang #horseshoe overlook #rockstar games #r*#i'm awkward #second chances

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bisexualstokes-archive · 5 years ago

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A Walk in the Woods (1/2)

Chapter (1/2): The Show-Off in the Spotlight Rating: Teen+ Summary: Nick goes off the beaten path during the Annual Stokes Hunting Trip, and pays the price for it, going from hunter to prey as he falls into a trap that opens old wounds, which he discusses with his son, Parker. Chapter Notes: Since this is about hunting, there is of course, some descriptions of it, but not in the usual level of detail that I tend to write, in terms of the uh, animal violence that comes with it. A bit short, but it's just the beginning.

@letswaitforme, @deltajackdalton this is probably up your alley ;)

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It was his first time traveling outside of Texas. His first excursion on the annual tradition of the Stokes men, a hunting trip in Colorado. “Where a boy becomes a man,” as his eldest brother, Todd put it to him. Todd was there to snap a picture of a young, eager Nick Stokes, age 12, when his father told him the great news.

Nick hadn’t been able to sleep, he was too excited, one of his other brothers, Stevie equated the experience of going to Disney World—another trip the Stokes family would embark on later that same year. A year of travel, of exploration.

He was happy to finally be allowed to come on this trip, considering ever since three years ago, bad things happened while his father and brothers were on the trip. Last year, all of the women in the house were just...insufferable, to say the least, all coming down with the same illness, screaming at Nick one minute, then fawning over him the next. Year before that, Nick broke his leg, he was goofing around with his friends a little too much.

The year before that...well, he doesn’t like to think too much about the night he spent in his darkened room, covering his body with a blanket, waiting for his mother to come home.

His brothers always seemed a little happier after the trip, rejuvenated, the weight of the world off their shoulders.

“Besides the hunting and hiking we just...talk. Hell, Dad doesn’t even care if we talk bad about the family, or him. Says it’s stress relief, whatever happens in the woods, stays in the woods,” Todd told him as he filled Nick in on what to expect.

“I thought that was Vegas?” Nick asked. He always wanted to go to Vegas.

He had wondered if maybe this trip would be an opportunity to share what happened with his father. No way that...monster could know what he says in the middle of the woods somewhere in Colorado...right?

There was something about the deep, dark woods that made him believe maybe it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility. He had never been in a forest like this one, never seen mountains that loomed far above him. He looked down over the edge of a cliff, licked his lips nervously. Long way down.

“Aw, is little Nicky scared?” his brother Steve teased in a mock-baby talking voice as they trudged through the woods to find their campsite.

“No, Stevie!” Nick blurted out. “I’m not scared!”

His fingers balled up into a fist, he was going to show Steve how not-scared he was.

“Boys…” a warning tone, from Cisco. He shot his two youngest sons a warning glance. “Keep it up, you’re sleeping with the wolves tonight.”

He had said it sternly, seriously, but gave Nick a wink, which eased his anxiety a little. An empty threat, meant as a joke, but Nick would be lying if he said he tread carefully for the rest of the night, avoiding any more disputes with his brother.

“He’s just jealous, he got all the attention last year,” Todd whispered to Nick. “Since it was his first time last year. Little Stevie loves the spotlight.”

“Yeah, he does,” Nick giggled. Stevie Stokes, the show-off in the spotlight. The alliteration made him burst into a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Steve asked as Todd caught on to Nick’s contagious laughter.

“Nothing...This is just...so awesome!” Nick exclaimed. His initial fear was gone, the once intimidating height of the trees turned to a challenge--he hoped he’d be able to climb them, despite the echoed warnings from his mother inside his head telling him not to. The looming shadows were exposed, wildlife hopping and running out of the darkness, he had never been this close to this many animals before.

But it was the sounds of birds that really put his mind at ease, he looked up and saw birds he had only seen pictures of before. He stopped and just stared up at the sky for a few moments, allowed himself to be lost in the winding tornado of birds in the trees above.

“Pancho, you coming?” his father called out to him.

Nick didn’t respond right away, trapped in a weird sensation of disconnection from his body. An oddly elevating feeling, he felt like he was floating upwards, wings spread out beside him. He couldn’t even remember why they were out there, didn’t even care. He had never been so happy in his life, not that he could remember.

“Nicholas Parker!” his father shouted, and Nick fell back to the earth, the smile wiped off of his face, and he was worried again, his father only used his middle name when he was in trouble…

He nodded for Todd to go ahead with the rest of the boys, put a hand on Nick’s shoulder, reached behind a hand to his backpack. Nick’s eyes widened in concern, but his father revealed a pair of binoculars that he placed into his son’s hands.

“I was gonna wait until we started the hunt, but, what the hell. This might make it a bit easier to see.”

A smile spread from Nick’s face to his dad’s, if Nick didn’t know any better, it was like a Christmas morning, or his birthday.

“Thanks, Cisco!”

“Come on, let’s go catch up to your brothers. Uncle Mike is waiting for us to set up camp.”

The next morning, after Nick was given the talk on gun safety, he was given a shotgun. It felt heavy in his hands, but it made him feel powerful at the same time. A force to be reckoned with. A force that he was shown, first hand, as his Uncle Mike shot down a bird flying overhead with very little effort. Nick was shocked at first, though he had seen dead animals before, he never quite saw how they died.

"It’s not a toy,” was the last thing his father told him, words that stuck with him long beyond the hunting trip, before they broke off into groups. Given that it was Nick’s first time, he stuck with his father and Steve, who was still in “training,” according to an eavesdrop of hushed whispers between his father and his uncle.

Nick was a natural tracker, pointed out the small details that apparently flew over his father and brother’s heads. His father encouraged him to lead the way, an honor bestowed on only the most experienced Stokes men, from what Todd had told him. Pride filled Nick’s chest as he silently moved through the forest, focused on the task of tracking down a deer--considered to be the “training targets,” while his older brothers were tasked with tracking down an elk.

“I see it!” Nick whispered behind him. “Shh--it’s right up there!”

“Good job, Pancho!” Cisco exclaimed. “Now, take aim…”

He raised the gun, lined up the barrel with the deer that was too busy eating to sense the danger just a few feet away. Young Nick Stokes, with everything to prove to his brothers, to his fathers, to himself, was about to show that he was not scared. He was a man.

“Steady, steady...put your finger on the trigger...and...pull.”

He had his finger on the trigger, but something stopped him from pulling it. Something made his entire body freeze, his heart felt light, fluttery, water was starting to cloud his eyes. If he pulled that trigger, the deer would fall. Fall like the bird did from the sky. All sense of life gone, motionless, its insides spilling out onto the earth.

“What’s taking so long? Pull the trigger!” Steve whispered impatiently. It was annoying, Nick knew he just wanted his turn.

“It’s okay, son, just squeeze your finger…”

But Nick’s finger began to shake instead of squeeze, and he lowered the gun, shaking his head.

“I can’t,” he whispered to his father in a strangled voice.

“Figures,” Steve scoffed, and raised his gun, pulled the trigger. Cheers and whoops from the distance, intended for Nick, but as he always did, Stevie Stokes stole the spotlight.

------------------------------------------------------

He didn’t want to go, not really. It was hyped up by all of his uncles, all of his cousins, but nothing about the “Annual Stokes Hunting Trip” appealed to him in the slightest. He didn’t particularly mind being outdoors, but couldn’t imagine being outside for an entire week, let alone a few hours, surrounded by men who cared about nothing but hunting down innocent animals, ending lives, drinking beer and “bonding.”

“I wanna gooooooo,” Madison whined, tugging at Nick’s shirt.

“I toldja, sweetheart, it’s for boy’s only,” Nick replied, brushing her hair with his hand. “Don’t you want to go shopping with Aunt Catherine and Aunt Sara?”

“Yeah, but...Why can’t we all go together? You always talk about seeing all of the amimals!”

“Animals,” Parker corrected his sister. Her childish mispronunciation always irked him. “Besides, we’re just gonna kill them, anyway, Uncle Stevie said so.”

“That’s not true, Park, we’ve been over this, buddy,” Nick started in a stern tone. Parker’s nostrils flared, lips twisted into a daring smile. Maybe if he got just a little more under his father’s skin, he wouldn’t have to go on this stupid trip. “I tend to stray off the beaten path on these trips…”

A knock at the door, and just when Parker thought things couldn’t get worse, he showed up. Madison seemed to forget about begging and ran to the door with a loud, eager gasp.

“ELI!” she screamed, thrusting the door open and hugging Eli Brown, as he dropped his bags.

“My, my, little Miss Madison! You grow an inch taller every time I see you,” Eli remarked, twirling the little girl in a hug. “You might even grow taller than Uncle Nick.”

“At this rate, it’s gonna be you who’s taller than me, Eli. You’re gettin’ to be as tall as your Dad was,” Nick chuckled, shaking Eli’s free hand. “Safe drive?”

“Of course, yeah, yeah. Mom says hello, and thanks, for getting me out of her hair for the week.”

“Causing trouble for your Mom again? Eli!” Nick scoffed in mock disappointment.

Parker rolled his eyes. His dad always fawned all over Eli. An entire week of hearing Nick talk about how great Eli is, how much he reminds him of his dad, how he’s so proud of the man he’s becoming…

“Speaking of troublemakers, where is he?” Eli asked, he bent over the couch, loomed above Parker’s head, as Parker continued to focus on his GameBoy. “Yo, earth to Park.”

He didn’t have an older brother, but if it was anything like this, he didn’t want one anyway.

“Hi, Eli,” Parker responded in an uninterested monotone.

“Alright, you ready boys? Sam! Where are ya, c’mon, boy!” Nick whistled. The grey-haired German Shepherd trotted into the room, nuzzled his hand under Madison’s head.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Madison cooed to him, rubbing his head.

“I told you sweetie, it’s just for a week--”

“I was talking to Sam, I’m mad at you, Daddy!” Madison pouted, crossing her arms.

Nick just laughed, calling his daughter’s bluff.

“Okay, I love you, too, baby. Have fun with Cath and Sara,” Nick told her, waving Parker and Eli out the door in front of him. He snapped his fingers and Sam broke away from Madison, positioned himself at Nick’s side.

Madison purposefully didn’t look at her father, her eyes closed and lips pursed, but peeked an eye open as Nick began to walk out the door.

“Be careful!” she blurted out, her bottom lip quivering.

“Careful is my middle name, Maddy. Besides, with Eli, Park and Sam along for the ride, what could possibly go wrong?”

#csi cbs #nick stokes #csi fan fiction #csi fic #ficverse: parker and madison #my fic #*rubs hands* now we dive into the really good stuff #i've been sitting on this idea for a while now--ever since i wrote the fic with madison and nick #heck maybe even since ten across??#i have so many fics i wanna write lmao #fic: a walk in the woods

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veinstate · 7 years ago

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→ EDDIE IZZARD: FORCE MAJEURE.

‘it’s nice to be here in this intimate airplane hangar.’ ‘where shall we start tonight? ahhh... human sacrifice!’ ‘we just killed each other, that’s a different thing.’ ‘oooh... i like spoons. i’d like to get more spoons. maybe if i killed steve, i’ve get more spoons.’ ‘just going down the funfair to stick my head in the candyfloss machine and get a big, pink afro.’ ‘stick your head on that tree stump, would you?’ ‘he was what we call a ‘dickhead king’.’ ‘we cut his head off, nothing happened.’ ‘i think he’s appointed by god, lads.’ ‘you’re the one that knows all this technical stuff. that’s why i keep you around!’ ‘sign the big card!’ ‘i like you people, you’re crazy.’ ‘i am a very good fighter— i could kill you, i could kill that guy, i could kill that rat...’ ‘or if not, we’ll just keep going and then we’ll blow up.’ ‘but is it a masculine or is it a feminine spoon?’ ‘it’s just a spoon, come on! get a grip.’ ‘hello! we’ve come with guns and flags.’ ‘i assume you’re saying ‘yes, help yourself’.’ ‘stand back please, or i’ll hit you with a shovel.’ ‘goodbye, i’ll see you every five seconds for the rest of time.’ ‘i put on makeup, i go out and i fight things.’ ‘not actually, y’know, but in my mind.’ ‘i’d go and watch ‘die hard: the musical’.’ ‘or did mice steal them?’ ‘i’ve lost three legs.’ [sings] ‘i’ve lost cheese down my trousers, my monkey’s made of spam, my brother’s in the helicopter and he eats out of a can!’ ‘then sellotape your head to the back of a truck.’ ‘that’s not in most musicals— ‘and then we’ll die’.’ ‘it’s not gonna get better than that.’ ‘they’re fascist plumbers.’ ‘i can’t remember any wifi passwords and i gotta wash my hair.’ ‘lord of the rings: the hairy eagles.’ ‘that’s true. secret of comedy AND human sacrifice.’ ‘is that a rolling pin you’re using?’ ‘what am i, puff pastry?’ ‘good luck god, you great big invisible bastard.’ ‘you know what you did.’ ‘look, i’m not in a relationship with you— just tell me what i did, alright. just be precise.’ ‘well you look like the devil, that’s why.’ ‘but elk have got an entire coat rack coming out of either side of their heads, and that’s just fine and dandy.’ ‘don’t you know the three rules of fascism? make shit up, scream it loudly, then kill people.’ ‘what the hell did they have a conspiracy about— disagreeing?’ ‘it’s the farmer-astronaut conspiracy.’ ‘the dog-helicopter conspiracy! every time a helicopter lands the dogs go ‘woof woof woof’! they are talking to the helicopters.’ ‘can you not see the links?’ ‘the sock-banana conspiracy: they almost look the same. and a banana could get inside a sock, but not the other way round.’ ‘he has prodded everything.’ ‘some people are spongy, and some people you can dent your finger on.’ ‘it’s just too much slaughtering.’ ‘very few goats die in their beds, surrounded by their families, drinking a glass of stella artois.’ ‘they even talk like ghosts when they’re alive.’ ‘do you think caesar is a bit pissed off that chicken is now mentioned before him?’ ‘now keep wearing the helmet, or everyone will know you’re a chicken.’ ‘i don’t know much about ghosts.’ ‘i’ve taken up smoking since you’ve left.’ ‘you’re not a marriage guidance counsellor at all, are you?’ ‘i’ve worked out how to kill fear.’ ‘you can’t be scared AND bored. it’s impossible.’ ‘in the paper-rock-scissors of life, boredom beats fear.’ ‘experts now believe that the only difference between heaven and hell is that in heaven there are toilets, and in hell there are no toilets.’ ‘someone stole the toilet.’ ‘you guys had a revolution, why are you doing this?’ ‘we’re gonna phase them out over the next million years.’ ‘we will not follow the high-voiced people into battle.’ ‘gotta change my shoes; i’ve got the wrong heels on for war.’ ‘trays have been banned in this canteen.’ ‘that’s a bit bloody weird.’ ‘not another bloody game of ‘who the fuck are you?’...‘ ‘there was diana, the god of hunting, roger, the god of baked potatoes, minerva, the god of wisdom, and, ah... siobhan, the god of dangerous spelling.’ ‘for the god siobhan said ‘i will start with the letter s, and i will go through the entire scrabble board before i get to the letter n. and that will fuck up dyslexics around the world’.’ ‘that was zeus, playing the role of the god liam neeson.’ ‘i will release the kraken, so i will.’ ‘i’ve no idea what i’m doing any more.’ ‘i think there’s supposed to be some taxes at some point. i’m not really sure.’ ‘there could be ice creams over there.’ ‘our bodies are like two weasels covered in gravy and nailed to the back of a tractor.’ ‘there could be ice creams underground.’ ‘that’s not a map, it’s a piece of brown paper.’ ‘some moles must have struck gold.’ ‘they can do things that are of no use, ever, in life— unless you wish to park your horse in a cupboard.’ ‘what the hell is this guy doing?’ ‘they’re training horses to look like burglars, y’know?’ ‘i thought it was half-time entertainment.’ ‘it’s always best to leave something to the imagination, before the imagination explodes.’ ‘i’m going to put my dick in this toaster now.’ ‘find the people, sellotape their legs together.’ ‘maybe this is the crack talking— but i think we should all nail our foreskins to that rocket. what d’ya say?’ ‘you can never have too many throw cushions— well, if you have 800 million that’s too many, i suppose.’ ‘i am tall, immensely powerful and can never die.’ ‘who will beat some sense into this crazy chicken?’

#— ooc.#— meme.#— mine.#rp meme #sentence meme #sentence starters #rp prompts

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squiddity3 · 4 years ago

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I’m doing this cuz it feels fun and retro

A throwback “facts about you rn/self revelation for fun” post! I’m gonna do it, but under a readmore because I feel bad making long posts. Do it please if you also feel like self-revealing for fun? I’ll read it if you tag me and I’ll think, “Rad as hell, m’dude.”

Tagged by: @fourteen--steps (like three weeks ago lol)

relationship status - married, but make it queer (as in “weird” and as in “not really strictly, like, heterosexual”)

favorite color - oh geez oh no idk context dependent (earth tones if wearing, greens/blues if looking at for other reasons I guess)

three favorite foods - oh geez, favs are hard, maybe.... really good sandwiches with good condiments and something pickled; a really good bread with like rosemary and olive oil and garlic; any sort of cake (a lot of foods are hard to fav because I eat vegan and, let’s be honest, there is only so good you can get when eating vegan)

song stuck in my head - Apes of the State’s “Moments a Year from Now” (also that one tik tok of the composer who wrote a little song fragment set to a saw whet owl’s call, on a loop)

last song i listened to - The owl tik tok (and before that, “Moments a Year from Now” idk i listen to stuff on repeat!)

last film i watched - Happiest Season (boo, gay trauma marketed as a romcom, everyone should watch Princess Weekes’s video abt it)

last tv show i watched - Buffy the Vampire Slayer (rewatching ssn 1, it’s wild!)

favorite character(s) - from.. Buffy? Buffy, probably, but then probably Giles (we love a man who unlearns the most toxic impulses of his background and ultimately trusts and supports a strong younger protag. against the establishment)

favorite book(s) - too many. Everything by Ann Leckie and NK Jemison, Murderbot series, Annihiliation tril., Animorphs. (Prob all my favs are SFF... not that this narrows it down.)

sweet, savory, or spicy - sweet

last thing i googled - "dogue de bordeaux” (for D&D reasons but also cuz they’re cute with the exception of, y’know, that brachycephaly, I was trying to see if I could find anything about breeding for healthier faces and find pics of that but didn’t want to get too deep into that area.)

time - isn’t real as we know it, did you know that it’s theorized that on the other side of black holes is a universe where times works in reverse? Idk what that means, there’s only so much a science communicator can translate theoretical physics, but it sounds neat and gives me existential vertigo.

pets - 3x tarantulas, 3x budgies, assorted cherry shrimp, 2x firebelly “toads,” and four new guppies (collectively named The Rowdy Three) whom I love and who are doing so well. (today I watched one start to poop and then another got visibly excited thinking it was food and snatched it out of the first one’s butthole and very quickly spat it out, they‘re himbos and I love them all)

dream trip - New Zealand; spent three weeks there as an undergrad and it was really great; didn’t even do anything exciting, I just loved the vibe/climate/biomes. (And L&P, which is a fairly unremarkable soda that I nevertheless remember as the most tasty soft drink I’ve ever had.)

one thing on my bucketlist - to see a porcupine in the wild. Or to see an elk in the wild. Or to see a whale, in the wild. etc. It’s all just animals I’d like to see in the wild.

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nebbychan · 7 years ago

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Donk and Sparrow - Halloween

Crisp and brittle leaves of all colors; scarlet, bronze, and gold all breaking off from their homes among the branches to gracefully cascade, floating along the breeze and landing on the pavement. The chill made it clear that winter was on its way, and any self-respecting Dallington resident would know that it was time to wrap their bodies in a multitude of neutral fabrics. Fall was a special time in Dallington, it signaled the end of barbecues, poolside parties, and humidity of the summer heat and announced the return of the infamous pumpkin spice lattes, succulent vegetables and fruits ripe for harvesting as citizens of all ages would charge to the nearest pumpkin patch or apple orchard to pick only the fattest and juiciest. But fall also served as a warning of the hard winter that was yet to come, temperatures were dropping faster than that of a piano at high altitude, and elderly residents would soon be packing and catching flights in Buffalo or driving to the nearest warmer states.

The worst of it all was the Christmas season.

Nebby had to relive those horrors year after year once she’d become working age, and make no mistake, the first Black Friday always left mental scars in a retail associate’s brain. She had no doubt that Tim becoming a sales floor associate at the old Sears in Pine Woods Mall will be one hell of a shocker for him. She didn’t do it in front of him, but behind the scenes she’d be crossing herself repeatedly and uttering, “En el hombre Del Padre, y Del Hijo, y Del Espíritu Santo. Amen.” Thankfully, Canny Tim had yet to fully grasp Spanish, though that doesn’t mean he didn’t know what “puta” or “cabrón” meant.

And what also served as a saving grace was the holiday that came before Christmas; Halloween.

Halloween was always a popular holiday in the states, especially in Dallington. Once a year, a massive festival would be held, honoring the town’s founding. Meanwhile, the town’s club owner and DJ, Salem had decided to pack up and go off to the mountains for the weekend. It was a strange tradition of hers; she’d pack the RV with all the essentials, and drive deep into the woods only to emerge on November 1st. No one knew why she did it, but when approached she’d instantly snap, “I just need some time to myself, okay?” Nope, definitely not suspicious at all, nope!

Of course, some punk kid would start a rumor that Salem was a serial killer or a narcotics addict, neither of which held enough evidence to prove either theories plus the addition of Nebby’s frightful gaze said otherwise. Nebby herself believed she was just writing new songs or trying to enjoy nature, she’d always remembered Salem as an avid hiker and birdwatcher. Lame activities, but someone has to have a believable hobby, right? Ann had her baking, and Nebby had her trips to the gym.

Nebby stopped by Salem’s small bungalow with croissants and parfaits, “Hey! Going on that yearly trip again?” she greeted. Salem had hoisted the last bag into her RV just as she’d approached her driveway, she smiled, “Yeah, oh hey, are those for me?” “Well who else in this town eats parfaits with pomegranates, dark chocolate mousse, and gluten-free vegan yogurt?” Nebby placed a hand on her hip and flashed a roguish grin. “Don’t you diss the good name of Velvet yogurt, its good shit and you know it.” Salem laughed as she accepted the care package, “So I hear this is gonna be Tim’s first Halloween, it kinda sucks I won’t be here to see it.” “Yeah well, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do anything with him; fucker’s still shaken up after watching IT last night.” Nebby folded her arms and scoffed, “Lost his shit at the sewer drain scene and wouldn’t keep his hands off his face to watch the rest.” “R.I.P Georgie.” Salem shook her head, “You know Tim’s a medieval solider, right? His time was really fucked up you know, and I don’t think introducing him to horror movies was a good idea, you might trigger something.” “He watched the entirety of the Exorcist without blinking an eye, matter of fact…other horror movies are just fine with him- well, except the time he got super nauseated after watching the Saw movies.” Nebby scratches her head.

“You think he might have coulrophobia?” “Canny Tim, afraid of clowns…? I’ve heard of his discomfort towards mirrors, but not clowns.” “Well, it’s a possibility. You said he couldn’t watch IT without covering his eyes.” “In his defense, I probably should’ve warned him there was gonna be a lot of child death in this…” “Well if he does, then you guys might want to be careful.” “And why do you say that?” “Well, I guess there are clowns popping up all over the country again.” “Really, are you serious? This shit again? Welp, welcome to Clownpocalyse, mother fuckers, buckle up!” “Yeah, I’d recommend carrying bear mace or something.” “I’ll add that to my grocery list.”

Salem snorted, “Anyway, I should probably start heading out before traffic starts congesting like flu season. You got your meds, right?” “Like I want to spend this year’s Halloween stuck in bed.” Nebby rolled her eyes, “you have a safe trip, okay?” “You better have some tamale ready for me when I get back.” Salem stuck her tongue out at Nebby, earning a playful expression in return. She waved goodbye as her friend pulled out and drove off. Putting her hands into her pockets, she sighed and began the walk home.

“Me? Going on a hunting trip with you! Oh no, fuck no, last time I went you nearly took an eye out!” Orion angrily pointed to his left eye. Kardok frowned and punched his shoulder, “’at was ower 700 years ago, wimp, gle ower it.” “I know you’re just going to leave me in the woods or use me as target practice.” The clone glared daggers at the centaur, folding his arms and tapping his non-bandaged foot. “Ah won’t, Ollie said Ah cooldn’t anyway.” Kardok groaned, “an’ besides, dae ye pure want tae bide haur an’ deal wit’ Zarok instead ay shootin’ deer an’ elk?” He did drive a good point, whichever minion that stayed behind had to give him a bubble bath. And bubble baths were the worst, last person to go was Oliver, and he was later found in his room rocking himself by a corner. Orion cringed, “Okay, I guess you’re right.” “’En gle packin’, yoo’re burnin’ daylecht haur.” Kardok shoved him towards the stairs, Orion stumbled and grumbled to himself as he regained balance and began walking up towards his room to pack. Oliver entered the foyer with suitcases in hand, “I’m so excit’d! A whole weekend trippeth all to ourselves!” he smiled, “and twas awfully kind of Zeal to lend us the RV, I wast almost worried we’d has’t to travel by foot!” “Aye, its bin tay lang since I’ve shot myself a braw stag ur tois.” Kardok agreed, stretching out his arms. He took the bags from Oliver and brought them outside to the RV. “Come your ways, doest that gent coequal knoweth we’re going on this trippeth?” Oliver inquired, slightly anxious.

“Ye pure techt Zarok…? Nope, has nae scooby whit we’re daein’.” “I see, then we’d best beest off ere that gent notices.” “Exactly wa Ah tauld Orion tae coorie th’ heel up…!” “Right, oh and ere we wend, may we cease at Lady Donk’s house?” “Wa dae ye want tae gang thaur?” “Just to inquire on which places maketh the best camping ground, we can’t just wend anywhere in the woods.” “Braw, an’ mebbe while we’re thaur she can hook us up wit’ some ay ‘er scran.”

Oliver grinned and once Orion finally pulled through with his luggage- even though he wound up falling down the stairs due to the weight, they headed out. Of course, there was the quick stop at Nebby’s house. Kardok stopped the RV and hopped out with the others, knocking on her front door. Lately he’d noticed the unusual change in setting, not just in this house but all over town; carved pumpkins scattered everywhere, cheap cloth with faces crudely drawn onto them, fake displays of witches and cobwebs. He’d once almost jumped at the sight of the giant spider resting on Ann’s rooftop! None of it was real, of course, but still, quite the scare! Apparently, this was for “Halloween”. Kardok had never heard of it, nor was he interested in knowing what it was about.

What also annoyed him were the inconsistent puns. Oh, the puns.

“Spooky Savings”

“Boo-ze for you”

“Three fears for discounts”

“Witches Crew”

God, if he had to endure one more pun, so help him he will go on a rampage. And wrestling with an enraged centaur was not easy. Just then, the front door opened, and standing there with a cup of tea in hand and glowering at him was Tim. He hissed, “What do you want, Bhaltair?” “Is Nebby haem?” He frowned.

“I’m afraid not, she’s gone to see Ms. Hallows at the moment.” He shook his head, “Now, please leave.” He was about to shut the door when Kardok blocked him with one of his hooves. Tim was getting frustrated, “I already told you, she’s not home, leave or I’m calling the authorities!” “Ah still need somethin’ ye ken.” Kardok said firmly, “I’m gonnae oan a huntin’ trip for th’ weekend an’ Ah need scran. Ye ken hoo te cuik sae gie tae it!” “Why you…! Well, first of all-!” But Tim stopped to think for a moment, a whole weekend without Kardok around? That means 48 hours of no hooves clattering against the pavement, no heavy breathing over his shoulder, and no threat of his magic arrows! This was perfect! And all he’d have to do was cook for him? Seems like a fair trade to him! “…fine, make yourselves at home, I’ll whip something up for you.” He sighed, slowly opening the door for him. Kardok grinned, but before entering smacked the mug out of Tim’s hand, causing the porcelain to shatter and its contents to get all over the wood flooring. Tim opened his mouth to say something, but just shook his head instead and slinked off to the kitchen.

Once he’d finished, he exited carrying with him several containers and pots all stacked together. “Alright, I’ve prepared enough food to last you the weekend, please return the containers and pots when you return, Ms. Nebula will not be happy to find that her cookware has gone missing.” Tim informed, carefully lending it to Oliver. And speak of the devil…

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” Nebby growled.

Kardok replied, “Huntin’ trip.” “Oh. You’re going too? Well if you see Salem tell her I said hey.” She brightened up, only to immediately darken, “Next time though, wait for me to get home before you decide to invite yourself in, and for fuck’s sake, quit breaking my shit!” “Duly noted, terribly my most humble apology by the by, we’re in a drive and this trippeth wast last minute.” Oliver nodded. “Its fine, you guys go on ahead.” Nebby shooed them away. Orion stayed behind, “Hey, before I go, do you have like, a bunch of scary stories I could use? I want to try and fuck with Kardok on this trip.” “Do I look like a fucking library to you? Talk to Winston, he should hook you up.” Nebby then shoved him out. She then glanced at Tim, “What’d you make?” “Oh, not much, just some honey cakes and chicken soup.” He laughed, “But I’m glad to see you back home.”

A grin crept up on Nebby’s face, “Awesome, I’m gonna head to the store to pick up some candy for the trick-or-treaters, you wanna come? There’s a chocolate in it for you.” She offered in a sing-song voice. “Make it two cases of sugar frosted cookies and I’ll grab my coat.” Tim smirked. “You fucking pig, get upstairs.” She snorted. “You created a monster Ms. Nebula!” Tim joked. “Fuck you!” she called back as he marched up the stairs.

Tim entered his room, it’d gotten better since he’d moved in; he had some posters hung up on the wall along with the many flowers Winston would gift to him on a regular basis. It’d gotten to a point where he had hung some of them onto the ceiling; it was neat save for a few fallen petals on the carpet. He opened the sliding door to the closet, inside was as equally organized. He had coats hung based off color coordination, size, and style, shirts and pants folded neatly inside drawers, plus he had a shoe rack to better arrange his shoes, ranging from sneakers to dress shoes. Other items were found such as a laundry basket and a backpack. He took a step back to think which he’d like to take, only to settle for a dark red coat with black buttons. After slipping it on, he practically flew down the stairs and outside, grabbing a lanyard and turning the porch light on as he exited.

The lanyard wasn’t anything special as it held a cardholder which kept his license and a copy of the house key. Latching the front door shut, he entered the passenger side of Nebby’s car. She smiled, ��Took you long enough.”

As they drove towards the direction of the supermarket, Tim looked out into the window. “Ms. Nebula,” He started, “Tell me more about Halloween.” “Sure, you want the short version or the long version? The long version also includes some of Dallington’s history.” She offered. “The long version, please, I want to know everything.” He answered.

“For starters, Halloween wasn’t always called that,” she began, “It has its roots in age-old European traditions, it started with the Celtics, and they called it Samhain, it was a festival consisting of bonfires and people wearing costumes and carving into vegetables to ward off ghosts. They believed that on that night, the boundary between the realms of the living and dead became blurred. So to any evil spirits, it was like a possession buffet for them.” Nebby continued, “But uh, nowadays people dress up for the fun of it…spirit of the season and all that. Anyway, Halloween didn’t come to America until the colonial times, but it wasn’t celebrated as frequently, but when it was, colonizers gathered to exchange ghost stories and start fucking shit up. At that time, they called it, All Hallows Eve. The holiday didn’t pick back up until the early 20th century during the Second World War, when kids started begging for food, marking the staple of Halloween, trick or treating. And Jack-O-Lanterns didn’t pick up until the immigration wave, thanks to the Irish.”

“But what does your town have to do with it?”

“Glad you asked, to give a better understanding, Dallington was founded by Quakers back on October 31st in 1643, before the Salem Witch Trials in Massachusetts. Before then, it was at first a clan of Irish, Spanish, and French immigrants, along with Native Americans and freed or escaped slaves.” She explained, “They were a small community at first, looking to help each other out and find true peace in the New World. The population was small; I’d say around 150 people- farmers and merchants before the trials. By that time, those who had managed to flee upon accusation came here to hide and later start anew. When the trials were over, on Halloween of 1693, the citizens had gathered outside Salem’s cemetery to mourn and give their respects to those who had lost their lives. Then a year later, a massive feast was held to honor them and those who had passed in their town or in the immigrant’s home countries, some female residents dressing as witches and male residents as demons…basically a middle finger to the Puritan assholes and to the bitchy group of teen girls that started the hysteria.”

“All in all, Halloween was the staple of Dallington’s history, serving as a break from the hardworking conformity.” She smiled, “Although, this is just barely scratching the surface. There’s a lot more to this town than a discount Dia de Los Muertos celebration to piss off religious conservatives.”

He blinked, “I had no idea Dallington had such a connection.” “Well, they did.” She chuckled, “Though, no town goes without its enemies. After that little stunt, in January 4th, 1694, nearby Puritan settlements launched an attack on Dallington. There weren’t any casualties, but they did try to burn down the library, which they hated the most, by the way. Yeah, they didn’t get along, like, at all. Hell, at the end of that month, they tried bringing the Witch Trials back, though it was unsuccessful.” “And why was that?” He wondered. “Easy, because all their women freaked out and moved to Dallington; and without women they couldn’t populate, so the remaining settlers basically died off, probably of dysentery or something to warrant the Darwin Award…” She answered, gripping onto the steering wheel, “Good on them, I hate Puritans.” Tim laughed, “Even if they’re not around anymore?” “Oh no, they’re still here, they’re just not called that anymore.” She shook her head.

They arrived at a nearby Halmart a while later, and after going inside, Nebby grabbed for a shopping cart and darted straight for the seasonal section. Being this was Dallington, their seasonal section was massive, as it took up nearly half of the gardening section! Stocked were bags of mixed candies, trick-or-treating pails, boxes stuffed with inflatable or cluttered decorations, and of course, costumes! Seeing as lately her hands had been tied with practically babysitting Tim, putting up with likes of Zarok, her store, and occasional trips to the gym, Nebby had little time to decide on a costume. But she decided, hey, while she was there, why not pick something out? And maybe she could include Tim in this if he wanted to. Walking through the candy aisle, she extended her arm so her hand would be knocking over all the bags, and when she began to power walk past, bags filled with candy began falling off the shelves and into her shopping basket. When she was sure her basket was filled completely, she turned towards the costumes. Tim kept close to her as they walked, completely perplexed by what she’d done.

“Hey Timmy, look at this costume!” Nebby pulled out a costume from the rack, it was contained in a bag, but the front had a picture of a person dressed in a blue tunic with white trousers and boots, and holding in his hand was a sword and a shield. It said “Breath of the Wild”, though in all honesty, everyone knew who this was. She grinned, “Do you want to dress up for Halloween? It’s not too late to get a costume!” “Isn’t dressing up a children’s activity?” he asked. “You’re never too old to dress up! I don’t understand where the fuck these bullshit adult expectations came from, just because I’m 30 doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy anything!” She retorted, “C’mon, at least try to have fun.” Tim sighed and took the bag from her, “Fine, I’ll give it a try.” “Yes!” She fist pumped in victory. As Nebby left the aisle, and Tim hadn’t noticed this before, he noticed a figure standing across from a display of inflatable ghosts, he’d only managed to catch a glimpse of a red nose and confetti-like clothing, the wide grin and light waving made Tim’s stomach flip. He was about to take a step forward to investigate when he heard her calling, “Hey Tim, are you coming? I need to pick up some bear mace.”

“O-Oh, yes, I am! Coming, Ms. Nebula!” He then exited the aisle, before he did, however, he looked back to find the figure gone. Must’ve been his imagination…or perhaps it wasn’t.

Orion stretched his arms as he’d finally finished setting up the grill Zeal had lent to them, “Thought I’d never get it done…” He’d been left alone to prepare the grill while Kardok and Oliver hunt for deer, which wasn’t at all what he’d hoped for when he’d said he’d like to go on this trip. Then again, it was either this or scrubbing Zarok’s back. And on the plus side, it was relatively tranquil in the woods; he’d almost missed the smell of pine cones and that sweet fresh air that filled his lungs. Maybe it wasn’t what he’d hoped for, but it was still nice to have proper time to relax for once in a millennia. When he’d thought about it, all he remembered was nothing but stuffy rooms and endless clashing against swords. He’d obtained many scars and bruises in his life, most come from either Kardok or Zarok himself. But just one, just for one moment, he could have a moment to rest. The first day had gone off without a hitch, though not much happened. They simply scouted the area with the little daylight they had left, finding the best common ground for deer and whatnot, Kardok had already marked which areas he’d like to visit on his map! Afterwards, they sat outside the RV and eagerly wolfed down the chicken soup Canny Tim had provided for them, and then turned in for the night. Today was more about him setting up the grill and waiting for his comrades to return from hunting, they returned earlier for lunch, and though he wasn’t a cook, he’d managed to throw some meat in between two slices of bread and call it a meal, even if it displeased the centaur. It took an entire loaf, a whole bag of cool ranch Doritos, and a jug of iced tea to get him back on the field, and it was understandable, with an anatomy as complicated as Kardok’s it’d demand the twice amount of nourishment! That’s why they packed extras.

He then turned his head in the direction of leaves rustling; thinking Kardok or Oliver had finally returned Orion opened his mouth to greet them, only for it to be someone else.

He’d seen her before on occasion, particularly when Oliver came to the club for an interview. Her ombre hair hidden in an odd looking hood; tan leather- at least he thought it was leather, adorned with horns, fur, and animal bones. Orion blinked, “Uh…hey Salem, what brings you to the campground?” “Nothin’, Nebby texted me and told me you and the guys are here to do some redneck shit.” She joked. “Redneck…?” Orion repeated. “You know, hunt and get stupidly drunk. I’ve seen it before; my Dad and Uncle Mason did it when they were young.” She laughed. “Are they here with you?” He queried, but Salem shook her head, “Nah, Uncle Mason’s six feet under and my Dad is with my Mom back in Oklahoma.” Oh, so her uncle was-?

“Sorry to hear that.” He said softly. “Its fine, he’s actually buried near my campsite, I come up here every year to pay respects. And my camp is not that far from yours, it’s about half a mile up north.” She smiles, “If you guys want to drop by and have a beer later, I’m open for it.” “That’d be great, but just a fair warning, Kardok can be an ass sometimes.” He laughed.

“He’s part horse, though it’d make more sense if it were half donkey.” “Good one! So, any reason for the weird poncho you got there?” “This…? This belonged to my Uncle Mason; I wear it whenever I come to visit him.” “You two seemed pretty close.” “Are you kidding? He was my best friend before I met Nebby and Ann! Don’t tell them I said that.” “I’ll try not to squeal,” He smirked, “But hey, before you go, do you have any scary stories?” “Why do you want to know? Are you planning on scaring Oliver?”

“More like Kardok and getting back at him for all the bullshit I endured,” He huffed, “I mean, I get it, I looked like some arrow fodder and bear half of his DNA, but the other half isn’t him!” “Let me guess, he doesn’t accept that you’re not who he wants you to be?” She sighed, “Yeah, I get it. And as a matter of fact, I do have a story for you.” She pulls up a chair and seats herself next to the fire pit.

“Alright Orion, you ever heard of the Wendigo?”

The sun had already set by the time Kardok returned, a fat and limp deer resting on horseback, a huge grin on his face. Oliver applauded, “Thee didst such a wonderful job! That deer nev'r saw it coming!” but his face then fell somber, “twas a shame we only managed to shoot one, doth thee bethink we've gone rusty?” But the centaur shook his head, “It ay practices mebbe, but definitely nae terrible.” They stopped in front of the campground, where Orion was found sitting alone by the RV. Kardok opened his mouth to ask, but was immediately stopped by the clone’s sudden remark, “Yes, the grill is ready, do what you need to do so we can eat already. I’m worn out so I can’t help, if I move another muscle I’d just fall apart!” Kardok huffed, seating himself by the fire pit and drawing out his knife to skin the deer and take its meat. Oliver stood by to take the undesirable parts and toss them aside, while also trying not to gag at the stench. Once Kardok had finished carving juicy pieces of meat, he got up to marinade them and put them in the grill.

As he did so, Oliver smiled, “Lest I so my most humble apology thee couldn't cometh, but, I trust that thee enjoyed the silence?” “I did, best three hours I’ve had in my entire existence.” He smiled back as he kicked back in his chair. But Oliver didn’t like that response, just as he was about to retort, Orion spoke up, “Seeing that it’s nighttime and we have a fire going, why don’t we exchange scary stories while we wait for the meat to cook?”

Kardok huffed, “Och yeah, there's th' Fortesque half ay heem...”

Orion rolled his eyes, “It’s a good one, I promise, and it does not involve a self-insert.” Though skeptical, the centaur seated himself back by the fire pit, mildly intrigued by that last detail. Oliver himself sat close by with as much interest. Orion grinned and rested his elbows on his legs when he crossed them, “Salem told me this story, she dropped by earlier to say hi and decided to tell me this frightening tale.”

“They say, that in these woods- for centuries even, has been inhabited by a petrifying, gruesome creature known only as the Wendigo.” He began, “She tells me that Wendigo had lived in Dallington even before the settlers arrived and started building their colony. Though, there is a way to become one of them. This spot where we reside in as of now; was once the sight of an atrocity, the worst that this town has ever seen!” Now color Kardok intrigued! “Gang oan 'en, aam listenin'!” Orion nodded and proceeded with the story, “It was back in December of 1643, the year they had settled, while most settlers stayed within its borders two families didn’t. They were simple farmers, living a mundane and monotonous routine, at least up until the winter came. It had crept up on them so quickly, that before they could expect it, their crops had nearly wasted and shriveled up. Fearful that they would starve, the husband sent his wife, infant daughter, and young sons to live with a friend in town while he, his older sons, and the neighbor and his sons stayed behind to try and salvage for any good crop that may have survived. Alas, it didn’t. By the time they decided to join the others in town it’d had all been too late, the roads had become too treacherous and it wasn’t long until they forced into the farmer’s cottage.”

“Little by little, day by day, their supplies slowly dwindled. The farmer grew more distressed as each minute that passed was another minute without food. The nights were long; the husband began to hear tapping noises, which he had at first ignored. But when food became scarce, the tapping only worsened, growing louder each night until all he could hear in his head was the tapping and the painful growls of his stomach, begging and pleading with him for nourishment,” He continued, “The farmer knew that he and the others would not live to see the first spring if they didn’t eat. On the 50th day, the farmer had a new craving, the last of their food had gone, and now, they had nothing. But he was determined to provide, but to do so have to come at a heavy price. He’d eyed his current occupants, deciding that the fattest would have to go. That night, he ventured outdoors to retrieve an axe, and then crept back inside to his second oldest room. That morning, they had food. The neighbor counted heads and asked where the second eldest went, as usually he’d be down here shoving everything down his gluttonous gullet, but no answer came from the farmer, who was busy gorging himself.”

Kardok could only cringe, he knew exactly what was going on, and dare he think a man could do such a thing to his own flesh and blood. But Orion continued much to his dismay, “But as quickly as it came, it’d gone. And so the oldest of the neighboring family was paid a visit, that morning they had meat again, but the neighbor and his sons refused to eat, they’d become afraid of the farmer. The neighbor had noticed a change in the farmer’s appearance; he’d be seen drooling frequently, he’d lick his lips whenever he stared him and his sons down. They’d tried to leave, but the threatening snow storms threatened to gobble them up, and would shove them back inside, back into the awaiting hunger of the farmer. Eventually, the snow had consumed the cottage entirely, and they knew that they would not live to see the spring. At night, the husband was spotted mumbling to himself; his skin became increasingly paler by each passing day and his hair had grayed and fallen out in clumps prematurely, his eyes would stay open and bloodshot as his hunger kept him up at night, his hands would be shaking as it held the only axe in the house, the only weapon for miles. The creaking floorboards made the neighbor and his remaining sons, knowing of what they’d eaten, beg God for forgiveness as they knew that the farmer would come for them, after all, he was hungry. There was no fighting chance against the farmer. Come spring was when the farmer’s wife returned, opening the door, only then screaming in horror when her eyes laid upon the figure that was once her husband, digging his vicious claws into and feasting on the insides of their oldest son, still breathing, clinging onto life. His eyes rolled back, his arm reach out to her as a warning.”

“It was already too late for him, and it would be too late for her if she didn’t run.” He shook his head, “And that she did, but she never made it out of those mountains. Witnesses claimed to have heard her desperate pleas for help, her cries of agony, but no one came, for they were much too afraid of meeting the same fate.”

Orion concluded, “The wendigo- the horrid creature the farmer had become, was a frightening being of Algonquian folklore, and was born when a man selfishly slaughtered and tasted human flesh in times of famine, the first taste would be nothing, but slowly his mind would only have one thought; he had to have more. And the more he’d get, then the more monstrous he’d become. And although he’d have the food he’d so craved- being at the cost of his humanity, it would never be enough to sate his gluttonous desires.” “Och aye but whit abit th' other kids…? Th' yoonger ones fa biddin wi' their mammy…?” Kardok’s eye widened. “Lucky for them, they thrived within the town’s borders, and never once did they venture past,” Orion grinned maliciously, “For fear that they too would become the meal of the wendigo.” Understandably, Kardok didn’t feel like eating and neither did Oliver, as they’d lost their appetite. Quickly, they scurried into the RV to cleanse themselves and prepare for bed, but they knew no matter how many times they washed their hair or scrubbed their bodies with soap, it wouldn’t be enough to erase the ick of the tale.

Falling asleep was a challenge as well, especially for Kardok. He lied awake, his eye still wide open. He could not erase the horrible details from his head, and why couldn’t he? He was tough! A story like this couldn’t deter him from having fun. This was his trip, his vacation! Whether it was true or not, he didn’t need to know. Maybe tomorrow when they return from the mountains he could drop by at the Gold Room downtown and drown these silly fears with a few beers.

As his eyelids grew heavy, as his muscles loosened from the pressure, and his breathing had become less anxious, he’d finally began to drift off.

But then he heard tapping.

Kardok sat up, but thought, it was just a branch. There was no wendigo here, plus, how would it still be around if no one wanted to come here? Logically, without any victims, the wendigo would’ve died of starvation. Okay, maybe they and Salem being exceptions but it was only fall! If these creatures only appeared in the winter- at least he hoped so, then he had nothing to worry about. But that wasn’t it, as the tapping continued. Kardok lied back down and shoved his pillow over his head to block out the noise, it wasn’t that he feared the wendigo, when something out of the ordinary happens; the least that could be expected was something within logic, the worst was the last thing on anyone’s mind. Perhaps there was a woodpecker or a homeless man trying to grab his attention, or perhaps it was a branch, the RV was parked under a tree, and loose branches were hanging close to the windows. Satisfied with this theory, Kardok began to relax and drift off.

But it wasn’t a branch, Kardok’s eye opened as he’d finally figured out what was causing the tapping; he’d seen Orion do it multiple times on their way here.

That was a fingernail.

Slowly, the centaur got up and reached around for a hunting knife, if it was an intruder, then he’d have something to fend them off. He was not afraid; he was Zarok’s Grand Champion! He’d seen much worse in his life, and had committed various atrocities not excluding murder. He’d ripped men apart with his bare hands, and he even shot a man’s eye out! The sound of the tapping bounced around the room, he looked down at Oliver’s sleeping figure, how in the hell could he sleep through all this?

Just as the tapping had started, it immediately stopped as Kardok then heaved a sigh of relief; finally he could rest easy now. At least, he thought so, as the tapping started back up once again, this time it was as if all the fingernails were tapping against the window rhythmically. He could tell that whatever was out there was just trying to get him to come outside, or at the very least annoy him. A sinking feeling in Kardok’s stomach forced him to edge slowly to the window; Oliver had them drawn closed before he went to sleep. As much as he liked it, he wasn’t necessarily fond of the sun getting into his eyes when he woke up in the morning. Reasonable, but considering the circumstance, it made Kardok all the more uncomfortable. With his free hand, he shakenly grasped onto the heavy fabric, the sweat that had accumulated and glossed over his palms was drenched by the curtain.

Quickly, he opened the curtain to see who it was that was annoying him. To his relief, it was Orion, hair strewn all over the place, strands sticking out into the air and covering a portion of his face- well, more so than usual. His eyes had bags under them and he was slouched over, clearly a spitting image of Fortesque. Orion yawned and whispered, “Sorry to wake you up, I had to take a leak but I think I accidentally locked myself out, could you let me in?” Kardok blinked several times, fighting the urge to grin and suppressing his laughter, for Oliver’s sake. Of course this idiot would lock himself out. Kardok quietly exited the bedroom and made his way over towards the door, careful as to not knock anything over, after all, this was Zeal’s RV.

He stretched his arms and his hand then rests on the handle, the door opened, and Kardok poked his head out, turning it to see if Orion had stayed put or was at least standing by the door, but he wasn’t there. He frowned, “Orion, Orion, whaur ur ye? Ah swear, if thes is a prenk aam gonnae make sure ye gie sponge bath duty fur lae ay th' year!” But no answer, only the wind and the crickets could be heard. Strange, where was he? He was outside just a second ago. Grumbling, he shut the door and locked it, if that’s how it was going to be then he could stay outside all night! Kardok went back to bed, and while he managed to get some sleep, it wasn’t long for the tapping to wake him up again. He reached around for the alarm clock; “Its 2 in the fucking morning, what is this man’s problem?” Kardok thought to himself, once again covering his head with the pillow to drown out the noise, “He has the entire woods to use as a bathroom and the forest floor to use as a bed, why can’t he just shut up?” The attempts were once again futile. The only way Kardok could get any sleep was if he just went out there and shut Orion up himself.

As he got up, however, Kardok realized he’d left the curtains open from the last time he’d gotten up. And his stomach dropped like an anchor when he saw that it was not Orion outside. Matter of fact, he wasn’t sure what it was!

This man- no, this creature was tall, gangly and thin. It stood there, gaunt to the point of emaciation, its desiccated skin pulled tightly over the bones. With its bones pushing out against the skin, its complexion an ashy gray, and its icy glossed eyes pushed deep into its dark sockets. It was as if it were a skeleton that had risen from beyond the grave, what lips it had was since long gone, red liquid dripping from between its fangs, though Kardok could see a long, slimy greyish-blue tongue slither out from between the gaps to lap the blood from over its yellowed fangs. And though they were separated by the glass, Kardok gagged at the horrific stench of decay. Granted, he was no stranger to the stench, but this…this wasn’t anything like it! The creature, seeing that Kardok was up, opened its mouth, matted black hair glued to the sallow skin. The maw revealed rows of its needlelike teeth, the hands were gnarly, razor-like talons, and Kardok could spot tufts of stained, matted snow-white fur. Around the neck and barely hiding beneath its fur the creature adorned a necklace made with human bones. And atop its head stood tall and proud, a set of antlers; whether they were that of a deer or elk, Kardok did not care, as he quickly sprang into action and shut the curtains tight. He turned over to Oliver who was still fast asleep, but now Kardok realized, Orion was still outside. Should he go out there? No, it was likely that Orion was a goner. But, Oliver was the kind of man who’d want everyone to stick together, “no man left behind” as they say.

To hell with it! If Orion’s gone, that’s going to be Zarok’s problem! He wasn’t going to go out there and risk dying again for this idiot! He wanted to be outside, so he had to pay the consequences. “Kardok?” he turned to see Orion up and unharmed, “What the hell are you doing? It’s 2 a.m.! Get some sleep.” Kardok blinked, how the hell was he still alive? “What're ye daein'? Ah thooght ye waur ootwith…!” He whispered angrily. “Outside…? Kardok, I’ve been in the RV this whole time, I just got up to take a piss and I came here to grab my flashlight!” Orion whispered back. So much for an honorable sacrifice, but still, it was good to see that he was unharmed. Kardok pinched his temples, “Nae, ye dornt need tae gang ootwith. Jist use th' a body we hae haur…!” “But the loo’s broken thanks to your fat ass!” Orion argued. “Jist use it, yoo're nae gonnae ootwith!” Kardok hissed. But despite his efforts, Orion grabbed the flashlight and proceeded to walk towards the door. He could’ve said nothing, he could’ve just let whatever that was out there snatch him up and gobble him whole, and yet, something within him told him he needed to say something.

Because without thinking, Kardok then blurted, “But there’s a wendigo it thaur…!”

Orion was seconds away from opening the door, he looked up at him and gave him an unamused glance, “Oh my god, Kardok, it was just a story, the wendigo are basic mythology and therefore don’t exist.” “Weel centaurs aren’t supposed tae be real an' yit haur Ah am.” Kardok crosses his arms. He did have a point there.

It seemed like whatever was out there had finally gotten fed up, as the RV began to shake. The sudden movement nearly jolted Oliver awake, while Kardok and Orion went pale as they then heard movement coming from the roof of the RV. “Its oan th' roof…! Its oan th' feckin' roof…!” Kardok panicked. “Then don’t stand there with your dick in your hands, get us out of here!” Orion pulled Kardok out of the bedroom and shoved him towards the driver’s seat. “Ah cannae drife, aam part cuddie…!” Kardok protested as he was forced to sit down, breaking the back part of the seat. “You’re going to be in half if you don’t drive, now floor it!” Orion yelled, “The force should knock this fucker off!” The centaur was fiddling with the keys, finally jamming them into the slot and turning them, but the damn engine wouldn’t turn on. Oh why, oh why did the engine have to go kaput at a time like this? Kardok kept twisting it, uttering “Come on” repeatedly, his voice cracking occasionally and nearly breaking the key when the roar of the engine along with the high beams turned on at last. Just as Kardok was about to put on his seat belt, the wendigo crawled down from the roof and onto to the windshield like a spider, its head turning a full 360˚ and tapping on the glass. Orion and Kardok let out a shriek of terror, Kardok then slamming his front right hoof into the gas pedal, the tires emitting an ugly squeal. Turning the wheel all the way, Kardok began speeding off and out of the campground, madly turning the RV to shake the creature off, but it persisted.

It was no surprise that in amidst the chaos, Oliver would wake up as he was now standing by the breakfast nook grasping onto the kitchen counter and the wooden table for dear life, fully awake and confused. “What's going on, wherefore art we leaving the camp?” But no answer from either was necessary as his eyes were now directed towards the wendigo, he screamed, “Oh mine god, what is that, what the fuck is that!” “Wendigo and it won’t come off!” Just as Kardok answered this, glass shattered in his face as the wendigo had slammed its grotesque antlers against the windshield and with just enough space to hold on, its claws reached in to grab for the closest morsel; Kardok. The centaur began screaming like Jesus was on him; Oliver sprang into action by grabbing a knife from the block, “Hence with thee, demon from hell, back to the icy void from whence thee cameth!” and sunk the blade into its wrist. Blood gushed and spurted out like a geyser, getting into Kardok and Oliver’s faces as the wendigo howled in agony, simultaneously losing its grip on the frame of the vehicle and falling off. The loud, satisfying THUD along with a tremendous bump from beneath their feet made them all sigh in relief. Orion let out a shaky breath, “Good job, Oliver, now let’s get the fuck out of these mountains.”

Way to jinx it, as now they heard sputtering, the RV was coming to a stop.

“Nae…! Nae! Nae! Nae! Nae! Dornt teel me 'at hin' hud fucked wi' th' engine!” Kardok hyperventilated. Unfortunately, it had, as within seconds, the RV had come to a complete stop. “Fuck!” He slammed his fists against the horn; the noise could be heard for miles. They couldn’t stay here, the windshield was already smashed and none of them knew how to kill a wendigo. And no doubt the creature was not too far away from them, and it wouldn’t be long until it recovered and came back for a second round.

Oliver had never seen Kardok flustered before, normally he was fearless- hell, he was Fear itself! But to see him reduced to this, it made him feel lost. Kardok was the one with all the knowledge, experience, and power to kill whatever crossed his path. But that was when they reigned in Gallowmere; this wasn’t Gallowmere, this was 21st century America and everything around them was a complete stranger to them. He didn’t know if they could kill a wendigo or not, heck, they might not live to see tomorrow if they don’t end up as a happy meal to a cannibalistic juggernaut. And rebuilding a body once it’s reduced to a chewed up, bloody mush was no easy task! Orion paced around for a moment to think; a lightbulb went off as he then whipped out a phone- a gift from Zeal he’d received a while back, and thank god, he was likely within close proximity of a telephone pole because he had bars! He switched the data on and typed into the screen. Kardok was appalled, “What're ye daein', thes is nae time tae be textin'!” “Shut up, I’m doing some research and it just might save our asses!” Orion snapped. A minute passed, and Kardok spoke up once again, “Och mah god, coorie up!” “Just a second, and…got it!” Orion beamed, “Okay, we can temporarily disarm the beast with silver blades, that knife Oliver used must’ve been made out of that. And it says here they hate fire, it’ll get pissed off but it should buy us extra time to run!” “And what about killing t, how doth we killeth t?” Oliver queried. “Stake it through the heart with a silver axe, lock it in a silver box, and bury it in a cemetery or churchyard,” Orion read the passage on his screen, “Use the axe to dismember the wendigo, salt each body part and either burn it or scatter the pieces by burying them in far, separate, and inaccessible locations like a well or lake.” “But we don't has't an axe, or knowledge of any nearby wells or waters.” Oliver shook his head. “'en that's it, we're fucked!” Kardok shouted. “Not if we leave the mountains, a small detail I left out was that the wendigo never ventures past its territory.” Orion frowned, slipping his phone into his pocket and opening the door, “We don’t have a lot of time, that wendigo might’ve healed by now, if we don’t move it’ll get in and devour us all.”

He was right, and before stepping out of the vehicle, Kardok armed himself with a few knives, a lighter, and a bottle of hair spray, just to be safe. Why he had a lighter and hairspray in his possession, no one knew, but at a time like this, it was best to keep silly questions until they were back in town. Plus, a makeshift flamethrower would be handy! Off they went, Orion using his phone’s flashlight as a means to guide him and the others towards civilization. Thanks to Kardok’s reckless driving, they weren’t that far off from the borders that separate the woods from the town.

As they wandered through the woods, the group stayed huddled together, and by that, it meant riding on Kardok’s back- Oliver in the back as the lookout, and Orion as the guide. Aside from the flashlight, it was pitch black outside. The dark clouds had swallowed the moon whole, not a star was out to light up the sky either, every tree trunk reminded Kardok of the wendigo’s horrific dried up skin, every twig that snapped beneath his hooves made his stomach jump. His upper body was shivering despite the cozy sweatshirt he had on, an icy chill breezed past him, tickling the hairs on the back on his neck and goosebumps popping from the skin. He could swear the winds were whispering his name, he wanted to stop, but he knew that if he did he’d be condemning him and his comrades to the mercy of the wendigo.

They weren’t sure how long they’d been wandering, but clearly it was too long since the sun was beginning to rise. And by the time they reached their neighborhood, it was 5 am, and they collapsed on their driveway. The men were sleep deprived due to their paranoia and therefore on edge after their walk that they’d failed to notice the squad cars outside Nebby’s house! But in all honesty, they didn’t care what happened, it was likely nothing compared to what they’d just endured.

To add insult to injury, an RV was sitting on their driveway, and out stepped Salem. “Oh hey, lost your RV?” Oliver raised his head and nodded, “We hadst an accident last night and we hadst to walketh home...” “Sorry to hear that, boys,” She consoled, “Oh, and my Uncle Mason said you guys were a lot of fun to hang out with, he wants to do this again next year!” If Orion hadn’t been as exhausted as he was, he would’ve said something snarky. But, something about that sentence didn’t make sense, besides, wasn’t her uncle dead?

Halloween night, unfortunately, Nebby’s plans to take Tim to the festival fell on its back when he’d displayed symptoms for the stomach flu. Turns out McDonald’s for dinner yesterday wasn’t a good idea, who knew his stomach could be as fragile as it is? Clearly he wasn’t lovin’ it! Still, Tim was not about to let that minor setback keep him from enjoying his first Halloween ever! He decided that he should stay behind and pass out candy while Nebby, Ann, and the rest go out to enjoy the festival downtown. After all, there was always next year. Before leaving, Nebby had set up the sofa to make it so Tim was comfortable and provided a waste basket in case he needed quick access. She’d just about finished adjusting the tiara and pencil on her costume, the others had already arrived; Ann was dressed as a ragdoll- a character named Sally, Una invited herself dressed in a spider web poncho and her hair done up in a high ponytail, Winston and Willow dressed in red jumpers with the tags, “Thing 1” and “Thing 2” on them with the tips of their hair dyed with temporary blue hair dye, and Sodreco…Sodreco was a unicorn. It took all within Tim’s power to not start laughing when he first saw it, and a good thing too, his stomach was currently in agony. “Remind me what you’re supposed to be again.” Winston looked up and down at Nebby, who posed heroically and declared, “Wonder Ramsay! I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to be Wonder Woman or Gordon Ramsay, and Tim said if I liked both, then I could be both!”

Willow giggled, “It looks strangely enough, very fitting on you! If I were a judge at the costume contest, I’d give you points for originality and creativity!” “Yeah well, if only I had a whip and a whole slew of TV shows to complete the look.” Nebby shrugged, “That would’ve been perfect.”

Winston seated himself next to Tim, who decided to rest his head on his shoulder. In response, Winston wrapped an arm around his sweetheart, “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay here and keep you company? I feel bad leaving my sweetheart alone on Halloween night.” “Its fine,” Tim smiled weakly, “I doubt there’d be a lot of ginger ale at the festival, plus, I don’t think I can keep myself standing up for more than a few minutes. And who else is going to hand out candy to those trick-or-treaters?” “Oy, Tim! You know what to give to the adults with crappy costumes, right?” Nebby called. “Ms. Nebula, I’m not handing out three year old M&M’s and bubblegum.” The archer frowned. “It was worth a shot.” She shrugged once again. Winston laughed, then gave Tim a quick peck on the lips, “Alright, I trust you. There’s always next year, I guess.” Ann joined in, “We can pick up candy for you, if you’d like.” Tim sat up, “Ooh! Yes, plenty of peanut butter cups and chocolate!” Sodreco smiled, going over to ruffle his student’s head, “You can only have them when you’re feeling better.” To which Tim pouted playfully.

Nebby, who had broken off from the group earlier, had just returned, “Alright, all doors and windows are locked, curtains are drawn, I’ve signed into Netflix, and there’s chicken soup and ginger ale ready for you on the counter.” “Thank you for your kindness.” Tim smiled warmly, “Though, if I may ask, why latch up the whole house?” “To prevent any drunken morons from breaking in; happened to me last year and it was a bitch getting all those frat boys out of my basement.” Nebby cringed, “I still remember the togas.”

Willow felt a tug on her onesie; she turned to see it was Una, whom after getting her attention pointed to the time shown on her lock screen. She concluded, “And speaking of drunks, I think we’d better get going, they’ll start coming in around 8.” “Ah fuck, you’re right.” Nebby grabbed her keys, “We’ll be back soon. Call us if there’s an emergency or if Zarok’s at the door, call Zeal.” “Have a good time.” Tim waved as she exited the house. Winston bade him goodbye by giving him another kiss, “Happy Halloween, my sweetheart, get well soon.” “And to you too, have fun, love.” He watched as he and the others left. Once they were all gone and the front door locked with a satisfying click, Tim lied back down…until he felt lightheaded. Thank god he was alone.

The first wave of trick or treaters came at least ten minutes after the group had left, and for a minute, Tim thought there wouldn’t be enough candy to last him the night. But thankfully he’d located the piles upon piles of extra candy, so all worries were set aside. This neighborhood housed a lot of kids, and he wasn’t exaggerating, there was a lot! Tim got up- on average, of 6 times every ten minutes to hand out candy. Though it may sound like an annoyance, it really wasn’t. Tim enjoyed handing out candy, and seeing them dressed in their costumes, whether store-bought or handmade made him happy. Heck, he just might be able to pull through! The last wave of trick-or-treaters came around 7:30 pm, ending with a little brunette boy dressed in the exact same costume as him. He ran through the decorations set up by Nebby on the front yard, and came to the door accompanied by his blonde mother. The boy held out his bag in excitement as Tim answered the door one final time. “Trick-or-treat!” the boy was grinning from ear to ear. Tim handed him a generous portion of candy, dropping them into the child’s bag. He swore he saw those eyes light up like stars as he looked at his mother, “Momma! Look! He’s dressed like me!” “I see that, my little warrior,” She giggled, “Now what do we say?” To which the child nodded and chirps, “Thank you, Happy Halloween!” “And to you too, have a good evening! Be safe out there!” Tim laughed as he watched the pair exit the premises. As he closed the door and locked it, he couldn’t help but feel that those two reminded him too much of his own mother and himself when he was a child. Fond memories they were, being an energetic youth yet at the same time oddly shy, the only bounds being his own imagination, which seemed almost endless. Maybe, if he’d been born another time, Tim would’ve been able to have unique memories like Trick-or-Treating. But it wasn’t like he could pick and choose when and where his life would take place.

His thoughts were interrupted by another pang of pain in his stomach, a sign that he’d been standing for too long and needed to lie down, he groaned and sulked back to the living room to lie down. Tim reached for the remote and hit the play button, continuing a movie he’d decided to watch on Netflix. The movie was called, “Halloween”, and it was about a masked serial killer that struck only on Halloween. Simple plot, but hey, it didn’t need anything grand for it to be good. According to Nebby- who recommended it, said it had a low budget but still managed to scare audiences across the country!

As the movie progressed, right as the killer was about to stab another victim to death, Tim jumped to the sound of the landline going off. Strange, he hadn’t heard that thing go off in weeks. Nebby made it abundantly clear to all telemarketers that she was not interested and to remove her from the call-list. She also had a rule about the landline, to which Tim quoted under his breath, “If it’s important, they’ll call again or leave a message.” And just as he’d predicted, after the first ring, the phone went off again. Ah, so it was important. Tim carefully got up, “Just a minute…!” Thankfully, he’d reached the phone, which was in the hallway; he picked it up and answered with a “hello”. He expected it to be either one of his friends calling to check up on him, but was instead met with heavy breathing. Now this was unusual.

Confused, Tim repeated, “Hello?” But all he could hear was heavy breathing.

This had to be Nebby calling; she was probably already drunk and butt-dialing the house. He rolled his eyes as he hung up, but before he could return to his seat, the phone rang again. Okay, this couldn’t be a butt-dial. But Tim didn’t want to answer it; he wanted to hear the voicemail. He got what he asked for, and what did this oh-so elusive voicemail consist of? If your guess was heavy breathing, then you’d be correct. This was definitely no coincidence, and Tim was now mildly annoyed. Those kids and their prank calls, ha! Tim decided that it’d be best to ignore the calls and let them go straight to voicemail. And while he felt like he’d made the right decision, he couldn’t feel as if something were off.

Two hours passed, and the calls had slowly become more frequent, and now Tim was annoyed. He couldn’t even enjoy the movie or even take a nap! Just how persistent were these kids anyhow? “That’s it, if these kids call one more time, I’m going to scream!” He grumbled. And what happened next? The phone rang. Tim growled, “That’s it!” with all the strength he could muster, he stomped over to the phone and as soon as the heavy breathing started, he let loose the angriest, most irritated scream he could conjure up. “There, see how you like having your ears bleed!” and he slammed the phone back into the receiver. He slumped back into his seat, just in time to receive a facetime call from Nebby. He answered, revealing his friend at the bar. He smiled, “Oh, Ms. Nebula! Hello!” Seeing her face calmed him down, it almost made him forget about those obnoxious calls. “Hey Tim, how’re you holding up?” She frowned, “You don’t look so good.”

“Ah, I’m a little irritated right now.” “Ah shit, is Netflix not working?” “Netflix is fine, it’s these phone calls I kept receiving.” “Are stupid kids calling the house phone?” “Yes, and they’ve been at it for two hours, I fear I’m getting more weary just thinking about it!” “Two hours? That seems a bit too dedicated if you ask me, are you sure it’s kids?” “Considering I just screamed into the speaker, I hope it is. Maybe they’ll learn their lesson.” “Oh yeah, you’re going to get a lot of those calls on Halloween, don’t worry.” “Oh! How was the festival?” “Wild, taking a break though, your boyfriend’s got the munchies and I need a drink!” “Just not too much, you have work in the morning.” “I know, I know. Okay, looks like everything’s all good here, I’ll let you go.” “Thank you, I’ll see you soon!”

Just as he hung up, lo and behold, the house phone rang once again. Tim was appalled, just how dedicated were these kids? He groaned, getting up to answer the phone, “Okay, I don’t think I’ve made myself clear; Stop. Calling. The house! What’s wrong with you? I’ve been sick like a dog all day, all I ask is for a nice night to watch movies and recover. I can’t get any of that done when you’re calling me every five seconds! If you call again, I will alert the authorities!” He was about to hang up when he heard a gruff, distorted voice, “Don’t forget to turn off the stove.” Turn off the stove? He turned his head to peak into the kitchen, and wouldn’t you know it, the stove was on. Bewildered, he set the phone to the side, and then crept over to the stove to turn it off. How did he know about the stove? And besides, the stove was already off when Nebby and the others left. These were no kids he was dealing with, but a lonely man stalking him.

Great, now he was the teenage girl home alone, just like in those horror movies!

And Tim couldn’t be more irritated. So much for a good first Halloween, it was bad enough already he was sick! He’d forgotten to hang up, as the voice then asked, “Do you like clowns, Tim? I bet you like clowns.” No, he didn’t. He didn’t like clowns, but he wasn’t about to tell this stranger that. He placed the phone back onto the receiver after hanging up yet again, now feeling slightly uncomfortable. “How did he know my name…?” Tim’s eyes widened slightly. But then his eyebrows furrowed into a frown, wait a second…He grabbed the phone and dialed the number. Zarok’s croaky voice answered, “What do you want, Andrews?” “Zarok, I know it was you calling me! Do you have any idea what time it is?” He placed a hand on his hip.

“I was, but then you screamed into my ears, you worm!” “Good, I hope I ruined your ears, now will you stop calling me?” “I did, I did stop calling you!” “Then why did you ask me if I liked clowns? I hate clowns!” It was silent on the other end, and Zarok answered in a confused tone, “You hate clowns?” “Yes! You asked me if I liked them! And before that, you told me the stove was on! Don’t tell me you broke into the house again!” It was silent again. Tim huffed, “If I look out the living room window right now, and I see you standing there, I will get Ms. Nebula’s handgun and put a bullet somewhere where the sun doesn’t shine!” He walked towards the window, pulling back the curtains to see what was in the front yard. Standing underneath a lamppost was a figure dressed in a clown suit, mask and all. It even had a phone held up to its ear. Tim grinned in triumph, getting his other phone to take a picture, “Aha! Now I’ve got you! I see you there, trying to scare me, well let’s see how you like it when squad cars are congesting your driveway!”

He then heard another voice on the line, a bit of bickering in the background and eventually, Zeal’s voice was on the line, “Hello? Timothy, is that you?” Wait. Zeal’s talking to him. There was only one person outside. “Y-Yes, yes it’s me.” He trembled.

“Timothy, it’s midnight, I’d hate to be rude, but you really shouldn’t be calling at this hour.” “O-Oh, yes, I-I understand. I’m sorry, but he’s been calling me repeatedly and…” “I see, I’m sorry about that, and Nebula told me you were sick, you poor man.” “Yes, I am. Don’t worry, I’m recovering.” “That’s good! My brother said you were about to call the police?” “N-No, I’m sorry, I think there’s someone else responsible for the calls.” “Calling you after 8 pm? Oh no, I believe you’re mistaken, Zarok is asleep at that hour. Is everything alright over there?” “Do you want my honest opinion? No. There’s a weirdo in a clown suit standing outside the house, and now…I’m afraid.” Tim looked away from the window, the curtain drawing back. Okay, okay, so there was a man stalking him, likely another if the stove was on. Zeal was beginning to sound uncomfortable, “Timothy, Timothy if you’re in danger, get out of the house! I’m going to call Nebula right now!” Tim looked at the curtain, and as tempting as it was to leave them alone and leave, he had to see if the clown was within close range of the yard. When he did, Tim was relieved to find that the clown was gone. He sighed in relief, “No, no, its fine now, the clown is gone. Besides, I know how to-“but as he turned around, he then came face to face with a rubber clown mask.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like clowns?”

Tim let out the most bloodcurdling scream he’d ever made in his life, dropping the house phone.

Police units arrived at the Donk residence within twenty minutes after Zeal tipped off police officers and explained that a home invasion was in progress. Nebby and the others arrived later than that thanks to traffic, and were alarmed to see cars parked out in the driveway. Winston and Sodreco burst out from the backseat when they saw a masked intruder being led out in handcuffs, covered in blood. Assuming the worst, they entered to find Tim, alive and well, lying on the sofa covered in blankets giving a statement to the police. “- I’d assumed it was a prank, but when they addressed me by name I knew it was no prank.” He concluded. “Timothy!” Winston hurried over to embrace him, “Timothy, what happened?”

“Your boyfriend managed to beat up and perform a citizen’s arrest on an escaped criminal.” The officer informed him, “From the looks of it, he threw the suspect out that window,” he pointed to a shattered window, both heard Nebby outside screeching, “OH MY-! FUCK me with my own FIST! He broke my fucking window!”

“Subject wasn’t able to speak due to a brutal punch or kick to the throat, and well, let’s just say he beat him to a pulp and call it a night.” The officer chuckled, “We’ll still be collecting evidence, however.”

Winston blinked, then looked at Tim, “Sweetheart, you did all that?”

“What? I hate clowns.

#Donk and Sparrow #((had to post here since DeviantArt says the file was too big))

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