#frightened rabbit head rolls off

[paintingofapanicattack]

While I'm alive, I'll make tiny changes to Earth.

[thelassoway]

Jesus is just a Spanish boy’s name How come one man got so much fame? To any me, it’s pointless to anybody That doesn’t have faith Give me the cloth and I’ll wipe my face

When it’s all gone Something carries on And it’s not morbid at all Just when nature’s had enough of you

When my blood stops Someone else’s will have not When my head rolls off Someone else’s will turn And while I’m alive I’ll make tiny changes to earth

So you can burn me ‘Cause we’ll all be the same, the same way Dirt in someone’s eye that’s cried down the drain I believe in a house in the clouds And God’s got his dead friends ’round He’s painted all the walls in red To remind them they’re all dead

And you know when it’s all gone Something carries on And it’s not morbid at all Just when nature’s had enough of you

When my blood stops Someone else’s will have not When my head rolls off Someone else’s will turn You can mark my words, I’ll make changes to earth

While I’m alive, I’ll make tiny changes to earth

[rowretro]

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕿𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖞

(this is a request I hope this went well!!!)

✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, marriage, blood, violence, explicit stuff mentioned (gore etc),Hyper feminine reader, mean af Riki

❁synopsis: The sweet, beautiful human princess married the cold, handsome Vampire prince, for a happy ending in both worlds, where blood shed and murders won't occur anymore. It's perfect, in fact they're such a perfect couple. That's what people believed, but they never understood how broken the couple are behind closed doors...

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"Listen... uhm Riki? yeah I think I'll sleep on the couch I mean I'm human- you're vampire, on top of that I really doubt you do want to share a bed with me-" "I don't want to share anything with you not like I have a choice-" He cut her off as she nodded, feeling awkward. He finally owns this girl god damit. Instead of being all scared and obedient, she's here, pink silk flowy nightgown hugging her in all the right spots, making her seem like a trophy wife. Nail's all blingy, with charms and hearts, her lips still tinted from her lipstick from before, and lashes all done spikey and stunning.

Riki couldn't stand it. She's one of those annoying, mean girl wannabes who body shame girls that are living life. So he thought. She smiled as she went downstairs, carrying her pet goat to the garden. Yes a pet goat, it even had pink light pink shoes, and matching pink bows. Riki found her intriguing. Annoying. "uhm... I don't wanna sound rude but uhm can you please not drink Veronica's blood?" she asked as Riki blinked "You have a goat called Veronica.... do you get bullied in school?" he asked as she frowned.

"Uhm I don't know how to respond to that.... Of course I don't- I can defend myself when I need to- and I don't think humans get bullied for their pets... Maybe vampires might but not us humans" She said as she placed her goat in the comfy little enclosure, and brought her pet bunnies in. For a girly girl she sure does own a lot of pets. "can I suck their blood?" he asked half jokingly as she frowned.

"Id rather you suck my blood." she said as she pouted at her rabbits, booping their noses as she locked them in the indoors cage. "Woah there Mrs Nishimura... getting a little too attached to a cold blooded vampire" he teased as she rolled her eyes. "I suggest you sleep in my room if you want to be alive.... not all vampires here are as patient as I am." Riki simply said as he grabbed her waist, teleporting her to his room. "I doubt you had to hold me but uhm... thanks?" she thanked, scratching her head as Riki smiled.

She's such a pretty girl, so cute, especially when she's shy and nervous, he's seen her smile, fake and real smile, and its so fucking cute... he wonders how she looks when she cries... He pushes her onto the bed, catching her off guard, hovering over her as he suggestively leaned into her nick, his lips gently grazing her skin. A smirk plastered on his lips as he could hear, and smell the blood rapidly coursing through her veins. He turned to look at her frightened expression, then got up, satisfied.

"You thought I'd actually fucking touch you.... pfft you're too full of yourself y/n... you really aren't all that you know?!" as she just uncomfortably scratched at her arm. It wasn't enough of a reaction for him. "Why do you think the real reason is behind your parents and not your older sister? want me to tell you why?! you're a weak useless stupid girl who fails her studies focuses on her looks no matter how ugly you truly are. You're so worthless they went all in and threw you in the arms of me. Me who loves human blood, especially the blood of a sad, worthless little girl, preferably pretty... but you're ugly" He remarked.

Y/n's eyes became glossy. he was right for the most of it, she was more creative than academic, she loved doing her nails and makeup, but it's therapeutic, and she wasn't the biggest fan of her appearance and her parents are very disappointed in her... she constantly lived in her sister's shadow. But Riki doesn't know any of that. He didn't know until he read through the thoughts that clouded her mind. She truly wanted to die.

She's absolutely ethereal, even when crying. "But you don't need them.... you're the most stunning woman I've ever laid eyes on so as long as I have you all to myself.... everyone is safe." Though his words were absolutely sweet, he's being genuine, he wants this marriage though she doesn't. Yet she can't help but notice something eerie lacing his words... his eerie obsession...

Since their wedding day, he was always with y/n, in the kitchen, in their bedroom, the living room, outside the restroom, even in his office where he forbids anyone from entering. Y/n pouted as she aired her lips, lying on her front on the comfortable airbed, piled with blankets and fluffy pillows. Riki snickerred at the cute view. She's always a sight he loves to see.

She's grown so dependant on him, such a typical 1950's housewife, except she has a loyal loving husband who drinks her blood of course. "Riki im boredddd can't I got to the living room and play with the bunnies?" she asked with a little pout as he got up. She stared him up, and god was he tall, she envied him for having such a perfect waist, but she loves him so dearly. "Sweetheart.... I can't go a second without youuu-" he whined a little, as he snuggled her.

"I need to pee-" she suddenly said as Riki groaned "no you don't" he said bluntly as he snuggled into her neck "no seriously I need to" "no you don't you're making an excuse to leave me." he said as she frowned "Riki im serious. my bladder can only hold so much. and on top of that, if you don't want your expensive tailored trousers, and this fluffy bed, and this nightgown you bought me to be all wet and gross and stinky I suggest you let me go pee now!" she exclaimed in a somewhat calm manner. He sighed getting up as he waited outside the restroom door, waiting for her to finish.

He carried her once she was done, sitting her on his lap as he worked. "Riki..." "hmm?" "Can I visit my parents tomorrow?" she asked biting her lip as he stopped writing, glaring at her coldly "no. you don't need them." He coldly said as she whined "But they're my parents I miss them!" "No you don't. Y/n you have me and im enough, if you want more company, wait a few years we'll have noisy kids. until then, me and your fluffy pets are enough understand?!" he warned as she frowned.

"Why can't I-" "I said NO. FUCKSAKE Y/N YOU'RE MINE NOW. WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO TURN YOUR BACK TO ME AND GO VISIT OTHER PEOPLE?! PEOPLE WHO FUCKING HATE YOU?!" he yelled as she flinched, sniffling. Seeing this he snuggled her, kissing her forehead. "awww im sorry for yelling at you babe.... but I love you and you're mine now you know? you're mine all mine."

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A/n: this isnt that good but oh well, have a jay ff in the waiting, and im currently writting a sunghoon ff inspired by Leo the movie w vijay (i had a dream)

[bitten-fruit]

Houndtooth | ⇦ Chapter 3 ⇨

Ghost x f!Reader - tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, abduction, bodyguard, forced cooperation, smut

18+ mdni - cw: kidnapping - 3.4k words

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞

“I’ll freeze to death.”  

You utter, voice low and tense; your cadence despite your effort is sheepish, as though you’re exerting every effort to reassert yourself as brave and unflinching. A mask to veil the shivering little rabbit you must spend most of your life trying to conceal.   

Ghost isn’t fooled by your disguise, by your attempts to obfuscate your vulnerability – no, he can scent your panic, that frightened wee animal at the centre of you, hidden beneath the baiting curves of your flesh. He might be able to see its reflection glistening in your nervous eyes, once he’s able to rip that sack off your head.  

The thought tempts a vengeful smirk that tugs at his lips. One he wished you could see, if only to witness your quaint bravery be exsanguinated from you at the sight of his amusement. 

Still, you’re not wrong.  

The dry air of the midwinter night must be dipping below the double-digit negatives. A frigid cold that Ghost himself had scarcely noticed on his expedition to your estate – shielded by many layers; woollen fleece under windbreaker under thick, gore-tex parka, face kept warm by his balaclava, fingers protected from frostbite by waterproof gloves. 

It’s a short ride to exfil by snowmobile, less than ten minutes – but, in all likelihood, long enough that the exposure could kill you by the time he hauled you to the helicopter.  

Long enough that it might freeze the mucus of your throat and lungs into crystalline shards, might blacken and petrify your extremities, might have your exposed skin sloughing off in a few days' time.  

Ghost knows he must return you to base alive. But, alive is the only condition that is expected of him. No expectation of unharmed. So, he is left to place bets on whether you’ll survive the journey.  

He could make a sport of it.  

He plays with your possible fates as though they were marbles in the palm of his hand, rolling them between fingers and uncaring if he drops them. 

“You might,” he chides gruffly, finally offering you a response. “It’d be your own fault for wearing a fuckin’ tissue.”  

His glower scrutinises you as he releases his hand from the doorknob, whose rattling must have informed you that he intended to drag you outdoors. He keeps his other gripped around your bicep, wrenchingly tight, he anticipates, hopes, that his grasp might leave bruises on your soft skin. You, slippery vermin, seem liable to flee at any moment, so he justifies it to himself.  

He watches your chest rapidly rise and fall, gratuitously exposed décolletage shimmering with a thin coating of sweat, it glows silky in the moonlight that illuminates you.  

You, standing as still as you can muster, covered only by your peony pink lingerie and a black hood over your head, hands bound with thick black cable ties – look like a scene out of a snuff film.  

Maybe you’ll end up in one. 

He finds himself silently appreciative you don’t have the satisfaction of seeing how long his hedonistic glare lingers on your cleavage; on the tightening of the edges of your lacy cups, cutting into the swell of your breasts with each of your quaking breaths, allowing them to pillow out of the top.  

Still, a small derisive scoff escapes you through the fabric. “I didn’t anticipate an outing.”  

You facetious little shit. Almost makes him laugh. 

Fine.  

With a shrill rip of Velcro, he tears open one of the flaps of a pocket on his tactical vest, plucking out a loudly rustling emergency blanket; a foil shawl folded neatly into a rectangle the size of a playing card, tucked into a plastic pouch.  

You step onto your back foot in an anxious reflex at the noise, little rabbit, maybe you’re expecting the worst. He hopes you are. 

But he’s doing you a favour. He grimaces in revulsion at the acknowledgement of that fact. Resents that you might be thankful for it. Tells himself it’s for the good of the mission – nothing more, nothing less. Reminds himself how much he’d otherwise relish in watching your skin turn indigo, left exposed to be ruined by the fatal ice of your country’s stark winter.  

Unwrapping it promptly, he tosses the thin foil to unfurl it, before floating it behind you. He pulls it over your shoulders, watching you wince at the sensation of it brushing against your bare skin. With rough haste he grabs hold your bound wrists, tugging them upwards and shoving the edges of the foil into your grip. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, a disingenuous show of sarcastic gratitude, as you roll your shoulders to adjust its coverage, holding the emergency cape tightly in your bound hands. The fabric of your hood sucks inward against your nose and mouth as you draw in a lengthy breath.  

“Don’t thank me,” he grunts, as he finally unlocks and pulls open the gargantuan, ostentatious entrance to your mansion; a towering double door, two thick slabs of carved wood. The frigid gale immediately floods into the gaudy foyer, forcing him to squint, its iciness pricking shards at his eyes and threatening to freeze solid the water that lubricates them.  

“Rgh – fuck,” you groan through gritted teeth, faltering bravery quickly giving way to squeaking panic. Your entire body tenses at the sudden gust of ice, toes curling and head twisting away from the blast of ice.  

He spectates amusedly as you immediately pull the thin foil to better cover yourself, admires as you struggle to do so while your wrists are bound.  

He adds, “…only delaying the inevitable.”  

Your negligée billows in the invasive wind, exposing your skin even further to the frost; not to say that otherwise it would do much to protect you from it.  

He takes an impatient grip of the back of your neck, the impact of his palm on your nape loud enough to emit a smack. He burrows his fingers into the fleshy bands of your tendons, driving you ruthlessly you towards the exit. Holds you upright by the neck like trapped game as you stumble over your bare feet.  

“Move.”  

You didn’t expect to be gracious of the sack the dog had secured over your head.  

Your unstable breathing warms your cheeks, the hot vapour of your adrenaline pumping from your lungs is trapped in by the thick black cotton, preventing the membranes of your nostrils freezing solid.  

The vice like grip of your hunter has not faltered, dragging you by the neck down the winding stone steps of your estate – the slabs free of snow by virtue of the heated coils beneath them, a renovation you yourself had requested. Of course, your husband had obliged. 

But your abductor isn’t steering you down your driveway, it seems, as you are instead led off the path.  

A gasping shriek jumps from your throat as your feet touch the layer of powder, snow packing between your toes; the frost immediately burns the soles as though you tread over shattered glass.  

“Where are we going,” you question through a clenched jaw, chattering with the cold, having to push your weak voice out of your seizing diaphragm. 

As you had anticipated, he says nothing. 

Stays dead silent, the peculiar beast.  

You’re frightened of him. Suddenly unconfident in your attempts to read him.  

It’s typically your strongest talent, a perfectly honed skill – reading men.  

Every one of them like a children’s book, predilections and intentions so blatant that they may as well have been scribbled in crayon. They believe wholeheartedly that they are mysterious, too cunning to be understood, so mistaken in their conceit; expecting that you as a mere woman are simply unable to comprehend them. 

Yet you have made a craft of determining what makes each one tick. Disassembling them like the gears and screws of a clock, surveying their quirks and components through your looking glass.  

Once reduced to their basic constituents, their most primordial parts, they are all the same. Always want the same thing. Always boil down to the same creature.  

Dogs. 

You’ve gotten good at baiting them. Leashing them. Taming them.  

This one is guarded. Keeps his teeth bared, keeps you guessing when he might maul you.  

So far, the only quirk of this one that you been able to deduce is that he wants you to be scared of him. Doing his best to terrorise you with his threats while enacting none of them.  

If he wanted to hurt you, or rape you, or kill you, countless opportunities to do so have been presented to him. You’ve been offered up to him so freely you may as well have been gifted to him wrapped in a bow.  

And yet, he hasn’t unwrapped you.  

That’s where your scrutiny has failed you. Like static distorting a radio signal.  

He provides you no tells. Tips no hand.  

He continues to act as though he is yet to impart his worst upon you. Vague about his intentions with you, in spite of his wandering eye. At least that is consistent with what you would expect from any of the dogs you have so far encountered. Acts too good, too moral, too chaste to take you; yet still gropes and licks and fingers and fucks you with his wanton glower. All the same.  

His claws cut deep into the cartilage of your neck as though he might hang you from it, unaffected by your whimpers nor your looming hypothermia. You feel it sinking beneath your skin. Freezes your nerves, turns the blood in your arteries into icy sludge, sends your muscles into irrepressible spasms. Your lungs ache, forced to suck down the very air that will inevitably freeze them solid.  

You gasp as you feel your knees knock against something solid; the dull ring of thick metal. 

His talons release your neck, finally, though you find yourself immediately longing for the warmth of his grip – the nape of your neck prickling with gooseflesh as it’s bitten by the frigid cold. 

Quick to thwart your opportunity at freedom, he takes prompt hold of you, gloved hands shoving past your foil cape and tucking under your arms. You squeak as you are lifted, uncertain how high off the ground you might be, though grateful that your frozen feet are finally free from their bed of snow.  

You’re lowered, then, your feet and ankles quickly parted by whatever frosty metal is now beneath you – then he drops you, and you land on your pelvis with a sore thud, abruptly bestriding whatever vehicle it must be. A snowmobile, you suspect.  

You feel him mount the vehicle behind you, his form hulking even when you can’t see it. You feel his breathing through the fabric on the top of your head. Heaving thighs on either side of you, you’re nestled between them. He even tugs you back with an arm hooked around your stomach, so you’re pressed more firmly against him, prevented from wriggling free. A couple fewer layers of gear and his body heat might even bring you comfort.  

Through his touch alone he seems unbothered by your proximity, by the pressure of your ass against his crotch. Not lascivious, though not disquieted. Steals no grabs, no rogue touches of any of your more intimate parts – though you’re not daft enough to assume he would shy away from it.  

You can feel the fleshy mass behind his trousers despite the thickness of the weatherproof fabric. Formidable even soft.  

Perhaps you could tempt him.  

With just a shimmy, an innocent readjustment of your ass between his legs – you offer just a touch more pressure. You might bump against him while he rides through the snow, might feel that pliable weight turn rigid against your back.  

You admit that he doesn’t seem the type to offer you special treatment if you offered your cunt to him. He’s made it known that he thinks you’re a slut, after all. In your experience, though, it works in your favour most of the time. Where’s the harm in trying?

But you feel the fabric of your sack hood twitch and quiver as his head lowers beside yours, he growls into your ear; 

“That’s not gonna help you.”  

Fine. Whatever. 

Worth a shot. 

It sounded as though he had uttered it through a grin; a very slight, near imperceptible drip of amusement in his malicious tone.  

But, with your hands bound, near naked, and blinded, your survival is dependent on him. Rather, it's entirely up to him.  

So you play it cool.  

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sheepishly respond, sweet and naïve, you get back into character. 

He huffs derisively, impatiently, perhaps. You let his arms envelop you as they reach for what must be the handles of the snowmobile in front of you, quickly deafened by the roar of the engine as he tugs on the throttle.  

Your body is abruptly forced backwards, tossed against him like a ragdoll as he suddenly accelerates - your fabric mask now provides you utterly no protection from the icy wind as it breaks through the weave. Your foil cape billows in the gale of his speed, rendering you entirely defenceless against the vicious knives of the cold as he speeds through the snow.   

Dropping your head, curling inwards on instinct, you find yourself nestling deeper into his shrouding form if only to shield yourself from the deathly cold he has purposefully exposed you to.  

After what feels like an agonising hour of having your bare skin dragged over a steel grater, you feel the snowmobile begin to decelerate, its roaring engine growing quieter and eventually grunting to a stop.   

You had thought you might be granted a reprieve from the painful gusting wind once the mobile finally came to a halt; but you’re still in a whirlwind of ice and glass, so disoriented you feel as though you’ve been spun on your heel and then cast out into the barren wilderness to find your own way.  

In the malevolent hurricane you lose your grip on your foil blanket, your only respite, it flies off into the ambiguous void of black forced upon you by your hood.  

But that mechanical thunder is unmistakable – an aircraft you were well acquainted with. A helicopter.  

A transport you frequented in your days of luxury, often to your warmer getaway home further south. To your Petit Trianon, another gift from your husband – one that acted as a clear means of getting rid of you for weeks at a time. Not that you complained. 

The begrudging protection of your hunter is stolen from you as he dismounts, leaving you utterly exposed to the blizzard, shivering with such intensity that your muscles burn with the acid they involuntarily excrete.  

But you’re quickly hauled off the vehicle, gloved grip under your arms once again, picked up with ease as you feel your body get tossed over his shoulder like a sack of flour. His thick arm hooks over your hip, you feel the veil of your babydoll flutter up and expose your bare ass to the icy gale - it humiliates you as if spanking you with its frozen hand.  

You hear the metallic rumble of a rolling door amidst the bellow of the rotating blades. 

“’Bout fuckin’ time.” The irate roar of a new man.  

You bounce on the shoulder in your stomach as you are carried within, listening as the door is slammed shut. After a few steps you are unceremoniously dropped onto a seat, a weak yelp escapes you at the pain of the impact.  

“Jesus fucking Christ, LT.” Yet another. Scottish.  

LT. Lieutenant? Military?  

Blind and defenceless, you stay seated but adjust yourself so that you sit upright, exerting every effort to catch your breath and steady your chattering bones. But despite effort, your body rolls around in its seat as the helicopter presumably begins its wobbly ascent.  

“What?” Your hunter growls.  

“Couldn’t give her a jacket?”  

“Why the fuck would I do that.”  

“It’s negative fifteen out there. Look at her, she’s just about blue.”  

“Mm. Maybe I should’ve given her the chance to pick out her favourite mink coat, eh?”  

You hear a huff of laughter from another man. “You just wanted to keep her in her knickers.” 

“Mh. Might loosen up her husband.”  

A chortle. “Could loosen up anybody.”  

Dogs. 

You stay silent and listen shrewdly.  

“Bravo Six to Gold Eagle Actual – double jackpot. We’re RTB.”  

Military, you are now certain. You can tell by the codeword gibberish without needing to understand it. You wish now that you had watched enough Western war movies to be able to translate it – but they’re all banned in Russia, of course.  

There’s a quiet murmur of a static-ridden voice emerging from a radio, but it is drowned out by the humming of the helicopter. 

“Fuck’d you do to Zakhaev?” Your hunter asks, throaty voice almost taunting. 

Your husband. Was he in the aircraft with you? Could you call for him?  

“Squealed like a pig when he came to. Knocked him out again.” The Scotsman. 

But, in spite of your effort to distinguish them, the unfamiliar voices quickly begin to blur together.  

“Tracks.”  

“Separate them before he wakes up.”  

“Why?” A new voice.  

“Can’t have him knowing that we’ve got her already. We need to surprise him with it.”  

“Kinda fucked up, Cap.”  

“Ts’all in a days work, Sergeant.”  

Captain. Sergeant. British Army? Airforce?  

There’s a few moments of silence, you shuffle disquietly in your seat. Oh, if only you could see what was happening. It was already hard enough to hear them over the roaring of the chopper. Deaf, dumb, and blind. 

“Christ, she’s a looker, though, isn’t she?” The Sergeant.  

A chuckle follows from the Scotsman. “Can’t even see her face, mate.”  

“Don’t need to.”  

“Never know. Could be all botched by filler and botox and shite. All those fuckin’ oligarchs are.”  

“Mm. Nah. I’ve seen the photos.”  

“Take a long hard look at ‘em, did ye?”  

“Definitely hard. Dunno about long.”  

A laugh. “You nasty fucker.”  

Dogs. 

You’re even further discomforted by the fact that your hunter knows you can understand every single word that these men are uttering around you. And, evidently, feels no need to inform his comrades that you know exactly what they are saying about you.  

He wants you to feel uncomfortable.  

He wants you nervous.  

You hear the thud of boots against the metal floor, uncertain of whose nor which direction they are coming from, though they approach you. You shrivel on instinct, curling in on yourself to hide your near-nudity from whichever of the lecherous men is standing before you. 

You jump, squeaking in fright as something heavy is tossed around your shoulders. Fabric. Wool, judging by the thickness and scratchiness of it; you use your bound hands to grab at the edges of it to blanket yourself, finally able to conceal your body from them.  

“Согрейтесь.” Warm yourself up.  

The Captain, if you remember his rumbling cadence correctly. 

“You’re too soft, Cap. She’s a prisoner of war not a fuckin’ damsel.” Your hunter.  

The man who had given you the blanket addresses him. “We need her alive, don’t we? I’m keeping her alive.”  

“Fuck’s sake. She’ll be fine.”  

The charitable one speaks to you again, voice low and close, as though he has bent down intending for only you to hear it.  

“Он ничего тебе не сделал, да?” He didn’t do anything to you, did he? 

“Oh, piss off. Who do you think I am?” Your abductor immediately disputes, having apparently overheard.   

You consider your options. Maybe this captain could take pity on you, if you played your cards right. You can deduce his type through his words and actions already. Nobleman. White knight. It’s a façade, of course. If he’s a captain as the others say, he has probably orchestrated this entire operation.  

Though, inexplicably, you decide honesty is your safest course. You want an ally out of your hunter.  

“Нет, он меня не трогал.” No, he didn’t touch me. 

“Told you.” Your hunter grunts.  

A laboured sigh follows from the captain. “I never know with you, Riley.”  

He scoffs disdainfully.  

Leaves an ugly silence.  

“I’m not an animal.”  

Next chapter ⇨

[wolken-himmel]

In which Leona brings (Y/n) a half-dead rabbit from a hunt. But what first looked like some sort of sick joke may have been more than that.

Like a beastfolk gesture to show affection.

Requested by anon.

"What did you do now, Leona?!"

A horrified scowl decorated your face, and you jolted backwards at once. All the while, you couldn't take your eyes off the sight in front of you: a trembling and very much dishevelled rabbit. Leona held the small animal by its neck, dangling it in the air.

"What do you mean?" the dorm leader asked in confusion.

As soon as he let go of the animal, you dashed forward to scoop it up into your arms. The poor rabbit looked frightened out of its mind, trembling and wailing like it feared for its death. At first, it thrashed around in your arms — but as soon as it realised that you meant no harm, it buried its head deeper into your shoulder. You hummed softly and continued to cradle it in your arms.

"The poor thing! You almost scared it to death, Leona..." you cried out angrily. "Look at the frightened bunny..."

The beastman furrowed his eyebrows further. "I don't get it. Why are you crying?" he asked in genuine confusion.

His baffled scowl infuriated you even more. But before you could explode with anger and worry, you decided to focus your attention on the still shivering rabbit in your grasp. You tenderly brushed its ears back and buried your face in its soft fur. "Everything will be alright..." you cooed and felt its shivering lessen. "Worry not, I will protect you from the evil predator. He won't hurt you anymore."

"Really? Now I'm the bad guy?" Leona quirked an eyebrow in disbelief.

"You're the one who hurt this innocent creature."

An annoyed growl escaped his throat at your words. He narrowed his eyes at you, but you didn't seem intimidated in the slightest. On the contrary, you tightened your hold on the rabbit and glared back at him.

"Has no one explained to you yet that this is the cycle of life?"

"Perhaps so," you shot back. "But I don't appreciate you bringing me a half-dead rabbit. What kind of strange joke is this?"

Leona felt his ears flatten against his head and his hands tighten into fists. With every second he spent watching you coddle the rabbit, he grew more angry — until he couldn't take it anymore. Finally, he threw his hands into the air. "Fine, do whatever you want," he growled and whipped around to stomp away. "Keep the rabbit. I don't care." Without another word, he exited the courtyard.

Behind the doors, Ruggie was already waiting for him. "So that didn't go as planned?" the hyena asked sheepishly while running after his dorm leader.

"No."

Ruggie let out a little sigh, a little bit breathless by the other's quick pace. "The prefect must have misunderstood your intentions," he muttered comfortingly. "And you didn't even care to explain what this gesture meant."

"Whatever. It happened."

Again, Ruggie exhaled — although this time, annoyance echoed in his voice. "Don't you dare 'whatever' me..." he grumbled under his breath and rolled his eyes. Finally, unable to continue this hellish quick pace, he jumped in front of Leona and blocked his path. A look of determination flashed across the hyena's face. "Listen, why don't you apologise to (Y/n) and then explain everything properly?"

"No way," Leona grumbled and tried to shove his fellow dorm member out of the way.

Much to his dismay, Ruggie dodged his hands easily. A few snickers even escaped the hyena's lips. "I understand that it's embarrassing. I mean... wasn't this your first attempt of courting the prefect—"

"Don't you dare continue, hyena."

"Look, someone's embarrassed!" Ruggie's laughter grew even louder.

By then, Leona had covered his ears with his hands, his eyes scrunched up in exasperation. His lips were pursed into a thin line, yet he eventually managed to press out, "Fine, I'll go talk to the herbivore if you'll stop pestering me..." The ceasing laughter made him open his eyes to find a giant grin on his fellow beastman's face.

"It's a deal!" Ruggie looked satisfied, without a doubt — a little bit smug, too. "Oh, what would you do without me, dorm leader?"

"All of this was your idea in the first place, anyway... The herbivore wouldn't be angry at me if it weren't for you."

Despite the tension in the air, the second-year merely began laughing loudly. With his hands behind his head, he leisurely walked away, now that he had achieved his goal. "Well, perhaps you took one step backwards... but this is your chance to take two forward!" he threw over his shoulder, grinning. "If you catch my drift~"

°

°

°

It was later that day when Leona found the perfect opportunity to speak to you again. Seated on a bench in the botanical garden, you were watching in glee as your newfound rabbit friend hopped in circles around you. The small animal seemed to be back to normal, joyful and lively whenever you brushed its ears.

Yet, as soon as it sensed his presence in the area, the small rabbit immediately darted over to you and leapt into your arms. There, it quivered and shivered, trying to press its tiny body even further into your chest. Confusion laced your voice when you asked the rabbit what was wrong — only to realise the answer yourself when a familiar voice reached your ears.

"Herbivore."

Slowly, you glanced up to find a familiar lion beastman towering over you. At once, you narrowed your eyes and mustered the angriest glare you could send him. "Oh, it's you..." you grumbled and comforted the rabbit gently.

Leona let out a small sigh. "Is the... rabbit alright?"

"Yes, Mr. Cuddles is doing much better now."

"You already named the fluff ball?" He quirked his eyebrows in amusement, especially when he noticed how your cheeks warmed up slightly. When you merely avoided his gaze, flustered, he began chuckling to himself. "Don't tell me you're planning to keep him."

"No..." After having pressed a kiss to the rabbit's head, you let out a disappointed sigh. "Sadly, Ramshackle is no place to keep a bunny. I mean, all the dust can't be good for them."

The dorm leader huffed in satisfaction. "Good."

"Is there anything else you wanted from me?" you asked after a while of silence had passed. The rabbit, despite your attempts of comforting it, still felt uneasy, based on the way it wiggled and shivered.

Leona tensed up at your question. "Yes..." A dreadful sigh escaped his lips, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to reach its highpoint. His eyes darkened in conflict, but he eventually whispered, "I'm here to apologise?"

"You make it sound like a question." You quirked an eyebrow mockingly.

His apologetic attitude went out of the window at once, and he instead began growling. And this time, you were so caught off-guard that you shrank into yourself. With his ears pressed flat against his head, he asked in frustration, "Do you know why I gave you the rabbit?" You were about to spit another witty comeback, but he stopped you before you could open your mouth. "I hunted it for you. It's a gesture of caring for one another — showing affection and what not..."

The way his voice became quieter and quieter — you knew that he was being genuine about the situation. So, with your mouth open in confusion, you merely cried out, "You... care for me?" The surprise in your voice turned into smugness once he pursed his lips and remained silent.

"Not if you continue to grin like that, herbivore."

Your lips morphed into a wide and bright smile, and all the hostility you had harboured against him suddenly disappeared. A sheepish chuckle escaped your lips. "I mean... no bunnies were harmed in the process," you trailed off playfully. "So, thank you for the gesture? I appreciate it. But you don't expect me to hunt you a rabbit, do you?"

This time, it was his turn to grin in satisfaction. "Now that would be a funny idea."

[clangenrising]

Month 15 - Newleaf

Mystique went into labor around sunhigh. Russetfrond was out on border patrol when it happened and the moment he got back, Barleybee came to let him know. 

“Thank you,” he said, gratitude quickly overwhelmed with nerves. 

“Of course,” she smiled sympathetically. “She’s still in the elders’ den. Sagetooth and my dad are with her.” 

“Alright,” he nodded. They stood there for an awkward moment, neither sure what to do, before Barleybee dipped her head and left him to his business. His mind was completely empty and going faster than a frightened rabbit at the same time. After either a few moments or several minutes, he wasn’t sure, Russetfrond gathered himself together and went to sit outside the elders’ den. 

He resisted the urge to pace or to barge into the den to ask how things were going. He’d seen too many anxious parents-to-be get their ears chewed off by Sagetooth when they intruded on a kitting in progress. Instead, he sat still and tried to focus on his breathing, on emptying all worry from his mind. Today was important, the birth of his eldest kits. He wasn’t going to squander it worrying. He was going to focus on his new family, on the beginning of a new chapter in his ultimate legacy. 

The time dragged by at an unbearable crawl. Every so often a cat stopped by to congratulate him or ask him how things were going. He remained as polite as possible but kept things short. He didn’t want any distractions. 

Eventually, an hour or so later, Sagetooth stepped outside, blood on her paws, and glanced over at him. “Are you ready?” 

“Is any father ever ready?” he asked, almost hoping she would say yes.

“I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. A quiet moment passed as Sagetooth let her gaze drift across the camp. When it finally settled on him again, she said, “Congratulations on two healthy boys. Be warned though: the kittypet is in a mood.” 

“I’m sure I can handle it,” he said, a fond smile spreading across his face. “Thank you, Sagetooth. I mean it.” 

“Of course, kit,” she softened slightly. “Go meet your sons.” Russetfrond nodded and slipped past her into the den, letting his tail brush against her leg as he did. Inside, Mystique was laying in her nest, her head flat on the ground like a mopy kitten while she talked softly with Oddstripe. 

“-bring you some chamomile later,” Oddstripe was saying. “It’s gonna be alright, sweetheart. Don’t hesitate to call me if you start feeling any worse.” 

“...‘Kay,” Mystique sighed moodily, eyes flickering over Russetfrond. He tried not to scowl. 

Oddstripe bumped foreheads with Mystique and then picked up the birthwaste and stood to leave. Spotting Russetfrond he frowned slightly, if sympathetically, and slipped out of the den past him. Russetfrond shifted his weight, looked at Mystique, and she sighed and rolled her eyes over to the far wall. 

Russetfrond stepped closer, focusing on the two gently squirming bodies nestled up against her belly. They were so tiny. Russetfrond realized suddenly that he’d never seen kittens this… new. The kits - his boys - were a little wet yellow lump and a little wet blue lump mewling pathetically as they wriggled closer to Mystique. It was strange, the surge of emotion that he felt upon seeing them. He’d never felt so intensely protective before, it was a bit startling. 

“Hello, there, little ones,” he said awkwardly, crouching down beside them. “I’m your father.” Mystique huffed and shifted her position a little bit, still not looking at him. He couldn’t stop himself from scowling at her but tried to soften his expression again with a sigh. 

“You haven’t named them yet, have you?” he asked, a note of irritation sneaking in to his voice despite his best efforts. 

“No,” Mystique said as if he were the dumbest cat alive. “Why would I name them?” 

That caused his hackles to rise. “Because they’re your children, mouse-brain,” he scoffed.

Mystique’s tail lashed and she flopped her head sideways to glare at him. “No, I feel like you made it pretty clear they were your children.” 

“Look,” Russetfrond took a deep breath to try and anchor himself, “I didn’t come in here to fight with you, let’s just… forget it, alright?” 

“Easy for you to say,” Mystique grumbled, looking away again. Russetfrond dug his claws into the earth and did his very best not to say anything at all. After a few, slow breaths, he refocused on the kittens. They would need names, of course. He had unfortunately forgotten to think about names before now. 

“I’ll call them…” He hesitated before going with the first thoughts that came to mind, “Bluekit and Yellowkit.”

“Wow,” Mystique laughed and he could hear the eye roll in her voice, “so original.” 

“If you think they’re bad names then why don’t you try to do better,” he snapped, tail bristling. 

“I don’t give a shit what you call them,” growled Mystique. “The moment Sagetooth lets me, I'm going home and I’ll never see them or you ever again!” 

“Well, that’s fine by me,” Russetfrond huffed. “I wouldn’t want you influencing them anyway.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Mystique laughed harshly, “better to have a bunch of murderers raise them. That’s SO much better!” 

Russetfrond bristled. “Your brother was the murderer. He attacked Goldenstar out of spite, I was just defending my Clan.” 

“Well clearly it wasn’t that bad ‘cause she’s fine,” Mystique snarled. Tears were starting to form in her eyes and drip down the bridge of her nose. “You think you’re so special but you’re never gonna convince me that it’s good that you killed him! I hate you! I hate you and your stupid kits and this stupid den!”

“Don’t talk about them like that,” he growled lowly. 

“You’re lucky I don’t throw them in the river!” hissed Mystique.

Russetfrond bristled and arched his back. “You harm one hair on their pelts and I’ll make sure you never see your precious twolegs again! Is that what you want?” 

“I want to go home!” she cried at the top of her lungs and the kittens squealed in displeasure. “I want my brother back!” 

“Well too bad!” he shouted back at her. “You can’t always have what you want, you spoiled little brat!” 

“I hate you!” Mystique screamed, eyes shut tight with the effort of it. “I hate you! I hate you! I-”

“What is going on in here!?” Sagetooth’s voice cut through their argument, quick and sharp, leaving Russetfrond standing in a puddle of guilt. The healer’s eyes flicked between the both of them, looking for a culprit. Russetfrond couldn’t hold her gaze and dropped his eyes to the floor shamefully. Mystique breathed harshly through her nose and looked away again. 

“Out,” Sagetooth ordered Russetfrond. 

He couldn’t think of anything to say. With an affirmative grunt, he stepped outside. Fogpaw and Slatepaw were staring with wide eyes from the fresh-kill pile. Pantherhaze, Ospreymask, Barleybee, and Lakekit had all emerged to see what was going on. Shame covered Russetfrond like a winter coat. Unable to bear their stares, he strode briskly into the healers’ den and tucked himself away out of sight. 

There was a long moment of quiet guilt - why had he done that? What was wrong with him? - and then he heard Sagetooth snapping at the assembled cats, “Where did he go?” 

“Your den,” offered Slatepaw obediently. 

“Thank you,” said Sagetooth just as harshly as she had inquired after him and he braced himself. Sagetooth came stomping in, tail lashing back and forth, and spotted him immediately. He expected her to start laying into him but instead, she sighed and trundled over to sit next to him. 

“I tried to warn you,” she grumbled. 

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not entirely your fault,” Sagetooth shook her head. “Mystique is reacting poorly to the pregnancy.” 

“Clearly,” he huffed. 

“No, I mean physically,” Sagetooth said. “Kitting takes a toll on a cat and sometimes it can make them miserable for seemingly no reason. They call it a Kitten Crash.” 

“Oh,” he frowned in surprise. 

“So,” Sagetooth continued, her own voice strained with frustration for a moment, “as much as her particular form of crashing drives me mad, we need to be gentle with her.” It was clear Sagetooth was going to have as much trouble with that as he was. “She can’t exactly help it. And if her symptoms worsen, it could be very bad.” 

“Bad how?” asked Russetfrond carefully.

“Well, she could stop eating,” Sagetooth sighed. “Or refuse to nurse. Worst case scenario she tries to hurt herself or the kits.” 

“What?” fear spiked through his body like a jolt of electricity. “Shouldn’t we get them away from her?”

“No,” Sagetooth shook her head again. “She’s the only one who can feed them at the moment and that’s not a guarantee, it’s just a worst case scenario. That’s why we need to be gentle with her. The less stressed she is, the less likely it is that she’ll do something foolish.” 

Russetfrond swallowed, throat tight, and sat with that information for a bit. The idea of leaving a dangerous cat alone with his kits, a cat who hated him so much, made every inch of his pelt crawl like it was full of ants. She had already threatened to throw them in the river, a threat that was suddenly a lot more serious than he had first thought. 

“You’re sure it will be alright?” he asked eventually. 

“If it gets to a point where it’s dangerous, we’ll do something about it,” Sagetooth said. “She should probably still have a guard at all times so they can monitor her for any bad behavior.” Russetfrond nodded and started thinking of the best cats to do that. 

“The important thing,” Sagetooth continued, “is to keep her happy. Oddstripe and I will do our best on the herbs side of things but you should probably stay out of the den, at least for a while.” 

Russetfrond sighed and nodded. “Alright. That won’t affect the kits negatively?” 

“I don’t think so,” Sagetooth said. “Not anymore than a normal foundling would be affected.” Russetfrond hummed in discomfort. It wasn’t ideal, that was for sure, but what else could he do? He didn’t want to accidentally provoke Mystique into harming the kittens.

“Did you name them?” asked Sagetooth.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, shaking his thoughts away. “Yellowkit and Bluekit, respectively.” 

Sagetooth huffed a little laugh. “Well, I can’t say they’re not fitting.” Russetfrond smiled a little. “Congratulations, by the way,” continued Sagetooth. “You’re going to be an excellent father.” 

“I can only hope so,” he said. 

“StarClan will guide you,” she said. “Trust your heart. It will be okay, kit.”

UPDATES:

- Mystique gives birth to a litter of two kittens. Russetfrond names them Bluekit and Yellowkit.

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

The Modern Leper • I Feel Better • Good Arms Vs. Bad Arms • Fast Blood • Old Old Fashioned • The Twist • Bright Pink Bookmark • Head Rolls Off • My Barkwards Walk • Keep Yourself Warm • Extrasupervery • Poke • Floating In the Forth • Who'd You Kill Now?

Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ Youtube

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

The Bell Witch Haunting

In the early 1800s, John Bell moved his family from North Carolina to the Red River bottomland in Robertson County, Tennessee, settling in the Red River community, which later became the present-day Adams, Tennessee.  Bell purchased some land and a large house for his family. 

One day in 1817, John Bell was inspecting his corn field when he encountered a strange-looking animal sitting in the middle of a corn row. Shocked by the appearance of this animal, which had the body of a dog and the head of a rabbit, Bell shot several times. The animal vanished. This was the first documented manifestation of the entity. Bell thought nothing more of the incident, at least not until after dinner. That evening, the family began hearing "beating" sounds on the outside walls of their log home.

The mysterious sounds continued with increased frequency and force each night. Bell and his sons often hurried outside to catch the culprit but always returned empty-handed.  In the weeks that followed, the Bell children began waking up frightened, complaining that rats were gnawing at their bedposts. Not long after that, the children began complaining of having having their bed covers pulled from them and their pillows tossed onto the floor by a seemingly invisible entity.

As time went on, the Bells began hearing faint, whispering voices, which too weak to understand but sounded like a feeble old woman singing hymns. The encounters escalated, and the Bells’ youngest daughter, Betsy Bell, began experiencing brutal encounters with the invisible entity. It would pull her hair and slap her relentlessly, often leaving welts and hand prints on her face and body.  The disturbances, about which John Bell had vowed his family to secret, finally escalated to the point that he shared his "family trouble" with his closest friend and neighbor, James Johnston.

Sceptical at first, Johnston and his wife spent the night at the Bell home. Things began peacefully, but once they retired for the evening, they were subjected to the same terrifying disturbances that the Bells had been experiencing. After their bedcovers were yanked off and James was slapped, he sprang out of bed, exclaiming, "In the name of the Lord, who are you and what do you want!" The entity did not respond; the rest of the night was peaceful. The next morning, Mr. Johnston explained to the Bells that the culprit was likely an "evil spirit, the kind that the Bible talks about." The entity's voice strengthened over time and became loud and unmistakable. It sang hymns, quoted scripture, carried on intelligent conversation, and once even quoted, word-for-word, two sermons that were preached at the same time on the same day, thirteen miles apart. 

The spirit grew stronger and more aggressive over time, particularly picking on John Bell claiming to want to kill him. Bell had been experiencing episodes of twitching in his face and difficulty swallowing for almost a year, and the malady grew worse with time. By the fall of 1820, his declining health had confined him to the house, where the malicious entity continuously removed his shoes when he tried to walk, and slapped his face when he recovered from his numerous seizures. Her shrill voice was heard all over the farm, cursing and chastising "Old Jack Bell," the nickname she had given him. John Bell breathed his last breath on the morning of December 20, 1820, after slipping into a coma a day earlier. Immediately after his death, his family found a vial of strange black liquid in the cupboard. John, Jr. sprinkled two drops on the cat's tongue. The cat jumped up into the air, rolled over in mid air, and was dead when it hit the floor. The entity then exclaimed, "I gave Ol' Jack a big dose of that last night, which fixed him!" John, Jr. tossed the mysterious vial into the fireplace. It burst into a bright blue flame and shot up the chimney.

John Bell's funeral was one of the largest ever held in Robertson County, Tennessee. People attended from miles away, and three preachers (two Methodist, and one Baptist) eulogized him. As the crowd of mourners began leaving the graveyard, the Bell Witch entity laughed and sang a song about a bottle of brandy. Her fervent singing didn't stop until the last mourner had left the graveyard. The entity's presence was almost non-existent after John Bell's demise, as though it had fulfilled its purpose.

[brideofdiscord-rewritten]

Bride of Discord Chapter 9: The Spark

Discord observed distantly at the Pegasus Fluttershy as she fed her animals. The view was only slightly warped in the strange glass, like it had cooled in the middle of the pour, with ripples and silly colors. He had distanced himself, as his presence disturbed the critters. Unsurprisingly.

Besides this, he He was fascinated by how well she was able to tame every creature, calming them down and nuzzling them. The fur that connected to her feathers housed small lizards and baby birds. Even the large bear posed no threat to her. She even allowed it to lick her. mane.

How did she do it? How could she be so kind that even the fiercest of creatures were enchanted by her? Ironically enough, that was exactly what he thought of her: enchanting. Magical. She treated him the way she did not because she was afraid of him, he knew that for sure.

He shook his head. His lips made flapping noises and his eyes rolled around like marbles. "What's happening to me?

His reflection responded, "You're turning into a sap, and all for that wimpy pegasus!"

"Hey!" Discord exclaimed, glaring at the mirror. "Don't talk about her that way!"

"See? You've even stooped so low as to defend her honor! You've fallen for your own act!" His reflection scratched at his horn and it fell off.

"I have not! I just…" he twiddled his fingers, "happen to find my fiancé…slightly attractive. What's wrong with that? S'what a husband's supposed to do!"

"What's wrong?! You've never found any pony attractive in your life! Even if you were to start, why would it be this pony? I mean look at her!"

Discord glanced back out the window. "Yeah, so?

"She's just so…flawless! There's not an ounce of discord in her! She's just so…so…"

The draconequus sighed dreamily. "Perfect."

The reflection's wings fell off.

"Exactly! She's too perfect! You have to change her! Turn her hair green or something!"

"whatEVER, she's not even perfect. She gets nervous very easy, she has eye bags, she curls her upper lip weird, shes so strange but she carries herself in such a way- I like some differences!"

"Ugh!" the reflection growled. "Listen to yourself! Where is your pride?!"

"Oh, shut up! I have a fiance because I'm so powerful!"

The reflection's beard fell off.

"she's the opposite of you!"

"that's the cool part- thats what makes it CHAOTIC!"

He waved his hand and draped a blanket over the mirror then turned his attention back to Fluttershy. He had to get closer, but he did not want to frighten her. So he perched on a tree branch just a few feet away, scaring a few birds in the process. His grin widened. She certainly was more interesting up close. But of course, to sit and watch felt eerie even to himself.

"Hold still, Angel Bunny," she said in her sweet voice as she fluffed the rabbit's tail. "There. All done." She lowered herself onto the plush grass. Zoysia, or Raleigh st. Augustine.

The rabbit leapt into her hooves and cuddled her. Discord's heart fluttered as he heard her giggle for the first time. That's so wacky! Ponies are satisfied so easily.

"Yes, I missed you too. I needed some lighthearted sass."

Angel then pulled away and yapped something that made Fluttershy frown.

"Oh, you see…I made a deal with him and…we're getting married."

As the other animals heard this, they made frantic noises. She tried to calm them down.

"Yes, yes, I know, he doesn't appear very friendly…"

Discord was starting to regret bringing those animals.

"But…he's not as bad as you think."

This made his eyes widen. The animals screamed in protest.

"No, really," Fluttershy assured them. "He hasn't really done anything to me yet…though I will admit, he still scares me a little…but he did bring you all here, and that makes me happy."

She then started singing to the birds, who sang in response. Discord closed his eyes as he listened to that sweet, melodic voice of hers. Never had he ever heard a sound so beautiful, so perfect, much like the pony it came from. He would have listened to it all day had the branch not given way beneath him. He let out a cry as he hit the ground, frightening the animals and causing them to scatter. Fluttershy shrieked and spun around. Her terror faded once she saw the draconequus' state.

"Goodness, are you hurt?" she asked, flying over to him.

He flinched as she lightly touched his paw.

"Oh, don't worry about me," he said, getting up. "I'm fine."

Fluttershy glanced up at the broken limb. "Were you spying on me?"

"No! Well, I was in the tree, but I wasn't watching you!" He grinned sheepishly. "You see…I didn't want to disturb you, and…sorry I scared your animals off."

She sighed. "Well, as long as you're here, care to help me feed the animals? There's so many of them you see and it's getting late…"

She pointed at the sky turning orange and pink from the sunset. The clouds looked like fish scales and shimmered their droplets of water like pearls. It had just rained and the rainbows shining off the clouds reminded them of the gems on the castle.

"Sure, I can take care of it!" he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Done! Now how about some dinner?"

Fluttershy's stomach growled at the mention of food. "Come to think of it, I haven't eaten much today… I nearly ate some of my bird's seeds earlier on accident."

With another snap of his fingers, a picnic blanket appeared beneath them, along with that came frozen daiquiris into two glasses. Discord offered her a glass. She spaced the small sips she took.

"no need, it's non alcoholic."

Still suspicious, she accepted the glass and took a sip. He had told the truth.

"So I take it you're enjoying the garden?" he inquired.

"Oh, yes," Fluttershy said with a smile. "Thank you again, but…" She looked up. "Some of the birds were flying, but something stopped them when they got too high."

"I didn't want them to leave you, that'd be rude!"

She stared at him with distressed eyes. "So the animals…are trapped here…like me?"

Seeing her smile disappear, Discord realized he had made a mistake and had to correct it. He gently lifted her chin.

"Cheer up, my dear. They're here with you. Isn't that all that matters?"

"I suppose," she replied, still not smiling.

He had to get that smile back, so he snapped his fingers and made a frosted carrot cake appear. Fluttershy's mouth dropped open.

"How did you…?"

"I told you," he stated simply. "I had nothing to do for three years but spy on you ponies. It was only natural that I find out a few things."

He summoned a cake cutter to cut her a slice of the cake and placed it on a smaller plate.

"What about dinner?" she asked.

"I'm sure we can break the rules a teensy bit," he smirked.

As she took the plate, a fork materialized in her hoof, Discord grinned as her smile returned. That is, until he realized she had no possible way of using it. She simply dipped her head and bit out of the slice.

"This is the best carrot cake I've ever tasted!" she declared.

"Only the best for my bride!" Discord said, taking a slice of cake himself.

Fluttershy blushed but then looked at him seriously. "Why were you spying on me, anyway? Just now, I mean."

"I wasn't spying, I was…observing. After all, you are a…interesting subject to watch."

She said nothing and stared down at her hooves, her face turning red.

"I wasn't lying, you know, when I said you were beautiful."

She looked away. "T-thank you, but…I'm not that... Comfortable with that."

"Oh, don't be so modest, my dear!" He tilted her head toward him. "You are a natural beauty, and that's saying a lot, coming from me. Usually when I see something so perfect I don't like it. But maybe it's because you're different."

Fluttershy moved from his claw and looked at the grass. "Not really. I mean…I was a model for a short while…"

His eyes widened. "Really? I mean, sure, you have the look, but…with that posture??"

She clutched her pearls in mock indignation.

"that's not at all why I quit! I couldn't handle all the attention and I had less time for my friends."

"Oh, I see…"

"See what?" She turned back to him to see a mischievous, disconcerting look on his face. "Discord, w-what are you…?"

She squealed as he attacked her with a hug. She kicked her legs frantically

"Discord, let me go!"

"What's the matter?" he taunted. "Can't handle all the attention I'm giving you?"

"N-no, I…" She trailed off as he ran his claw across her back. Then she started giggling. "T-that…he he…stop that…he he…tickles!"

This was his first time hearing her laugh, and it was captivating.

"Ha-ha! Please! I have to…ha-ha…finish my cake!"

"Oh, alright."

Discord sighed as he released her, only to have her tackle him over.

"Wait…what are you…? Ha-HA-HA-HA-HA!"

She was using her feathers to tickle him in return. However, she did not have the advantage of size. He snatched her up before she could get to the real torture.

"Nice try, you devious little thing!" he exclaimed. The rocking ceased and they pulled away from each other. "So in conclusion, I don't play."

Fluttershy giggled. "Understand."

He gently set her down. "You know? You should laugh more often. Laughter becomes you well."

She blushed and then realized that was the first time she had belly laughed with someone is weeks. heck, maybe even a month.

"Thanks for walkin' me home, Spike." Applejack said when they reached the edge of the farm. "And thanks again for helpin' me with the critters. Even though it didn't turn out so well, it was still mighty big of ya."

After they had finished eating, Fluttershy was getting tired. She had been unable to sleep with everything going on, so she decided to retire early. When she entered her room, she looked in the mirror on the vanity, examining her face and hair. No matter how many ponies called her beautiful she felt like an outsider looking in at a conversation. They weren't complimenting her, they liked her face.

"Anything for you, AJ," the dragon said with a smile.

She lowered her head and tucked her face back behind her hat. He skipped and flounced so lovingly. She wondered how betrayed he'd feel when he realized that two of his first best friends stole away his first love. Not that he could've had a chance to date her, but what an unfortunate way to realize your situation.

The last pony she wanted to see zoomed past her, unwaveringly hovering over her like a wraith in the night. Then, her features peeked through the black lace sheet of night.

Applejack was about to say something when Rainbow Dash smiled and her words caught in her throat.

"I was lookin' for you! Rarity asked me to come over, and I want you to come with!"

"Aw shucks, talk about'a wingpony!"

"You know I gotchu! Besides, you just make sleepovers more... Uhh.."

She noticed the farm mare's tentative gaze. She actually listened to her, and considered it. It didn't help Rainbow's flow of thought that the ponys eyes seemed to glow when she blushes. Illuminating her smile were street lights, showcasing her bonny beautiful smile lines. Her teeth were slightly crooked, but rainbow had hyperdontia anyways-

"Dash? Shug? The sleepovers?"

"right! You make em' more fun! All of us are different and we mesh WAY too well. Anyways, I gotta hot date, and she's YOUR marefriend!"

Rainbow was chased playfully by the draft pony, after all her head cleared when she flew.

Fluttershy woke up with a scream. Discord flew through her thick doors in the moments following.

"What is it?! What's wrong?!"

She sighed in relief. "Nothing. It was a bad dream."

"Oh." Discord blushed in embarrassment. "My bad, I just thought…

"That I was in danger?" she finished.

She had to admit that was awfully sweet of him.

"Yes, but you're not, I see. So I'll just be going…"

"Wait! Could you, um…stay for a little bit?"

He stared at her, and then clapped his hands, turning the lights on. He sat on the edge of the bed.

"So this nightmare," he said, "what was it about?"

Fluttershy was about to tell him, but then remembered who she was talking to and hid her face under the covers. Discord was confused by this reaction. Then he recalled something and frowned.

"Was it about…me?"

She peered out at him. "How did you…?"

"You mentioned it to your friends."

She hid her face again in shame. "I'm really sorry, I…

"Tell me."

"What? Why?"

She was hesitant at first, but the beans had been spilt. She told him how it was the same every night: he would hold her, chuckle darkly, whisper horrible things in her ear, and sometimes turn her into her discordant self again. It stung him.

"Is that how you see me?" he asked, with hurt behind the mask of his bright eyes.

"I…I…"

"Please, I…I don't know why I keep dreaming it. I'm not scared of... You, in front of me."

When he gazed into those pleading eyes, his coldness dissolved. He could not leave her in this state.

"Alright," he said with a sigh. "I'll stay with you until you fall asleep.

She smiled in thanks. "I'm not really sure if I can go to sleep now."

"How about I help you?"

"Sure, but what…?"

With a snap of his fingers, they found themselves sitting on top of a cloud high above the castle.

"Whyd you do that?" Fluttershy asked.

"It's a clear night," Discord said, lounging onto his back. "I thought we could have a look at the stars."

"no- well not no, but why did you teleport us? We can both fly."

"works up a sweat!" Suddenly as she looked at him he wore an outfit similar to the actress and activist, Mane Fonda. only, in the 80's.

"They're beautiful," she marveled.

"Yeah." Discord muttered. She raised an eyebrow at him. "I can admire pretty lights!" He continued to look at the ones reflecting in the pools of her eyes rather than the ones in space.

"You know Twilight could name all the stars and planets and constellations?" she said. "Every single one of them!"

Her smile wavered at the thought of her friend. Discord saw this and knew he had to distract her.

"The stars are rather boring when they're stuck on the sky like that, aren't they?"

He waved his paw and Fluttershy gasped as the stars moved into the shape of a butterfly.

"Does that count as your confines?"

"if it isn't, I got lots of paperwork to do."

Fluttershy watched as the astral butterfly flapped its wings against the night sky and floated in circles. "Well…it is kind of…neat…"

Discord laughed triumphantly as the smile returned to her face. "See? My chaos can be useful."

"you've done more useful stuff than that. Just, for your reasons."

He grinned and made writing motions with his claw, using the stars to spell out a message. Fluttershy's eyes grew to the size of frying pans as she read it: Do you love me? Check Yes or No. Underneath, he drew two boxes marked 'Yes' and 'No.'

When she turned to him, he had that excited look on his face. He handed her his glowing claw, still pointing towards the sky. She glanced between him and the message, and then finally took the claw and drew a check in the second box.

Discord shrugged, still half smiling. "Creative, eh? I'm getting good at this."

...

"I-I'm really sorry, but…I just don't…feel that way about you yet…"

"No, it's okay!" he said quickly.

But it was not okay. She had rejected him before, but for some reason, it hurt this time.

He stiffened as he felt something nuzzle against him. He glanced down to see the pegasus curling up to him.

"But I'm willing to accept you as a friend," she said softly.

It was as if a string were pulled inside his chest. "Friend?"

"Why, of course. I think it's only fair."

He did not know what to say. "Oh…well, I've…never really had a friend before. i should rework the sign."

The stars now read: Do you wanna be my friend And if you do, Well then don't be afraid to take me by the hand If you want to. I think this is how love goes. Check yes or no.

"Huhuhuh, I stole that."

"Never?"

"What do you think?"

She nuzzled closer to him. "Well, now you do. And I'm sorry."

He blinked. "For what?"

"I was wrong about you. You're not a monster."

She closed her eyes and snuggled into his fur. Discord stared at her in awe, not believing that such a pony could exist. Not only was she beautiful beyond belief, but she was kind enough to even care for him. Even if she had not given him what he had expected, the idea of having a friend made his heart explode. Who knew I even had a heart?

She mumbled. "Well, you might be. But I like monsters then."

He stuck out his claw unsurely and began to stroke her mane. Fluttershy opened her eyes and looked up at him. He retracted his claw, not sure why he was suddenly so hesitant.

"Sorry, I…do you mind?"

She stared at him for a moment and then smiled. "No, it's okay." She flipped onto her belly and closed her eyes. "Go ahead, so long as you don't tickle me again."

He chuckled as he sat up, leaning on his arm. "Don't worry, my dear. I'll be gentle."

Not wasting a second of this opportunity, he placed his paw on the top of her head and slowly ran his fingers through her mane. He sighed internally at the softness of her hair and Fluttershy was once again surprised at his tender touch. His raptor talons now used to graze her scalp ever so gently, like a large bumblebee on a small flower.

The sleep she was lulled in was one discord was hesitant to cut short. So of course he didn't. He lie close to her, feeling her heart beating, and wondered if it was him she dreamed of. Thank Celestia they were together, he just wanted to stay in this moment forever.

So he curled his body around her, like a dragon guarding its treasure. He continued to stare at her face, so it would be the last thing he would see before drifting off to sleep himself. He didn't want to sleep though, he could've spent the whole night just hearing her breathing. Watching her smile while she slept. Despite his droopy lids, he didn't wanna miss a thing.

[callsign-bunnie]

Hi! I know that you're taking a bit of a break from requests, but I wanted to submit this just in case I forget!

What about a Hades and Persephone au with Rudy and Ghost?

I LOVE how you write the two of them, and I think it's fitting. I see Ghost as Hades because, well, he's GHOST, and I wanted to relay the idea!

Good wishes to you on your break!

I've actually been thinking of a gods and monsters au that would likely be request only as well... Damn, I guess I need to make a request blurb for these aus

--

He trailed after the beautiful glowing thing as it wandered through his wood. Ghost’s wood. Rodolfo shouldn’t be here, he should be back with his best friend, but… The God of Wrath had better things to do. 

Wrath and war…

Rodolfo didn’t. His only job was to look pretty. Well, they could imagine it while he wandered off.

The glow bobbed a little and then it disappeared, right as Rodolfo reached the middle of a clearing. The woods were dark, almost gray… Rodolfo and the now disappeared glowing light had been the only color. 

Rodolfo, himself, didn’t even give off much color, his soft blue glow somehow dimming to look like a cool gray in the woods. He had heard that Ghost had that effect on everyone… Everything…

He’ll dim you to nothingness, until you’re a shell of yourself.

Rodolfo didn’t want to be a shell… But he was curious. At many of the committees, he’d seen his dark gray irises follow him as he moved. His eyes the only thing visible behind the shadows he cloaked himself in.

The god of death… Only became so because of the crimes he committed as a mortal… Cursed…

“Little bunny rabbit wanders through my wood…” 

A shiver rolled down Rodolfo’s spine and he wrapped his arms around himself, realizing how cold the air around him was… A presence surrounded him and then it was manifesting in front of him, only for a moment, before it was gone, again. 

Rodolfo backed up, turning to go in the direction he’d came from, but being greeted only with more woods. Finally, he allowed himself to feel frightened, looking around for somewhere to go.

“They told you not to come here… Didn’t they?”

“I’m sorry…” Rodolfo’s voice came out soft, weak… He didn’t like that it did but he couldn’t help it. “I saw something come down the trail, I was curious…”

The presence again manifested in front of him and then Rodolfo frowned as he saw a glowing thing peeking out from behind the presence. He’d been lured…

“No. It’s a mischievous little sprite, it wants to get me in trouble.” 

Rodolfo realized that he still had been lured, but not by Ghost. “It wanted you to hurt me…”

“Exactly.” The glowing thing was grabbed and then a soft ringing sound, like bells, could be heard as the glow trembled and thrashed. 

Terror filled Rodolfo’s heart and he shook his head. “No, no, please do not hurt it…” He rushed forward and the glowing thing was dropped into his hands, where he gently cradled it. 

“It wanted me to hurt you, yet you take empathy on it?” Ghost’s form became more… human, starting to walk around Rodolfo, though it was still cloaked in shadow. “What a sweet little bunny rabbit you are…”

“I don’t think it deserves to die…” Rodolfo defended, cradling it close to his chest.

The glow trembled and then it was staring at Rodolfo, looking almost angry. Before Rodolfo could react, it was up and then it slammed into his chest, knocking him over.

Rodolfo gasped as it sank deep into his chest and then… he couldn’t breathe. His lungs burned, like fire sap had been poured down his throat and he cried, clawing at his chest.

Ghost immediately was to him and then he was crouching down, shaking his head. “No, no, little bastard…” He snarled before he was lifting Rodolfo into his arms, holding him close.

A tree grew from the ground, golden and bright, and then Ghost was reaching into it, pulling a fruit from it. Easily, he ripped the fruit apart before Rodolfo’s lips were pulled apart and it was pressed into his mouth.

He swallowed without resistance and cold flooded his body, filling his veins with the sensation. It chased away the burn in his lungs and sweet, blissful air was allowed to pass through them, again.

The glow in his chest slowly died until he was left with his own pale blue, again. 

A hand reached up and pet over his hair and he curled up to Ghost, grasping him. “It cursed you…” Ghost’s tone sounded angry. “Now you can never leave.”

Then Ghost was gone.

--

If I were to like... pick ships for this au, I think I would say Soaproach, Alerudy, Ghostrudy, Gazalex, Farahmalika, and maybe some others

If this gets enough attention and people want more, I'll do a taglist

Ship: @thegodofsleep @lieutenant-storm @roachboy @del79jji @stardust-medic99

[khaotunq]

mentally, i'm fighting to the death over @chinzhilla at any given point. bon tagged me!

Spell your url with song titles and then tag as many people as there are letters

K - Kiss Me - Dermot Kennedy (YT / Sp) - wouldn't be me if DK wasn't here so why not start with him.

H - Head Rolls Off - Frightened Rabbit (YT / Sp) - fond memories of this band and discovering there's actual talent local to me, I still think of Scott regularly.

A - Affirmation - Savage Garden (YT / Sp) - soundtrack of my entire life

O - Odds Are - Barenaked Ladies (YT / Sp) - back when Ed wasn't whinging about cancel culture. The good old days <3

T - Talkin' Bout a Revolution - Tracy Chapman (YT / Sp) - my fav of her songs

U - it turns out I have no songs starting with U in my 'monster' playlist, but Underneath Your Clothes - Shakira is the first one that came to mind. So, that. Lmao. (YT / Sp)

N - Not Strong Enough - boygenius (YT / Sp) - this isn't on my playlist but it came up on a random playlist i clicked on and it was pretty

Q - Quizas - Enrique Iglesias (YT / Sp) ok I had to hunt for this one but my entire personality was this dude for several years and I knew it existed, so it counts. Spanish Enrique was the best Enrique.

i'm gonna tag @mushiemadarame and @brightrapheephong because you two have the longest urls i can think of and i'm an arse <3 but no pressuuuree~~~

[angelofviscera]

ANNE hi hello lovely you should give me some frightened rabbit recs <3 i've been meaning to get into them for a while but i don't know where to start

MURPH MY LOVE!!! IT WOULD BE MY HONOUR<3 be prepared for an. absurd amount of songs. i'd say start off with the modern leper, it's the first song a lot of ppl hear from 'em and for a good reason!! then head rolls off, one of their many songs about morbidity and death and also one of their most hopeful, alongside the oil slick. both I wish I was sober and nitrous gas have that "julien-baker-esque" self loathing. the kind where the song acts as an apology for their self destructive habits that have directly hurt others by dragging them down with them, trying to convince you that they're the villain, so to speak. an otherwise disappointing life and the woodpile are deeply unromantic love songs, beautiful yet obsessive. swim until you can't see land is self depreciating and really showcases scott's wit. MY LAST REC!!! is how it gets in, it features julien baker and she's just the perfect addition, ever time she sings frightened rabbit you can feel how meaningful their work and scott's writing is to her. LISTEN TO ALL OF THEM OR PICK AND CHOOSE!! hope this helped <33

[apsychicandapoet]

Boos & Brews Night (Wildlife Safari)

Saturday night Terry and I ventured to the annual Boos and Brews night at Wildlife Safari in Winston, Oregon. It turned out to be a pricey evening, but we did have fun as we always do when together. The Wildlife Safari staff typically decorate with lights around the village, and put up the appropriate decorations around the viewing pens of those animals inside the village and not on the drive thru. They had created a nice ambiance for the Halloween holiday arriving soon. 

As you walk in, there are smaller creatures in a pen set off in the back portion of the village. The animals in this area are especially for children to see, pet, and enjoy. The enclosure next to the petting zoo houses owls, snakes, tamarins, and different species of birds. Tonight everything along the path was lit in an array of rainbow colors, each covering the trunk of a tree or framing a skeleton in a tree or sitting on a bench. 

I petted a small donkey, a miniature horse and a goat or two, then we moved on toward the middle section to capture pictures of Halloween decor. Cobwebs, witches hats, candles, and black cats were hung from trees and pressed into the dark recesses of a tree trunk. The lights added an ambiance of the upcoming holiday. 

The dance floor under the dome on the opposite of the village was filled with lights, loud music, and people who appear to be having the most fun. As we walked closer, I could tell why they looked happier. There were four tables with different types of beer and wine for sale. A large dance floor was at the ready. Terry and I perused the beer tables. He chose his favorite and asked for one. 

We headed out in search of other events happening around the park. Turning on my flashlight app on my phone was a must! The path was dark which added to the eerie feeling. Off in the distance, you could hear the roars and growls of the lions in their fenced area. The sound of the snarling and roaring of the amazingly large kitties made your skin crawl. It was quite frightening to hear them so close, yet you knew they were behind fences. Or at least you hoped. 

Terry and I ventured off to the cougar enclosure, where we saw a group of folks watching something inside the pen. One of the employees had a large flashlight and was shining it into the setting. The beautiful cat came into view. It was tough snapping the right shot of the cougar, since it was so dark in this corner of the park, even with the light provided by the staff. Terry and I were making attempts at getting a good shot, but to no avail. Finally Terry yelled, "Walk toward the light," which threw me into a fit of laughter. 

Now kitties do what they want to do. This pertains to the larger cat family as well. Staff members said the cougar's name was Rogue. He got the name because of the area in which he was found. Roaming around the Rogue River area, he was brought to the safari to be cared for and protected. Rogue was throwing something up in the air, tossing it, turning it over and over in the grass, then placing it in his paws, rolling on his back and kicking it as he brought his hind feet up to meet his front paws. The staff member moved the flashlight over a bit and it dawned on me the "thing" he was throwing around was a rabbit.

We watched the cat play around with his rabbit for a while, making feeble attempts to snag that one picture or video that would allow us to place it on the blog. Terry finally achieved as good of a video as we could get, using what little light was available and his Samsung Galaxy 22 camera.  

All in all, I would say the trip to the Wildlife Safari Boos and Brews went pretty well. The music was great. The DJ was playing popular sounds such as, "Hit Me With Your Best Shot," and "Uptown Funk," and we can't forget the classic, "Thriller". The group of folks there at the time were smaller in number to keep it simple, fun, and less crowded. All in all, visitors were being quite friendly and pleasant to each other. Another good adventure, great memory, and my favorite way to spend time, another great time was had with Terry as company. 

[fissions-chips]

cat and mouse

(tiny jon AU- tw for violence and injury)

   “Oh?~”

   Jon paled as the shadow fell over him, stumbling back against the desk as a sinister grin and pink-tinted glass suddenly filled his vision- mismatched eyes widened as the figure leaned down to his level, Valentine’s head tilting in lupine fashion as he whispered. 

   “Oh… oh my god. Look at you.”

   His voice, even hushed, echoed in Jon’s ears, and the little man staggered back, heart pounding in his chest. Suddenly, something pressed to his back, and he found his retreat blocked by one huge hand, thumb and forefinger seizing him by the middle and lifting him into the air. 

   “What a predicament you’ve found yourself in, Jon-“ Valentine purred, voice tinged with baffled amusement, watching as Jon flailed about between his fingers- idly, he curled the rest around the tiny man, Jon letting out a frightened sound that reminded him of the squeak of a mouse. “You’re so cute.”

   Almost absentmindedly, he pressed the nail of his thumb against Jon’s neck, a frantic, rabbit-fast pulse hammering beneath it. Jon yelped, the other man’s grip suddenly shifting around him, tightening. A low chuckle filled the air as Valentine lifted Jon closer to his face, eyes glittering with something sinister as he watched the other begin to struggle. 

   “So… delicate. I could just-“ 

   Jon gasped, the air suddenly squeezed from his lungs by ring-clad fingers- sharp, splintering pain raced down his body, his ribs crumpling in his chest and his limbs threatening to snap like matchsticks. “Val-“ he tried to choke out, the sound trickling off into a strangled whine as the nail’s edge pressed to his throat broke skin. “S… Stop-“ 

   Another hand joined the first, circling Jon’s shoulders and skull and squeezing- the little man’s voice, pitifully small, broke off into a tiny, choked gasp. Valentine’s odd eyes were wide and unblinking, staring down at his hands and the figure trapped between them. Break him, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. Break every bone in his stupid little body and feel him die.

   He could feel the crush of ribs and he could feel the bruising of flesh and he could feel the way Jon’s struggles started to fade, thin chest heaving a little less each time beneath his fingers. In his mind, he could picture Jon’s eyes rolling back beneath their lids and his head falling to the side- he had dreamed of it countless times, he had seen it happen before. Bright teeth gold and gleaming as the other gasped for air, dark blue irises breaking up like water poured into paint. 

   I’m going to kill him.

   Overwhelmed by the violent impulse coursing through him, Valentine only watched as his hands shook with effort. Jon’s body twitched between them, falling limp- his heart still hammered, but it was faint, and reality suddenly came crashing back to him. 

   “I’m… getting ahead of myself.” He muttered, something a little like hysteria in his voice- and then, he let go.

   Jon dropped like a stone, hitting the desk with a quiet thud. For several moments, he didn’t move- crouching down once more, Valentine’s brow lifted, and he reached out a hand to seize the tiny figure once more. 

   “You’d better not be dead-“ he called out. “Because if you are… I’m about to make sure of it.” 

   Just as his fingers brushed Jon’s shoulder, there was a thin, strangled sound. The little man shifted, and began to cough, his whole body shaking with the force of it. Weakly, he tried to rise up onto his arms, limbs trembling, and sank back onto his stomach. It took him several tries. When he finally made it to his feet, he staggered back, still half-stunned from the drop. 

   “Careful.” 

   Valentine’s hand blocked him from the edge once more, and Jon flinched as he brushed the other man’s fingers, falling down against the desk with a yelp. As soon as his back met the wood, Jon shrieked, pain spiraling down his body like an electric current. “G-get away from me!” He hissed, eyes wide with terror. “Don’t touch me!” 

   His whole body was shaking. Valentine leaned closer, eyes glittering with cruel amusement as Jon scrambled to get further from him. A dark, ugly bruise was beginning to form beneath where his thumb had pressed to Jon’s throat- Valentine could imagine that the rest of his body would look similar before too long. “Don’t be silly,” he muttered, plucking Jon up once more by his middle. The little man shrieked, but all it took was a slight bit of pressure and Jon fell still, trembling. “You don’t want me to do that again, do you?”

   Jon didn’t look at him- instead, he stared straight ahead, shivering. After a moment, he shook his head slightly, and Valentine grinned. 

   “Good.”

   Scooping Jon up into his hand, Valentine began looking around the room, eyes narrowed. Where to put you… He could hardly leave Jon out-and-about while he was at work, and as tempting as the idea was to carry him in his pocket, he didn’t want him to somehow get loose in the commotion. Not when he still had so many wicked little torments to inflict upon his pocket-sized enemy. 

   This is going to be so much fun.

   — — — — —

   “Well, it could be worse.” 

   Jon bristled, but didn’t answer- instead, he drew his knees up to his chest, glaring at the other man through the glass of the jewelry box. 

   “It was a gift, I think?” Valentine had explained, reaching up to pluck it down from his closet shelf with one hand, Jon grasped firmly in the other. “I can’t really recall who I got it from- that happens a lot, I’ll admit.” 

   Jon knew who had given it to him. He knew. And yet, he said nothing- angering the other man would only end with his death, and he was too tired to speak.

   With that, Jon had been unceremoniously dumped inside, the latch clicked shut behind him. It was an old-fashioned thing, all brass hinges and edges, but the glass that made up its panels was crystal clear- despite being trapped, Jon found that he felt horribly exposed. Pressing further back into the corner, he tried his best to ignore the way Valentine was peering into the box to watch him, like some curious animal, and kept his head down. 

   His whole body ached with the memory of the massive hand that had curled around him, nearly snapping him in two. Jon wouldn’t have been surprised if something, his ribs or his shoulder or his hip, had cracked under the pressure- he didn’t want to move enough to find out. 

   What little even footing had existed between him and Valentine was now stripped away entirely. Before, he could fight back, sneer or snap or chase the other away with threats of vengeance. He had given as good as he got- or at least he had liked to think so. Now, he knew that if he tried to speak, the other man would only laugh at how small his voice sounded, and he didn’t want to tempt him into snatching him up again. The glimpse Jon had gotten of Valentine’s face, before the other man had decided to try to crack his skull open, had been… horrifying, on a scale Jon didn’t know how to describe. There wasn’t a word he could come up with for the kind of violence he had seen behind the other man’s eyes. 

   He knew that violence was going to kill him. He just didn’t know when. In his current state, however, Jon knew it was going to hurt.

   “Tomorrow, I’m taking you to research and development,” Valentine hummed, dropping the box none-too-gently onto his bedside table. Jon was sent tumbling across the glass, slamming into the bottom with a hiss- slowly, he picked himself upright, relieved that now, at least, there was the appearance of a solid surface beneath him. “That’s where this happened, right? I’ve got to figure out more about that Koboi crap I picked up, it’s… bizarre. Sci-fi bullshit. You’re lucky you didn’t find the fucking lasers.”

   At least the other didn’t acknowledge his attempted theft- it would have been nothing but a point of hypocrisy. Jon knew ‘Koboi’ wasn’t a name that fit under Phonetix’s umbrella, though he himself couldn’t place it either, try as he might. Taking note of Jon’s suspicious glare, Valentine laughed, pulling a cigarette from his case and lighting it. 

   “Oh, not to fix you- not for all the money in the world, my friend. You’re going to play ‘lab rat’ for the day with one of my scientists- the one who handles less-than-legal developments.” 

   Jon paled. 

   “I hope,” Valentine continued, “That you’re the kind of rat they stick needles in all day.” Taking a drag, he said nothing for a moment.

Jon sank back against the far wall of the box, shivering, staring down at his own shaking hands. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

   Valentine watched from the corner of his eye. After a few moments more, he stretched, before bending down to check that the latch on the box was secure. “Anyways…” He drawled, before tapping on the glass sharply- Jon startled as the sound echoed around him, his ears ringing. 

   “I’m going to work now. I don’t think I need to make any sort of threat- your current position gets the point across, right?” 

   Blinking back at him, Jon sat bewildered as he waited for the echoing to fade- then, sudden anger flooded him. Anger at the other man, anger at his predicament, and anger at the stupid box he was trapped in. Curling his lip in a sneer, Jon flipped the other man off, unsurprised when Valentine only snickered. 

   “There it is- precious spite. The only thing you have left, at the moment.” Standing, Valentine dusted himself off, snuffing out his cigarette on a nearby ashtray. “Try not to let it lead you to do something stupid, okay?”

   Turning, he moved to exit the room, shutting the light off behind him- as his fingers brushed the doorframe, however, he paused, tilting his head behind him to give Jon a warning look. 

   “Or next time, I’m going to break something- permanently. See you tonight, Jon.” 

   With that, he closed the door behind him, and Jon was left alone.

[gutsofgold]

A little drabble with Chief, Lesser, and Cheryl on Halloween?

THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON ILY!!!!

It was that time again. When pumpkins are carved and lit up. When kits gather around the bonfire to try and frighten each other. When the swallows felt like a distant memory. It was the heart of autumn.

One such indication of the season was screaming, coming from the Wild Wood. The young of the Riverbankers would dare each other to get close to the edge of the place, before scrambling away in terror, and telling their friends in disbelief.

Unbeknownst to the Riverbankers, nobody was being killed and eaten by foxes. Actually, quite the contrary. The screaming came from a Weasel. A Weasel who had just been frightened by a Stoat.

Cheryl cackled, pulling the picnic blanket off of her head. Lesser huffed, and crossed his arms. He hated when everyone started to decorate for Halloween. Especially in the Wild Woods, when in the late afternoon, it got dark early, and the little light that reached them disappeared. It made everything look so much more frightening.

The Stoat scratched another tally onto the column labeled ‘CS’, that she had ‘graciously’ marked into a tree, as a way of keeping score on their ‘competition’. Really, it was just a way to boast the amount of times she had frightened Lesser, as his side had no marks.

“Just you wait..” He murmured, glaring at Cheryl. The Stoat scoffed in response. “Wait for what? You to wet ya’self? You jumpin’ into Chief's arms?”

Cheryl’s brows furrowed. Lesser shrugged.

Cheryl sprawled out over a rock, and dramatically threw her arms in the air. “Oh, hold me! The big scary Fieldmouse is going to eat me!” She cried, with a wicked grin.

“I’ll—”

Lesser was interrupted by a strange sound. Their heads turned in unison, towards the Weasel, who was clambering out of a den. Chief joined the pair, holding an excessive amount of toilet paper rolls, which he began to unload onto Cheryl, who began to unload onto Lesser.

“We’re headin’ to Toad Hall!” He declared. Lesser furrowed his brows.

“It’s not nighttime?”

Chief shot him a look. Lesser was now holding all of the rolls, and began to unload them back onto Cheryl.

“We’re helping them decorate, then.”

Eventually, they hopped over the fences, and crossed the extravagance of grounds surrounding the manor, getting close enough to throw the bum fodder.

Chief fired the first shot with glee, followed closely behind by the other two. Lesser was in the middle of throwing a roll, when he tripped over a pile of them. It went in the opposite direction he was aiming for, and got itself wrapped around Chief.

The latter chased the weasel, accompanied by the hysterical laughing of Cheryl. It must have caused quite the commotion, because a window opened, and the figure of a rabbit yelled out.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?” He shrieked out at them.

Apparently the three had stationed themselves close enough to decorate the hall, but not far enough to not be spotted by staff.

Chief yelled the word they all thought.

“SCRAM!”

//////

Im sorry its short AND late AND shitty but I struggled writing Halloween in April 😞