#i gotta make a tag for all the monster stuff i write

[sailing-through-hawkins]

tagged by the bestie @a-little-unsteddie ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ who was gracious enough to listen to me ramble about this

rules: ✧ generate 5 random words using this generator and then write something using those words! ✧ tag 5 (or however many you want) mutuals to challenge! ✧ if you don’t like the five words you got, reroll them. this is meant to be a fun little challenge, not something to stress over. have fun!

✧ my words: stoichiometry, glenoid, secretion, encounter, fleam ✧ warning: this is some spooky stuff, lots of water imagery, stay safe ✧

If there's one thing Eddie hates more than sitting through another lecture from another townie about the dangers of the lake, it's being forced to listen to their made-up bullshit about what's out there.

They don't know a single thing about what lurks under the surface of the water.

They talk about the smell of blood, the sound of howling, the quick flash of fangs in the moonlight, all the typical bullshit they make up to scare kids away from the lake. They don't even put any effort, any imagination into the stories, being as vague as they can because god forbid the people of Hawkins add a little pizazz to their warnings.

And that's the real kicker really, that the scariest things they can come up with are so vague, so general it could be about any store-brand monster out there. The reality of the lake is unfathomable to them. It was unfathomable to Eddie too, once.

But he's had encounters. Real ones.

And now he knows.

The townsfolk would never talk about the goosebumps that prickle your skin when you're near the lake. The sense of awe and dread that soaks into your bones when you look at it, as though just the sight is enough to engulf you in the water. The way your limbs will lock for a moment, just a moment, when you step into old, wet footprints, the ones that leave the lakeside muddy, that make you think, wait a second, because those footprints don't go into the water.

They walk out of it.

And now Eddie is walking towards it, leaving his van and any chance of escape far behind him.

What a life.

With a grumble, Eddie stomps towards the cabin, rickety stairs creaking, and he pushes the door open.

"It's simple stoichiometry, my dear -"

"Hello friends and foes alike!" Eddie greets as he steps through the door. Or at least, he would have said that had he not been accosted against the wall with a firm arm crushing his throat to it.

He scrambles, staring into the black void eyes that glare at him. The snarl from something you can't really call a man, but there is no other word for the sight of him, echoing through his bones.

The arm against his throat pushes harder for a moment and he thinks, slightly hysterically, well, tit for tat, I guess. Not the usual tit I'd go for but beggars can't be choosers.

"Steve! Steve, it's okay, it's just Eddie!"

"Hey man," Eddie wheezes, grasping at Steve's forearm. "Been eating your greens, I gather?"

With a snort, Steve lets him go and steps away. Eddie takes a minute to gasp air back into his lungs, coughing out the instinctual fear that claws through his blood every time he sees - well.

"So," Eddie croaks out, rubbing at the skin of his neck, wiping away the cool water and the goosebumps that always take a while to fade away. "Why'd you call me here again, Henderson?"

Dustin gawks at him as Steve shuffles his way back to his stool. "I didn't call you!"

Eddie narrows his eyes and shoves his medallion, the one Will carved out for each of them, right in front of Dustin's face, making the kid go cross-eyed. "Oh yeah? So this signal wasn't from you, huh?"

"Wha - but - I didn't -" sputters Dustin, who then goes silent and turns around to Steve with his hands on his hips. "Steve."

What a sight he is to behold.

Leaning back on his stool, one arm supporting his weight from behind, Steve inspects the darkened nails of his other hand, not even gracing Dustin with a glance. It'd be the perfect rendition of the Kegstand King if it weren't for his sickly skin, always so cold and just on the wrong side of damp, and the way his face is perfectly still, no twitching, no blinking, no movement from any inch of him other than the droplets of water that drip from his hair.

Eddie always forgets that he doesn't breathe anymore.

"Steve," Dustin stresses again. "Did you call for Eddie on our emergency-only channel, the same one that has a limited amount of calls because of, oh y'know, Will's magic?!"

There's silence. Then Steve shrugs and Eddie laughs out loud.

"Steve!"

"Chill out, man," Eddie pats Dustin's shoulder. "We can always recharge the calls once your superhero girl comes back from the edge out there. She'll be back in what, two days?"

That doesn't seem to be enough to deter Dustin from glaring at Steve, who lazily looks back. An acidic taste rises at the back of Eddie's throat at how those voids stare, empty of intention, empty of the exasperated affection that he was so used to seeing.

Eddie clears his throat. "Did I hear something about science on my way in?"

And with that, the kid's face brightens up like the sun and he launches into his investigation into the "secretion from the roots closest to the lake, the colour is way off, way too green to be tree resin, and we couldn't cut through it, not even with Mrs. Byers' fleam so we figured -"

Throughout the rant, Eddie's eyes flicker between Dustin and Steve, his body freezing in place when the latter's gaze locks onto his own.

It's so bizarre to look at him. To look and see the Steve that protected the kids, the Steve that would gripe and groan, the Steve that would laugh goofily. But that Steve is a ghost, a memory laid over his body like those photographs Will brings to their sessions, proud and adamant about his brother's talent in - what did he call it? Double exposure.

This Steve doesn't laugh like that. He doesn't make much sound at all, beyond huffs and hums. This Steve doesn't look at Dustin with brotherly annoyance, or Lucas with cheerful pride, or Max with loving snark. This Steve looks at all of them with the same eyes, black and eternal, the same smile, hollow like a one-way mirror, the same tilt of his head, as if still contemplating who among them are prey.

This Steve doesn't take his eyes off of Eddie. And then he tilts his head.

"Okay, buddy," Eddie smacks a hand onto Dustin's shoulder, cutting him off. He glances back at Steve and sucks in a breath as he starts to lean forward. "Think it's time I get you home."

"What?" Dustin scrunches his nose. "It's not even sundown yet! And I still have to look at Steve's right glenoid, Robin said there might be some -"

"Kid." Eddie tightens his grip on Dustin's shoulder. Steve watches them. "Go sit in the van."

"Eddie -"

"Now."

With a grumble, Dustin gathers his books and equipment, hauling it all into his backpack. Steve doesn't look away from them. Eddie doesn't look away from Steve. Finally, the kid manages to get everything in and ready to go before he fucks it all up and sticks a hesitant hand out to Steve. "See you tomorrow?"

And then, then something incredible happens.

Steve blinks. He breaks his gaze away from Eddie, looking over to Dustin and his outstretched hand, and then he gives his own hand in return, bumping the two fists.

Dustin glows so brightly Eddie almost wants to grab the old pair of sunglasses he keeps inside his jacket pocket, the ones Robin told him to keep safe. The ones Steve used to wear.

"Bye Steve!" Dustin calls out as he leaves the cabin, snapping Eddie's gaze back to Steve.

Steve, who is smiling.

It sends shocks up Eddie's spine because that's Steve's smile, the sweet one, the warm one, the one so full of fondness it might as well have been carved into every crevice of his lips.

"Steve?" Eddie says quietly.

And just like that, those eyes snap back onto Eddie and in one smooth motion, Steve stands and stalks towards him, smile gone, warmth gone.

"Woah, woah," Eddie swears as Steve crawls into his space, the smell of wet grass invading his lungs. Steve has him against the wall again, arms caging him in, and face leaned in close. Eddie squeaks out, "That eager, huh?"

Steve tilts his head again before his mouth stretches out and up, a terrifying reflection of Eddie's nervous grin that makes sweat crawl down the skin of his back.

"Yeah, yeah." Eddie breathes out as Steve drags his nose down Eddie's neck, shivering at the ice-cold touch. "I'll be back tonight, just let me get Dustin home first."

The humming is the worst part. There's an odd melody to it, rising and lowering in pitch, as though he's using words. But he's not. He's just humming.

"Steve," Eddie whispers as the creature before him noses at his collarbone. "Just let me get Dustin home first. Please."

At the sound of Dustin's name, Steve sinks away. He stares up at Eddie, giving one, solitary nod towards the open door.

With frenzied nerves, Eddie makes his way over to the door and is just about to step outside when he hears a hum behind him. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Eddie glances back.

Steve is staring at him. None of the sunlight touches him, shadows creeping along the ground where he stands.

And then a hoarse, haunting sounds echoes through the cabin.

"Don't be late."

Eddie doesn't remember rushing into the van or the ride back to the Hendersons' place. By the time he settles back into his body, he's already standing in front of the cabin again, the sun sinking below the horizon, red skies bleeding into black trees.

Hawkins will always lament the terrors of the lake, Eddie thinks as the door creaks open for him. But they'll never know a single thing about what really lies down in it.

They'll never know who waits down there, with black eyes and hollow smiles.

They'll never know what he'd do to keep his family safe.

Who he would become.

"Welcome back," says a hoarse, lilting voice and Eddie hopes the people of Hawkins will never have to know.

and some no pressure tags:

@xenon-demon @unamusing-s @wynnyfryd @onirislanding @heartscoops

[raiiny-bay]

my favorite edits - 2023 edition 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9

[lincolndjarin]

Oh Honey. ✩ Chapter 2

chapter two : beware the jabberwock

series masterlist ao3 kofi main masterlist

a/n : took a while to get out but here is chapter two !!! i have a lot of fun writing this fic bc the pacing is so much different than bks but i'm excited to get this chapter out bc i loved writing it so much and i'm so happy that people enjoy this fic so far !!

pairing : monster!joel miller x mortician!reader

rating : 18+ mdni - explicit content, read all warnings

word count : 15.1k (i'm so sorry idk what happened)

summary : new relationships are tricky, especially when your boyfriend likes to disappear for several days with no explanation.

warnings, etc. : dub con?? i'm gonna tag this with that because the sex is like weird in this?? a lot of it is angry or reluctant from one participant at times so i'm gonna tag it just in case, soulmates au, no outbreak au, language, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, fear, feeling of being stalked, feeling of being watched, me making up things regarding the embalming process, animal death, graphic description of the mortuary process, menstruation, derealization (sort of), smut, oral f!recieving, p in v, biting, just like a lot of mouth stuff lmao, cum eating, rough sex, degradation, sort of dumbification, joel is a bit beastly, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise, use of the pet name bunny, nightmares, periods, menstruation, joel is a terrible boyfriend, angry sex, injury, blood, blood drinking, manipulation, not a/b/o but something i made up that is sort of along those lines??, body horror, monsters, predator & prey dynamic, a lot of stuff happens this chap so i might have missed some sorry!!, no physical description of reader but joel is described as being abnormally strong and does pick reader up, there is no actual fucking of a monster yet we can't just do that right out the gate it's a thriller it destroys the thrill if they fuck immediately, that being said; this is a monster fucker fic - proceed accordingly

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

You don’t sleep well after your dream.

Just staring up at the ceiling until the sun is starting to shine through the windows. 

Not that you’ve been sleeping well recently to begin with. And Joel suddenly feels less safe, the grip of his arms around you feels more like it’s trapping you rather than protecting you.

It’s Joel. 

Just take a deep breath. 

It’s Joel. Joel Miller. Sweet, handsome, kind, Joel Miller. Joel who came back, even though you assumed you’d never hear from him again. 

It was nothing more than a dream. 

Stop making up monsters. 

You slip out of his arms, quietly making your way over to the fridge to try and find something to make for breakfast. You haven’t gone shopping in a while, all you’ve got is half a loaf of bread and a few eggs. Good enough. Clicking the stove on you set a pan down, cracking the eggs with a small sizzle as they hit the metal. 

“Up already?” You didn’t hear him wake but when you turn he’s propped up on an elbow watching you. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Not technically a lie. 

“Are you okay?” He sits up a bit and you can feel him sizing you up. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

You aren’t really. 

But you can’t really tell him why, so why bother. 

He stretches his arms above his head as he gets up, making his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and resting his head on your shoulder as you flip the eggs. 

“Hungry?” You’re desperate to think about anything but your dreams, as you speak his grip around your waist tightens. 

“I could eat.” You shudder for several reasons as his teeth graze your neck before nipping at you. 

“These should be done in a few minutes, I just gotta make the toast.” You laugh softly as the scruff of his beard brushes against you. 

He makes it too easy to forget your fears. 

“Mhmm.” The vibrations from his humming make you gasp, nearly dropping the spatula in your hand as he squeezes you for a moment. You work around his advances, putting the bread in the toaster as one of his hands slips under your shirt. 

“How many do you want?” You hold up the bread in front of him, trying to get him to pay attention but it’s getting difficult to stay focused on your task when something is currently pressing against your ass. 

“I think I’m fine with just this.” He squeezes the bare flesh of your torso making you yelp a bit as his hand drifts further up. 

“What happened to your third date rule?” He groans as you reach over to the stove, turning the burner off to keep the eggs from burning before turning around in his arms, your back pressed against the counter. 

“We should go to dinner tonight.” He smiles before leaning forward to kiss you but you put a hand between his mouth and yours. 

“What makes you think I’ve forgiven you enough to warrant another date?”

He pouts. His bottom lip sticking out a bit as he frowns. 

“Wouldn’t matter if I did anyway, it would only be the second date.” You shrug. 

“Last night was the second date.” He says rather matter of factly. 

“That didn’t count.” You can’t help the smile that threatens to form on your as his frown deepens. 

“So you wanna wait for two more dates.” 

Definitely not.

“Tonight?” For a brief moment you try and think of anything else you might be doing but you don’t exactly have a social life here in Honey. 

“S’gotta be, I’m spending tomorrow with Ellie and then I’ll be busy with work, gotta catch up on some things.”

Why would he need to catch up if he’s been busy all week?

“Tonight works.” Even after what he put you through you still feel the strangest pull towards him, dragging him to the table with you as you set down a couple plates. 

“I’ll be here at eight?” He sits, an accomplished look on his face. 

“Works for me.”

You have an uneventful breakfast. 

Neither one of you talks about his disappearing act. And eventually he has to leave for work and so do you, so he gets his things together once you eat.

“Get dressed, I’ll drive you to Maria’s, I gotta pick up Tommy anyway.” He takes a sip of whatever juice you had left over in the fridge as you nod, finding something clean to wear before following him out to the truck. 

He makes it too easy.

He smiles like everything is fine and he holds your hand as he drives.

“Have a good day at work.” You return his smile and he leans across the truck cab to kiss your forehead.

“You too, I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” You wave at him as you walk up to the house, Tommy’s just leaving, giving you a pat on the back as he passes you before jumping in the truck with his brother. With a weak smile you watch them go. 

There are no bodies today.

It’s a paperwork day for both of you. You know Maria’s dying to ask about what happened but she never does, just staring up at you every once in a while, always looking like she’s about to say something before choosing not to. 

You decide to throw her a bone. 

“I’m having dinner with Joel tonight.” You can’t ignore the surprised smile on her face. 

“I’m glad you two seem to be getting along.”

“Yeah, apparently he got caught up in his work for a few days.” You try and get a reaction out of her but she goes emotionless, giving you only a hum in response. 

You don’t try to start another conversation after that until you say good night at the end of your shift. Giving her a small wave before stepping into the misty evening air. 

You keep your eyes on the trees the entire walk home but nothing seems out of sorts and before you know it you’re safe in the camper.

You’re dressed and ready to go when the truck pulls up. You aren’t sure where exactly you’re supposed to be going but you’re ready nonetheless, deciding on just jeans and a plain tshirt. What you aren’t expecting is when Joel steps out of the truck with grocery bags and a grin plastered on his face.

“I thought we could cook together.” He says as he makes his way up the steps inside. 

“You know how to cook?” You try not to sound as surprised as you are but he just laughs. 

“I have two kids. I know how to cook.” He sets the bag on the counter and you open it, he’s brought bread, cheese, and cans of tomato soup. 

“What exactly do you plan on cooking?”

“Grilled cheese.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and any worries you had about tonight go out the window. 

“You really went all out for tonight.” You raise your eyebrows at him.

He nods, searching through the cabinets for a pan and a pot. 

“When you said cook together you meant you cook and I watch, right?” You lift yourself up onto the counter as he lights the stove. 

“Obviously.” He sets everything down and you watch him fish around the top of the fridge for a few seconds before pulling down a rather dusty old radio. “I knew she had one somewhere.” He grins as he sets it down beside you, plugging it in and fidgeting with the knobs until the static turns into music. 

You don’t recognize the song that plays but he does, as he hums along, opening the two cans, emptying them into the pot. 

You had been so nervous about tonight, nightmares aside, you had expected a totally different Joel, the kind of person who ignores you for a week and expects immediate forgiveness. But instead he continues to be just Joel. Joel, who’s very presence lulls you into an overpowering sense of comfort. The moment he stepped inside the camper the entire space became heavy with his cologne, everything smells like the forest, as if you’re surrounded by pine trees and not the four walls around you. 

“We should do something this week.” He turns to you as he butters the bread, setting it in the pan with a quiet sizzle. 

“Don’t you have work, and Ellie?” You tear open the plastic wrapper on the cheese, handing him a few slices. 

“I do, but I can get Tommy to watch her for a night.” He tosses them down onto the bread before opening a drawer, riffling around until he finds a spatula. 

You hum along to the music with him when the song changes to something familiar, watching him cook. 

He looks at home with you, like he belongs right here. 

You both laugh your way through dinner, it’s outrageous how charming he can be, he tells you about the house he’s building, and how his brother ordered the wrong kind of cement. (You didn’t know there was a wrong kind.) And he tells you about how Ellie’s picked up some curse words, apparently there’s quite an argument happening between the Millers regarding who she learned them from. 

You’ve always been hesitant to talk about work, especially on dates because you never know how people are going to react. Not everyone has the same relationship with death that you have. So when he says, how has working for Maria been? You aren’t exactly sure what to say. 

“It’s good.” 

“That’s it? It’s good?” He looks up at you, giving you that lopsided fucking smirk and you can’t help but just melt at the sight of it. 

“We’ve been… busy, lots of work the last few days, now we’re just funeral planning, this week we’ve got a funeral pretty much everyday, Maria’s swamped.” 

“What made you choose this line of work?”

You never really know how to answer that question. 

“Because I like to play with dead things.” Never gets the laugh you hope for, and the real answer just makes you sad.  

“I like to fix things.” You instinctively break eye contact, staring down at an uneven floor board you’d never noticed before under the table. “I like knowing that I can help people in that way, to fix them one last time.” 

For a moment he doesn’t speak, when you look back up at him he simply looks at you with something that resembles yearning. 

“That’s nice.” 

You’re glad he thinks so. 

He takes the dishes, rinsing them in the sink despite your protests. 

Your palms are getting clammy. 

This is, by his count, your third date. 

Is it weird that this feels scheduled? It was different when you’d brought him home after your first date, that felt natural, your body innately wanted to be with him. How do you even start this kind of thing when it feels so planned? You both know what you want but it feels strange to just outright say, so is this the part where we have sex? 

He dries his hands on his jeans and clears his throat as he turns back to you, holding his hand out, you aren’t really sure what he’s doing until he pulls you up from your seat, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

It isn’t the kind of song you can slow dance to, it’s fast and upbeat.

But as far as you can tell, Joel isn’t the kind of guy who dances in the first place, so you bring your free hand up to his shoulder and join him in his attempts to dance. 

I heat up, I can't cool down

You got me spinning

There isn’t a lot of floor space in the camper but he makes it work by holding you close and mostly just spinning you as he nods along to the music.

'Round and 'round

'Round and 'round and 'round it goes

If his goal was to put you at ease then it’s working, any remaining nerves you have fizzled out completely. You laugh in earnest, not out of fear, as he bumps his nose against yours. 

Where it stops nobody knows

Every time you call my name

I heat up like a burning flame

Burning flame full of desire

Kiss me baby, let the fire get higher

He keeps his forehead flush with yours as you continue to sway your hips back and forth to the beat, the both of you laughing and spinning, you watch curiously as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. 

Abra abracadabra

I wanna reach out and grab ya

Abra abracadabra

Abracadabra

With a satisfied sigh he opens his eyes, his gaze going from simple infatuation to something darker. When the song ends he pulls you close, so you’re chest to chest and reaches over, turning down the radio. 

“So…” You can’t stop smiling as you stare at him through your lashes. 

“So.” He gently guides you, his hands on your hips as he walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 

“I’ve got a long day tomorrow, I should probably get some sleep.” You give him an exaggerated yawn and point at the bed, plastering a mock apologetic look on your face. 

“You’re really funny.” He leans down to give you a chaste kiss before picking you up. His strength is still a wonder to you. 

The way he throws you down onto your bed makes you erupt into a fit of giggles but he certainly isn’t laughing anymore as he drags you by your ankles to the edge of the mattress, a look of concentration on his face now. 

“Joel!” You shriek as you hear the tearing of the zipper on your jeans. 

“M’sorry.” He grumbles, making no effort to slow down as he tugs them down. 

He doesn’t sound sorry.

“It’s a zipper, just unzip it for Christ's sake.” His sudden change in demeanor leaves you a little breathless, in the blink of an eye he’s gone from remarkably gentle to practically unhinged.

“S’too late for that.” He groans softly as he kneels on the camper floor, throwing your legs over his shoulders. 

“You owe me a new pair-” Your voice trails off into a stuttered moan as his mouth latches onto the front of your panties, dragging his tongue over the wet spot that’s been forming all night. 

“We can go to the mall sometime this week.” He mumbles against your cunt before you feel his teeth grazing the fabric before tearing it apart completely. 

“Jesus, Joel!” Instinctively your hands grip his hair as he buries his face between your legs. 

How sharp are his teeth? 

He’s all consuming. Like he’s trying to lay claim to every single part of you. And he’s loud, it’s a good thing you don’t have neighbors. Lewd slurping noises as he laps at your dripping hole like it’s his fucking job. 

He flattens his tongue, dragging it through your folds, for a moment you aren’t sure what he’s doing, but it feels fucking amazing. The way his tongue moves in and out of you, occasionally drawing a lazy circle around your clit, it isn’t like anything anyones ever done before. It takes you a moment to realize that he isn’t necessarily trying to make you feel good (despite the effect it may be having on you,) you’re pretty sure he’s tasting you. 

Drinking you in. If he’s trying to get you off it’s only because he wants more. 

“S’ so sweet.” He mumbles against your thigh, biting the meat there making you cry out a bit before he returns to his work between your legs. 

“Joel- fuck, Joel please.” You manage to stutter out between gasps, when did he become so gruff? You never could have predicted that he would be like this in bed, his grip on you is certain to leave bruises and you can barely think straight after just a few minutes with his head between your thighs. The noises he makes as his lips wrap around your clit are down right pornagraphic. Your vision is starting to go white around the edges as he does the first gentle thing since he started, sucking that bundle of nerves almost lazily. Through shuttered breaths you manage to mumble out his name a few more times your vision whites out completely. 

You’re a little surprised at how quickly he manages to pull an orgasm from you, your skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat as you sit up, pulling him up by his hair as you crash your lips against his, tasting your own slick on his tongue. He moves so feverishly as you feel his hands spreading you again, teasing your entrance with two fingers before slowly pushing them in. 

“Joel- oh my god-” He silences your rambling with his mouth again, swallowing your groan once he’s knuckle deep inside you. His brows furrow in concentration as he starts to pump them in and out of you. “P-please.” You stammer out. 

It’s such a sharp contrast to the Joel you’re used to, he’s so… unruly. 

“So fucking tight.” He mutters before grinding his palm against your clit, pulling another series of gasps from your throat. “Such a pretty, tight, wet cunt.” He whispers against your jaw and you feel a third finger pushing into you. 

You hadn’t expected him to be so vulgar, turns out he’s only all southern manners outside of the bedroom. You’re starting to see stars all over again as you feel the stretch of his thick fingers, he nips at your jaw before pressing them in deep, focusing on grinding the heel of his palm into your clit until you’re soaking his hand, hands tugging at his hair as a second orgasm is ripped out of you with a shudder. Your head falls back with a noisy whine, you can’t decide if you want more or less, his touch burns your skin but you feel so cold without it.  

“Please, please Joel.” You exhale the words, scratching lightly at his shoulders with a whine. 

“Tell me what you want.” His voice is lower than ever and you watch as he unzips his jeans, shoving them off and taking his cock in between his fingers, still slick with your release. Your eyes go wide as he strokes himself a few times, he’s thick, hefty, you’re trying not to stare slack-jawed at the way he fills his own hand.  You grab the bottom of his shirt, pulling it off in an attempt to feel more of his skin against you.

“Fuck me… please.” You tack on the please at the end hoping he doesn’t make you wait much longer as you gawk at his pretty tan skin. You don’t even know where to look, you run your fingers through the coarse sprinkle of black and gray hair on his chest as he crawls further up the bed to hover above you.

He takes your thighs, pushing them up against your stomach, his eyes dark with something reminiscent of hunger. You hook your own arms around your knees to keep yourself in that position as he takes hold of his cock once more, guiding himself into you with a strangled groan.

“Christ…” He mumbles under his breath as he slides just the tip of himself in, your own breath hitching at the size of him. He tilts head town, pressing a soft kiss to your chin. 

He splays his palms out on your thighs, leveraging himself as he carefully rocks his hips back and forth, slowly working himself into you. The camper fills with the sounds of your collective noises. Joel is loud. Grunting and growling as he fully buries himself in your heat. 

He scans your face for signs of distress, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, the tiniest sting from the stretch pulls a whine out of you but you only nod as he stares into your eyes. 

“More, Joel.”

Once he has your approval he starts moving, setting a pace that for a few thrusts is slow before picking up. Quickly becoming downright brutal, every slam of his pelvis against yours drives his cock deeper into you. He feels as if he was made for this, he’s just big enough that it doesn’t hurt, simply an overwhelming feeling of fullness. 

Your body begins to tense up all over again, you wrap your arms around his torso as much as you can in this position, scratching at his back. He leans forward, going in for a kiss before moving around your face, kissing your jaw, forehead, nose, and temples. When he kisses the apples of your cheeks you feel his tongue darting out. 

Did he just lick up a tear? 

He snaps his hips forward, disrupting your train of thought, his teeth barred as he does so, eyes fixed on every one of your reactions. He’s practically snarling as you let your head fall back against the mattress, the head of his cock driving into your g-spot.

“Wanna come again already, bunny?” You make a real spectacle of yourself, hooking your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in deeper. “Greedy little thing…”

“Joel please-”

“Joel please.” He mocks. “Is that all you can say now?” You keen softly but he only grins as you tighten around him. 

“P-please…” You squeak out as he snaps hips forward once more. 

“Come again, I wanna feel this pretty cunt come.” He snarls against your neck, leaving a trail of bites until he reaches your shoulder, a particularly harsh bite has you crying out.

“Joel!” You grit your teeth, a wave of heat washes over you as you come one last time, you feel his tongue dragging across the bite mark. 

It’s all so close to being painful.

Your stomach aches from the overstimulation, and you register a faint stinging feeling when he laps at the bite. Your walls clench around him, strangling his cock, and his hands instantly leave your legs, gripping the sheets instead.  

“Fuck, fuck.” He barely pulls out in time, coming on your stomach. You reach down in your haze, scooping some of his load onto your finger before sliding them between your lips. 

Fucking salted caramel. 

Sweet and sticky on your tongue. 

He pants above you, watching with an intoxicated look as you dip your fingers into his cum over and over again until your stomach is bare.

He nudges his nose against yours, rubbing every part of his face against you for a few minutes. It’s wildly intimate and you're once again a little taken aback by his sudden tone shift. 

“Was that okay?” He drawls, once again searching your face for any indication that you might not be. 

You nod, beaming up at him and letting him rest the bridge of his nose on yours for a few moments more before you slip out of his arms, stepping into the bathroom. You relieve yourself before going to sort yourself out in the mirror. 

You’re bleeding. 

Where he bit you, two mirroring crescents, red and angry on your shoulder, leaking blood. 

“Shit.” You grab a handful of toilet paper, wiping it clean before rinsing it in the sink and returning to him.  

“Everything okay?” He’s pulled his boxers on, tossing you his shirt which you’re eager to put on. You don’t want him to see the bite. 

“Everything’s fine.” You crawl back up into the bed beside him. 

He stays the night, pulling you to his chest and caging you in with his arms. 

And you aren’t haunted by dreams. 

In the morning a part of you worries he’ll disappear all over again, you’re a little surprised when he texts you just a few minutes after he drives off.  [ can’t wait to see you again soon bunny ]

Joel follows through on his promise. 

A few days later he picks you up from work and drives you to the outlet mall about an hour away, saying he needs to get some stuff for Ellie as well. Apparently she likes to throw plates so he wants to find the kind that suction onto the table. As he drives the radio plays a country song you don’t recognize which he hums along to as you watch the trees outside the window. 

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about my aunt.” He turns the music down once you start speaking. 

“Darlene? You probably know her better than I do.” He doesn’t seem very eager to talk about her but it only makes you want to know more. 

“Doubt it. All I know about her is that she wasn’t close with anyone in my family.”

“You weren’t close? But she left you her camper.”

“That’s why I need to know anything you might know about her, I know nothing.” He seems hesitant and you’re worried if you keep pushing it he won’t tell you anything at all. 

“She was a lonely old woman, had me fix things for her often, I honestly think she just wanted company.” His voice softens a bit as he says it. 

“She didn’t have friends here in Honey?” 

“Not that I know of, she was a bit of a shut in, sweetest woman I’ve ever met, just a bit… skittish. She worked from home and I’m pretty sure someone delivered her groceries. The only time I ever saw her outside was when I was fixing her roof and she sat in a lawn chair to talk to me while I did.” 

“She worked from home?” 

“Yeah, something on her laptop, I’m not entirely sure.” You’ve never seen a laptop. 

You’ve been living in the camper for nearly six months and you’ve never seen a laptop. 

But that’s not what interests you the most right now. 

“What do you mean by skittish?” You’re trying to gauge his reaction but he doesn’t seem to have one. 

“Maybe skittish isn’t the right word. Eccentric? Some of the kids in town called her ditzy Darlene.” His expression sours as he says it. 

“That’s horrible.”

“It was.”

“Why?” He seems more reluctant than ever but now you’re just upset on behalf of the woman who left you everything.

“She fed into a lot of the legends around town, and didn't seem to have any hobbies outside of monster hunting.”

“Monster hunting?”

“She was the only local who went to the gift shops, searching for a monster she swears she saw.”

Sounds familiar.

“Did she ever find any?” 

“Monsters?” He laughs. “Not that I know of.”

“Did you think she was crazy?”

“I think she was lonely, and I think when you spend that much time alone your mind can wander.”

“But did you think she was crazy?” 

“No.” He puts an end to the conversation by putting the truck in park. You hadn’t even realized you were there, the outlet mall is so small. His southern manners remain persistent as he jogs around the truck to open your door for you, holding onto you to provide balance as you hop out.

You aren’t sure where anything is so you just follow him, taking his hand in yours as you walk. He takes you into a clothing store you don’t recognize the name of and waits patiently as you try on a few different pairs of jeans. It’s been quite some time since you’ve bought new clothes so you get a few pairs, you’re worried it’s boring for him to just wait outside the changing room but when you walk out with three pairs slung over your arm he still looks happy as can be. When you go to pay he opens his wallet, silencing your protests with a reminder that it’s his fault you needed new jeans in the first place. 

After that he takes his time, the two of you walk hand in hand through each store, he doesn’t even look around most of them, seemingly content with just spending time with you. 

He manages to find a few rubber bowls with suction cup bottoms for Ellie as well as some spanish flashcards and you decide to get a pair of blue hiking boots, if you’re gonna be walking everywhere you might as well be comfortable. 

At the last store you stop at you find a nice perfume, spraying a bit into the air and inhaling. It reminds you of springtime, it’s light, floral, but when Joel catches a whiff of it he scrunches his nose up. 

“You don’t like it?” You set the bottle back down. 

“I like the way you smell now.” You frown, trying to remember what shampoo and body wash you’ve been using. If you recall correctly it’s just some generic brand you’d bought ages ago. 

“I didn’t know you spoke spanish?” You remark, pointing at the bag containing the cards, opting to just change the subject rather than give yourself a headache trying to remember. 

“I don’t, but Sarah does and she’s been insisting I teach Ellie while she’s gone, something about it being better if she’s bilingual.”

“I think that’s sweet.” You swing your arms a bit, keeping his hand in yours as he walks you out of the store and in the direction of the truck. 

“Of course you think it’s sweet, you're not the one with two daughters who will be using their secret language against you.” He takes his keys from his pocket, clicking the unlock button. 

“It’s not a secret language, if your baby can learn it then I’m sure you can.” He helps you up into the truck once more, shutting the door behind you.

It’s almost comically difficult to keep your hands off him when you’re alone, especially now that you have a taste for him. Even just being in the truck with the windows up is suffocating, the smell of his aftershave or his laundry detergent drives you mad the moment you’re stuck in an enclosed space with him. 

You slide across the truck so you’re in the middle seat as he pulls out of the parking lot. It’s like you feel sick when you aren’t touching him, like you’re suffering from this barely noticeable nausea and you don’t realize you were even dealing with it until it’s gone. 

You watch curiously as he keeps one hand on the wheel and brings the other to rest on your thigh. His shoulders relax the moment he does, his frown lines smooth themselves out a bit. 

He’s just so warm, and he’s so nice to be near. Today he smells like a candle you used to have, something you lit around Christmas time. He smells like cookies and peppermint. 

You can’t help but turn your head a bit, trying to discreetly inhale the scent of his jacket.

To say that Joel Miller becomes the perfect boyfriend would be an understatement. 

He drives you to work, he sends you flowers, (which gets confusing in a funeral home.) he holds open doors, and he always texts you back. 

Quite literally everything gets better once he’s back in your life. 

You don’t get anymore mangled bodies, only a few from the nursing home and one from a nearby hospital, it’s mostly just funeral planning these days. You see Joel daily, Maria and Tommy seem a little surprised every time he dotes on you and you can’t help but wonder what he’s done to earn such a reaction, but he’s so sweet you hardly care. Between both of you working and him having a toddler you’re shocked he makes as much time for you as he does. You see him every morning when he takes you into work but he also insists on seeing you twice a week, whether it’s going out, or ordering in, or just dragging him into your bed, he always makes time for you. 

You even spend a little time with Ellie. Joel spends a lot of time with her at the funeral home so you often see her in little doses, she seems indifferent towards you which worries you until you realize she acts that way towards everyone but her father. It’s remarkable to watch him with her, he’s soft with you but with her it’s something else entirely. She sticks to him like glue and you’ve never once seen him look bothered by that fact, you assume she’d get bored just sitting in his arms but she never does. He likes to tell her jokes and you aren’t even sure she understands them but without fail she bursts into a fit of giggles every time he gets to the punchline. 

It’s good with him, everything is easier. Everything just sort of makes sense with Joel and for the first time in a long time everything feels right. 

Until the morning you wake up, a sticky feeling between your legs and an ache in your belly.

“Shit.” You roll out of bed, quickly shedding your clothes, tossing them into the laundry bin before texting Joel.

[ hot date idea for us, you drive me to the laundromat and then watch me do my laundry ] 

Setting your phone down you hop into the shower, washing away the blood with a groan, you spend far too long under the water, when you finally step out and check your phone you’re running late, you pull open the curtains a bit to see if Joel’s already waiting for you but much to your confusion you aren’t met with the familiar sight of the truck.

You had never really discussed him driving you to work; it was just something he’d started doing, you probably shouldn’t have expected it to be a permanent thing. 

You haphazardly pull yourself together, tossing on whatever looks clean before grabbing your phone and bag, rushing out the door. 

The cool morning air stings your face as you quickly walk down the familiar gravel driveway towards the home, you’re already preparing your excuse for why you’re so late but Maria doesn’t even notice as you step into the office, she’s busy on a call.

You recognize the look on her face, she’s talking to a family. You step inside, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from her desk as you wait. She seems to be at the end of the conversation. 

You couldn’t be more grateful that she takes care of telling the families. You’ve never been good at that kind of thing. She hangs up with a gentle, goodbye, smiling up at you as you try and imagine a situation in which your job was to deliver such terrible news. 

The ache in your stomach snaps you back to reality. 

Fuck. You forgot to bring anything.

“Any chance you have a pad?” You give her an apologetic look.

Based on her expression you’d think you’d just asked her for a lung. Several emotions flash across her face in an instant, but mostly she looks like someone who just solved a riddle that had been plaguing them for quite some time. She snaps out of it quickly though, giving you a curt nod. 

“Of course, let me just run upstairs.”

It’s an older man, graying and wearing what is obviously hiking gear.

Poor guy. 

He’s torn apart, the worst you’ve seen so far, his limbs have all been individually torn off, they lay, separated from the rest of him on the table. 

It’s an open casket so you’re gonna be down here all day. 

You text Joel one last time before setting your phone down. 

[ gonna be pretty busy all day, got another bear attack, i’ll call you when i’m on my way home. ] 

With that you get to work, putting on your gown and gloves, and starting at the torn clothes. It’s hard to figure out where his clothes start and his skin ends with the condition his body is in but you manage to cut him out of everything so you can properly assess the damage. 

You’re getting used to seeing these messy wounds, the sight of torn flesh. It should be a pretty easy job all things considered. He’ll be in a suit so you’ll just reattach everything and no one will ever have to see the extent of his wounds. 

You check everything twice, making sure that you’ve got the left and right correct before you start sewing things back up. You try to mimic the way you saw Maria do it, careful and practiced stitches.

You finish the legs easily enough, both had been ripped off just above the knee, you’re about to start on the arms when you drop the needle in surprise. 

How didn’t you realize this before? 

You’ve been preparing these bodies for weeks now and you’ve never once noticed one harrowing detail. You’re used to tending to bodies that have already seen a pathologist. Bodies with their organs in a bag, with their blood drained, ready to be prepared for a funeral or cremation. And you’ve been so focused on doing a good job to impress Maria that you’ve failed to take note of the most obvious thing before you. 

There’s no blood. 

None of the bodies you’ve tended to from the bear attacks have blood, all of their organs remain intact but because Maria declares cause of death you know she doesn’t drain them. You’ve drained everyone who hasn’t been sent in from a bear attack. 

Maybe Maria drained them before you got in.

But that isn’t possible, you know that, you’d have seen the equipment, and you’ve gotten bodies straight from the scene, already drained. 

You reach over to grab a scalpel off the table. 

You shouldn’t do this. You could probably be fired for it, but as long as no one finds out you’ll be fine. All the damage to this cadaver has been done to its limbs, so hypothetically, if you were to slice open his chest you would see blood, dried or otherwise. 

So you do just that. 

You carve out a small, clean, incision vertically on his sternum. 

Nothing. 

You’ve got a pen flashlight that you shine into his chest cavity only to find his organs. Dry. 

He’s been completely drained of his blood. 

You stitch him up quickly, finishing the job as swiftly as possible before running up the stairs, mumbling a rushed excuse to Maria before running the entire way home. 

Joel doesn’t text you back. 

This isn’t happening, not again, he wouldn’t do this again. 

You feel like you’re gonna be sick. 

An image flashes through your mind. 

Joel.

Lips curled back in a snarl. 

No. That wasn’t real, it was just a dream. Although the line between the two has been getting blurrier. 

Joel isn’t out there draining people of their blood, that’s absurd, even if he goes missing and those dates happen to coincide with the days that you get bloodless corpses. 

It’s a coincidence. 

Or it isn’t. 

Maybe for one second you should just let yourself consider the possibility that something is terribly wrong. 

You thoroughly check the two bodies you get the next day. 

They come in together, a couple from out of state hiking in the park. Neither one of them bleeds. 

The day after that you wake up early and walk to the funeral home as the sun rises. You watch the hearse wheel in the body, and you make sure you’re the first person to see her. 

A tragically beautiful woman who appears to be in her late forties, maybe early fifties. 

None of her wounds are bloody, and when you open her chest cavity it’s like someone drank her insides with a straw. 

You’re nearly at your breaking point, nothing you’re looking at makes any sense. 

You spend that night in bed, unable to sleep as you try and figure out what the hell is going on. 

Joel doesn’t answer your calls. 

He doesn’t respond to your several angry texts. 

And something deep down within you tells you that asking Maria would be a mistake. 

You’re completely alone on this. 

So you call Maria and you tell her that you’re sick and won’t be in tomorrow. Then you look up the bus schedule in and out of town.

The bus comes in and out of Honey twice, every other day. Lucky for you, today is one of the days the bus will be there in the morning, and return in the evening. 

The bus stop is empty when you arrive, the misty morning air clings to your skin as you stare out into the surrounding forest. 

Something is out there. 

And you’re gonna find out what it is.

You can’t keep being afraid, this is your home now, and you won’t be driven away by some imaginary monster. 

It starts to drizzle when you look out the window of the bus, watching Honey disappear behind you. 

You have a plan. 

Well sort of. 

You’re going to find some literature on the subject. You’re sick of feeling crazy so you’re going to prove yourself right. Something is very wrong in Honey, and monster or not, you’re going to figure it out. 

You don’t catch the name of the town you end up in, you just get off at the stop that looks the most tourist friendly, assuming that there has to be a book store somewhere in town. 

You only have to walk main street for a few minutes before you find it. 

It’s a quaint little shop tucked in between an attorney's office and a gift shop. 

Betty’s Books

Dimly lit and jam packed wall to wall with books, a small elderly woman sits behind the counter, reading a Stephen King novel. 

“Excuse me?” You clear your throat as she looks up at you over her wiry glasses. 

“How can I help you?” Her smile is warm, it fills the entire shop with an aura of comfort. 

You’re going to sound ridiculous. And the moment you do this you’ll be speaking it into existence. 

You don’t have any other options. 

“Do you have anything on local urban legends?” You try not to sound too ashamed but her smile never falters as she points. 

“Back left corner, dear.” 

“Thank you.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.” She’s already buried her nose back in her book before you turn towards the rest of the shop. 

You begin searching the shelves for anything that could possibly help you, there’s several different books on bigfoot and the loch ness monster. There are a lot of empty spaces between books and you have to assume that this is what most tourists are buying. 

People in search of ghosts and myths. 

Are you any better than them? 

Running out into the darkness, looking for a monster you very well may have made up. 

You look through a few more options before finally settling on a thick, leather bound book, you pull it from its place and stare down at the embossed cover. 

A Beginners Guide to Cryptozoology : West Virginian Monsters 

You aren’t going to find a better place to start. 

You move back towards the front, stopping in front of the children's section.

Lullabies & Poems for Bedtime 

A rabbit with a pocket watch, asleep under a tree, adorns the cover. 

Ellie might like that. 

Even if you’re madder than hell at her father. 

You grab the little white book, setting both onto the counter, paying before stepping out into the rain. You’ve got hours until the bus back to Honey returns so you quickly make your way to a diner across the street, keeping the books tucked into your jacket. 

A little bell chimes as you push the door open, sitting yourself at one of the free booths you set the books down on the table. 

The waitress brings you coffee and water as you set your jacket aside, you order a plate of fries just to give you something to do as you watch the rain on the diner windows for a bit. 

Eventually you know you can’t put it off anymore so you open up the book and sit back, taking care to read every single page, not wanting to miss a thing. 

The first thing you learn is that there are a startling number of unnamed monsters. 

It covers the basics in the first few chapters, mothman, bigfoot, chupacabra, and werewolves, but the second half of the book is entirely monsters with no names, only ink drawing accompanying the descriptions. For a while you find nothing, eventually ordering a milkshake which you sip as you skim the pages.

After two hours you’re about to give up when you stumble across a page that finally shows something familiar. 

A drawing of a body, mangled, with wounds you recognize. 

Five slashes across the chest, both arms completely torn off. 

This creature is thought to reside only in heavily wooded areas, it was speculated to be located in the southern United States for several decades before disappearing completely. 

Since then people have claimed to have seen this creature in many different locations although the majority seem to be centralized to the east coast of North America, resembling a lich, or a wendigo. 

When you turn the page the illustration of the monster stares back at you. 

It’s hard to make out what’s what and it looks mostly like inky scribbles but within those lines you see the creature you’ve been imagining. Long, sharp limbs, massive shoulders, and a face almost reminiscent of a humans, everything is just… distorted. 

While technically unnamed, there are many unique pieces of folklore attached to this specific creature. Witnesses claim to have seen this monster transform from human to creature and vice versa, as if they walk among us in their free time. 

What sets the creature apart from many other creatures of this variety is their affinity for humans. More often than not we’ve gotten reports of these creatures seeking out human mates.

We have several different claims from people saying they’ve seen the transformation happen right before their very eyes. One man claimed to have watched his sister in law turn at Thanksgiving dinner. Another says that he saw a cousin's boyfriend disappear into the woods during a wedding, transforming into a beast as he did. 

According to old legends there is thought to be a connection between these creatures and their mates, quite literally bonding them in blood. The males are believed to be linked to their human mates menstrual cycles; if they have one, the females are linked to their own. There are many different descriptions of what this means for human mates. Some believe that when this creature comes in contact with their mate that they permanently revert to their human forms. Others believe they’re hunger for flesh only grows after coming in contact with them.

But most believe that they eat their mate. Plain and simple. That their blood is more potent to them than anyone else’s, so much so that any love they may harbor for them is irrelevant, they are simply blinded by their bloodlust. 

Its victims often resemble that of an animal attack. Bodies torn apart, mangled, often believers of this legend are ‘disproven’ because of this fact, but there is always one thing that separates this creature's kills from that of an animal. Animals who eat their victims will do exactly that, eat them, this creature does no such thing, while it does massacre its victims it will rarely consume its flesh, preferring the taste of blood. 

There have been no confirmed sightings of these creatures and we have been unable to trace its origins or obtain any photographic evidence, maybe it really is just an animal. 

Monster or bear? It’s up to you.

It’s up to you. 

You slam the book shut.

It’s nonsense. 

Joel isn’t some blood drinking, period monster. But you came all this way, looking for a monster, and seemingly you’ve found it. 

You pick up the little book for Ellie, taking a sip of your coffee. 

Maybe it’ll make you feel better. 

You open it to find a familiar little song on the inside of the cover.

I know you,

I walked with you once upon a dream. 

You flip through it, mostly admiring the beautiful illustrations, they look like watercolors. There’s a frog with a crown, princesses with flowing gowns and witches grinning up at you from the pages. It isn’t until some random page in the middle that you actually stop to read the poem. The drawing accompanying this one isn’t colorful, only black ink, a drastic change from everything so far. 

Jabberwocky

By: Lewis Carroll 

It unsettles you to look at so you focus on the words instead. You know this creature, it’s from Alice in Wonderland. The poem is whimsical, you can imagine a child finding it rather entertaining should a parent read it with enthusiasm. You don’t have a parent reading it to you though, you’re alone, staring at the lines that have caught your eye. 

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

No more books today. 

When you check your phone there are no new notifications. So Joel is either a terrible boyfriend or a potential murderer. 

How comforting. 

Fuck it. 

You click on his contact.

[ TEXT ME BACK RIGHT NOW. OR WE’RE THROUGH. ] 

Monsters aren’t real. 

Joel Miller is just the worst boyfriend (soon to be ex-boyfriend) on the planet. 

It doesn’t help that you catch a glimpse of a tampon wrapper in your bag when you throw your phone back into it. 

It’s a coincidence. 

You can’t say anything to anyone about this, how would it look if ditzy Darlene’s niece showed up and started spinning stories of her own? You can’t do it, you know exactly what people would say. They’d say it ran in the family and they’d find a reason to be cruel to her even in death. 

So you take the bus home in silence. 

For the next few days barely speak to Maria other than polite greetings, you’re certain she doesn’t notice, both of you are swamped. You’ve got a body everyday the rest of the week and she’s up to her neck in paperwork. 

And Joel never texts.

Maria’s juggling Ellie and trying to fill out papers when you get in the next morning. 

“Thank god you’re here, can you run upstairs and grab something for me, there’s a little makeup bag on the counter in the bathroom, I forgot it earlier and I’m waiting on a phone call regarding the couple we had.” 

“Of course.” You set your things down before reaching for Ellie. “Here, let me take her so you can do that.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you.” Almost as if on cue the phone rings the moment she says it. You head towards the stairs, the toddler in your arms scrunches up her face as if trying to recall your identity. 

“You know me, silly, I’m friends with your daddy.” At the mention of her father she seems to relax and you open the door at the top of the stairs. 

You’ve never actually been in this part of the house before, you’ve always stayed in the business section. You don’t get a chance to look around, the bathroom is the first door on your left. A bag the size of a pencil box is on the counter, you hand it to Ellie, her little hands play with the bag as you carefully bounce her in your arms. 

“Do you know where your daddy is?” You poke her in the belly making her smile at you for the first time. “Not gonna snitch?” You tickle her side, earning a tiny giggle. You let her play with the zipper as you bring her back downstairs. “Any bodies today?” You yell as you descend the stairs. 

“Had a cremation from the home this morning, I’ve just got a lot of papers, I’m planning six funerals simultaneously right now.” 

Six massacred corpses in six days. 

“Where’s Tommy?” Ellie puts up a bit of a fight for the bag but you set it down on the desk just in time to watch Marias grip on her pen tighten. 

Yikes. Must be a sore spot right now. 

“He’s got a work thing, left me with that little monster.” She uses the pen to point at the toddler who’s already starting to get antsy in your arms. 

If you’ve got no bodies today you might as well offer to help.

“I can watch Ellie if you’d like.” 

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, want me to keep her upstairs? I’m sure you don’t want me watching her in the basement.” You laugh a little as she nods. 

“You really are a lifesaver, I don’t know how I managed without you.” 

“Oh stop, you clearly did just fine before I came along.” Your face gets a bit hot at the compliment. 

“I’ll be up in a few hours once I finish up here, you two have fun.” She doesn’t give any instruction beyond that so you just take Ellie back upstairs. You haven’t spent much time with her beyond the small interactions in passing but you know she doesn’t like doing nothing unless it’s with Joel. She’s trying to get out of your arms the second you’re at the top of the stairs. You set her down in the entryway and she’s already running into the kitchen. 

You don’t want to snoop but you actually get to take a good look around as Ellie settles in front of a pile of notebooks and a mess of crayons on the kitchen floor. It’s a pretty open floor plan, the kitchen and living room are all one big room and from the looks of it they must watch Ellie often, an outsider would assume they have a child of their own. A play pen is set up on the floor of the living room and toys are scattered everywhere. 

“Are you hungry, sweetie? Do you want something to eat?” There’s different snacks on the counter as you walk over to where she’s playing. 

“Yes please.” Her voice is clear and high pitched, you’re actually a little surprised, you didn’t even know she could talk, she’s always silent when you’re around. There’s an assortment of different things on the counter so you just find something that’s already open. Handing her a little container of apple puffs, she doesn’t look up from her drawings, just blindly reaching over and grabbing a handful as you sit at the counter to watch over her. 

She’s a very well behaved baby all things considered. 

You have to stop her from drawing on the walls a few times and at one point she stuffed a handful of food between the couch cushions but other than that she’s rather relaxed. She sits and draws mostly, only occasionally getting up and doing a few laps around the room before returning to her papers. 

At one point she makes her way to where you’re sitting, slapping your leg to get your attention until you pick her up, she points to the window above the sink and when you take her there she simply stares out at the trees. 

She’s focused on the woods as you watch her expression, her face is oddly serious. 

After a few minutes you set her down, unease filling your body. She doesn’t seem to mind though as she runs back to her drawings, you return to the counter, checking your phone for a few minutes until she appears in your peripherals once more, tapping your leg again, handing you one of her drawings. 

At several different moments this week you’ve thought that you’ve reached your breaking point. 

None of those compare to how you feel when you pick up the paper Ellie had been scribbling on. 

It’s crude and mostly indiscernible but you know exactly what you’re looking at. 

A monster. 

A broad shouldered, sharp toothed, crayon monster. 

You stare at the little girl, trying to keep your composure as you pick her up, setting her in your lap and pointing at the mess of scribbles on the page. 

You feel crazier than ever, asking a toddler for help but no one else is around and you’re running out of options. 

“Can you tell me what that is, sweetie? What did you draw?” You hand her the drawing back which she crumples a bit in her fist before setting it on the counter, you point again at the creature. “Ellie, honey, can you tell me what this is please?” You’re doing your best to keep calm as she kicks her legs a bit before staring up at you with a frown. 

“Daddy?” For someone so small she speaks so loudly and clearly, but you just shake your head. 

“I know, honey, you want your daddy, I wish I knew where he was but you’re stuck with me today.” You smooth out her hair a bit as she scrunches up her face, looking rather upset. 

“T��o.” She points down at the drawing before looking back at you for approval, you just smile. You feel like an idiot. Asking a child for help. A child who can barely speak. 

“It’s okay, you’re too little to understand.” You hold her under one arm as you walk around the counter to the fridge. “How about I get you some juice.” 

You find a clean sippy cup, pouring her some apple juice before setting her back down, handing her the cup and searching through your bag. 

“I almost forgot, I got you a present.” She perks up immediately, setting her cup down as you hold the little white book out towards her.

“Thanks!” Her eyes light up as she takes it from you, it’s one of the few times you’ve seen her smile without her father being in the room, sitting on the floor before looking back up at you, tapping the spot next to her until you sit as well. 

“Do you want me to read it to you?” You watch as she sets it down in front of her, she’s surprisingly gentle as she flips open the cover. 

“No thank you.” She’s enraptured by the illustrations, not caring for the text, laying down on her stomach, and sitting up on her elbows as she slowly flips through the pages, her eyes wide as she points out everything she sees to you. You rub her back, nodding along, you’re mostly just happy that she’s excited. 

She kicks her feet as she explains the big red bird on the page to you. After a few more minutes of her babbling she turns the page again.

Jabberwocky 

She giggles wildly as she points at the page and suddenly you’re filled with dread all over again. She’s positively captivated by the drawing, refusing to turn to a different page when you urge her to move on.

You don’t speak again until Maria comes upstairs to check on her, when you do it’s to tell her you aren’t feeling well, and you’re going home.

You’re going on a monster hunt. 

There’s nothing left to do. You need to soothe your fears before you lose it completely and you aren’t going to stare at the trees and wonder for the rest of your life. 

You stop at one of the tourist traps in town, you need supplies for tonight. 

A camera. 

It’s an easy in and out stop. You buy a polaroid camera, and several packs of film. 

No one will believe you otherwise, you’ll be ridiculed the same way they did Darlene. You think of her as you walk back home, what if she was right about everything? She spent her life in fear of a monster no one believed in and they mocked her for it, and at the end of the day she might have been right. 

Maybe the monster is real and it isn’t Joel. 

Either way you’re going into the woods tonight. Your backpack is packed with the essentials, your water bottle, camera, an extra film pack, one of the knives from the kitchen (wrapped in a towel,) and a flashlight. 

Once you’re packed you put your boots and jacket on and head out. 

It’s like everything quiets down the moment you step outside. The forest hums, beckoning you in, and how could you refuse such an offer? 

You manage to keep your hands steady as you flip the switch on your flashlight, stepping into the trees. It feels so much colder now than it did when you were walking home. 

With dusk settling the sun is no longer there to keep you warm or to guide your way. You haven’t actually seen much of the forest, so you decide to walk in a straight line to avoid getting lost as you carefully step over a tangle of roots. As a child you loved nothing more than playing in the woods behind your house. But after just half an hour in these woods you suddenly resent the trees, they no longer bring you any comfort as you carry on into the cold dark night. You’re just about to give up and turn back around when suddenly something changes.  

Without warning and with seemingly no cause you feel a chill rush through your body, your hair standing on end. Your blood runs cold and you hear a sound you’re all too familiar with at this point. 

The tearing sound rips through the air. 

Your instincts tell you that you’ve become prey rather suddenly in this situation but you can’t turn back now, not when you can prove to yourself that you aren’t losing it. 

As quietly as possible you reach back into your pack, grabbing the camera already loaded with film and holding it in your free hand. The beam coming from your flashlight trembles slightly as you carry on towards the noise. 

It’s louder than it ever was in the dreams. In the dreams it was subdued, almost as if you subconsciously knew that it couldn’t hurt you. As you carry onward you can’t help but wonder if you’re just imagining it at this point. It doesn’t seem to get louder as you walk. It simply fills the air completely, you’re being directed purely by your instincts. You know it’s this way as you move forward a few more steps. 

You scan the trees with your light, seeing nothing out of the ordinary until you finally see it. Your finger instinctively flips off your flashlight. 

You almost didn’t catch it. 

But your legs keep moving and you get closer and closer to the hunched figure. 

It’s hard to describe, like your eyes don’t want to accept what you’re seeing. A voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re getting too close but you can’t seem to stop yourself as you carry on until you can get a good look at it. 

You can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as you realize it isn’t Joel. But that relief only lasts a moment as you see what you’re actually dealing with. 

You aren’t sure how big it is. It’s big. That much is clear but it’s crouched down, it’s almost human, it may have once been human. You’re having trouble making out most of it in only the moonlight. It’s less broad than the illustrations you’ve seen, almost slim, with how close you are now you can see that it’s eating. 

A buck, one of the biggest ones you’ve ever seen is splayed out across some rocks. It’s stomach has been ripped open. You watch, with morbid fascination as it digs its maw deeper into the gore. 

How curious, it’s wearing clothes. Or at least the remains of some clothing, a bit of fabric clings to its crooked spine, it wears the tattered collar of a shirt like a necklace. Navy blue sweatpants stretch around the creature's waist, the fabric pulled taut, it looks like they make it just past its knees. The elastic around the ankles has snapped. 

The funniest part of all of this is that you feel nothing but fear for the creature. You aren’t disgusted and you certainly don’t hate it. You’re just afraid, so afraid that before you can slap your hand over your mouth you burst into a peal of laughter. 

Fuck. 

It all happens so fast, you aren’t ready in the slightest to be face to face with it and suddenly you are, purely on instinct your hand twitches and with the flash of the camera you get a single moment to stare at it. 

It’s so close to being human.

It’s mouth is too big, a blood soaked tongue falling past a row of jagged, pointed teeth. It’s almost like someone stretched out a person's face like it was made of clay. And it’s male. Intricate branching horns stretch out from under the hair crowning its head. 

“The doe’s don’t have antlers.”

Your dad was a hunter, you know your antlers,  you aren’t exactly sure but if it was a deer it would be a thirteen pointer. You should run, you’re about to but then you finally look it in the eye, just as the final remnants of the camera flash flicker out. 

There is something worse than hunger, or thirst, or rage in its eyes, if that was all there was you could scream or cry. But this leaves you frozen in place. 

Recognition. 

Like it knows you. 

And the moment it recognizes you it snarls, an ear-piercing sound that rips through the quiet of the forest, blood spewing from its maw at you, flecks of crimson tint your clothes and hands as your eyes go wide.

It’s a good thing your legs move faster than your brain, you’re already sprinting away from the creature. 

You lose your flashlight almost immediately but you know where you’re going, you couldn’t be more thankful for your decision to go in a straight line. You don’t stop moving, running blindly back the way you came, never once daring to look behind you. 

You know it’s there, you can hear it, and you can feel it. 

Its breath is hot on your heels, you can hear the branches splintering directly behind you. Everything is a blur, stray branches sting your exposed skin but you don’t stop, you can’t, your muscles ache as you push onward, keeping your hands out in front of you to guide you through the darkness until you finally see the road up ahead. 

You’re nearly there, almost feeling relief, almost. 

An icy hand wraps around your ankle, you’re yanked backwards before you can process what’s going on, your back dragging across the forest floor and in an instant you’re beneath it. 

This is it. 

You wanted a monster, you got one. And now you’re going to die for it. It snarls as its maw falls open, you’re face to face with a row of shimmering, gore smeared teeth. This is it. 

He smells like cinnamon. 

It tilts its head ninety degrees, its jaw closing in on your throat as you close your eyes, tears now flow freely down your face and finally you can’t contain your terror anymore. 

You scream. 

A trembling shriek falling from your lips and much to your confusion a killing blow never comes. After one more shuddering breath you open your eyes only to find you’re just staring up at the trees. You sit up, still out of breath. 

He’s a few feet away now. 

Thrashing around frantically as he stumbles backwards. As if your scream had upset him. He bellows, his twisted hands clutching his skull like he’s angry with himself. You cover your ears instinctively when it snarls in pain.

He can’t help it. 

You’re scrambling to your feet once more, giving him one final glance, you look into each other's eyes.

“Run.” 

It speaks. 

You break into a sprint once more, not daring to stop until your feet touch pavement. You don’t get the sense that you’re being followed anymore but you’re still in shambles. The adrenaline is slowly starting to fizzle out and you’re painfully aware of the wound you sustained during that encounter. Your ankle is torn up, two deep gashes from where it grabbed you are bleeding an alarming amount. You stumble, the sight of it making you nauseous. 

You get a moment's respite and you manage to compose yourself enough to retrieve your phone from your pocket. Walking backwards, keeping your eyes on the forest as you slowly continue to back away. In your desperation your blood stained fingertips frantically swipe across your phone screen, you don’t realize until it’s too late that you’re calling the only person who isn’t going to answer. 

Yet when you bring the phone to your ear you hear a click. 

“Joel?” You can’t fucking believe it. He actually picked up. 

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?” He can definitely hear the panic in your voice. 

You just break down.

“I’m by the road, on the way from Maria’s to my camper, I- I need you to come get me, please, it’s- it’s following me, but I think I lost it please, Joel.” You’re in hysterics as you catch a glimpse of one of the few streetlights down the road. You hear the sound of keys and you swear you hear Maria saying something in the background but you’re too frenzied to focus on that. 

“Who’s following you? Stay right there m’on my way.” You can hear the truck starting in the background as you keep running, not daring to stop even though it doesn’t feel like you’re being pursued anymore. 

“The monster… in the woods… it’s not a bear Joel.” You’re out of breath when you finally stop, standing in the middle of the road underneath the street lamp, spinning around to try and somehow keep an eye on all of the darkness around you. 

“Stay where you are, I’ll be there in two minutes, okay? Stay right where you are.” You’re about to beg him to hurry when the line goes dead. 

You must look like a mad woman. Standing in the middle of the street, covered in blood, and spinning in circles to try and keep an eye on every single direction as you listen for any signs of movement. 

Your heartbeat never slows, you can hear it pounding in the crushing silence that surrounds you. 

It only takes a few minutes before you see headlights approaching in the distance. You don’t even let the truck come to a full stop as you open the door and jump in, closing it behind you as you scramble towards Joel as if he could protect you from the goliath you saw in the darkness. 

“Drive! Now Joel, go!” You yell as he accelerates just to the point of following the speed limit as he heads towards your camper. 

“Bunny, please, calm down.” He wraps the hand that isn’t on the steering wheel around you but you shove him off, sliding back to the other side of the truck. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Joel, not after what I just went through, I saw it, a real monster grabbed me.” You’re stumbling over your words, trying to get them out as quickly as possible.

“Slow down, just tell me what happened.”

“I told you on the phone, I just found a fucking monster, Joel, that’s what happened.”

He’s gone silent now.

He probably thinks you’re crazy. 

That’s fine. You know you aren’t, you saw it, watched it feed. There’s deer blood on your boots. 

“You didn’t see a monster.” When you look he’s shaking worse than you are. You don’t dare turn your head further but you watch in your peripheral as he grips the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. 

He’s lying. 

Why would he lie? 

“I did, I took a-.” You reach into your bag and your stomach fills with dread as you realize you dropped the camera. 

“You didn’t. You’ve been spending too much time alone, and you shouldn’t be going out in the woods by yourself to begin with.” 

“And who’s fault is it that I’ve been alone?” You snap.

He doesn’t have a response to that. And you don’t have anything else to say, not like he’d believe you if you did. You should probably break up with him, for several reasons. 

Except you can’t. 

If you do, how will you stop people from being needlessly murdered? He may not be the monster, but he knows something, and you need to find out what it is. 

So you’ll ‘forgive’ him. Again. Because you need to get to the bottom of this.

And maybe, despite it all, you’re still terribly attached to him. He keeps disappearing, without warning and with halfhearted excuses as to why and all you can think about right now is how badly you missed him, and how badly you need him.  

“Does Tommy have Ellie tonight?” You mumble, trying not to sound too irritated. 

“I was stopping in to see her before leaving her with Maria for the night when you called.”

“Why?”

“I was gonna come over here and apologize.” He sounds just as sincere as he did last time but you still scoff.

“What’s the excuse this time?” When you turn to scowl at him he looks guilty.

“I was out of town on a work trip.”

“And you couldn’t answer your phone.”

“I forgot my charger at home.”

It’s a preconceived lie. You’re certain of it based on how quick he replies, and it’s not even a good one. He could have borrowed a coworker's phone or bought a new charger; it wouldn't have been difficult. But he doesn’t want you to know where he really was. 

Every bit of this confuses you. 

You saw something in the woods, but it wasn’t Joel? Joel was with Ellie and then he was with you, he couldn’t have been slaughtering lost hikers. It doesn’t make sense. One thing is for certain though, and it’s that you can’t break up with Joel until you know what's going on or more people are going to be killed by that thing you saw in the woods. You aren’t really sure what to call it, but you know that you found the thing that’s been killing. 

And he knows something about it. 

He had no reason to get as rattled as he did if he didn't know something about what you saw. So you can’t break up with him, not until you figure this all out. Until then you just have to play the part of a clueless, loving girlfriend. Which shouldn’t be too hard considering the fact that for some reason there is still a sick and twisted attraction to him despite everything you know, settling in your stomach. You bite your tongue, going the rest of the short drive in silence. When he finally pulls up to the camper the engine goes quiet as he turns the key. You had no intention of inviting him in but you won’t stop him if he follows. 

You slam the truck door shut, stomping up to the door, his footsteps following close behind. 

“Let’s talk about this.” He reaches for your arm as you’re unlocking the door but you just shove him off. You leave it open, kicking your shoes off as you slip out of your jacket as you flip on the lights. 

“I don’t want to talk.” He shuts the door behind him, you note that he locks it behind him. 

How presumptuous. 

Correct, but presumptuous. 

“You’re clearly upset, bunny.” He kneels down, untying his own boots before kicking them off. You glare down at him until he stands, trying to pull you into his arms but you just shove him away again. His eyes go wide as he takes you in.

Based on his reaction you really must be quite a sight. 

“Jesus, you’re a mess.” He looks genuinely concerned but you brush it off. 

“Thanks.” You scoff but when you look down you realize you’ve been leaving a trail of blood in your wake. 

“Do you have a first aid kit?” You should send him away. Tend to yourself and go to bed, but instead you just point to the cabinet containing the kit, sitting on the table as he retrieves it, tossing it down beside you. He doesn’t ask what happened, grimacing as he lifts your leg to examine your ankle.

He doesn’t need to ask, he knows what happened. 

He tends to your wounds in silence. You wince as he wipes the lacerations on your ankle, they look bad enough that you consider just going to the hospital but he doesn’t seem too worried. They’re just shallow enough that you don’t think you’ll need stitches. 

You don’t watch as he sprays it with antiseptic, quickly wrapping it in a layer of gauze and then bandages. 

When he’s finished you’re ready to get angry with him all over again but the moment you open your mouth to yell at him he grabs you by the chin, taking a clean piece of gauze and gently dabbing the thin cuts that litter your face. 

You stare up at the ceiling light, refusing to meet his gaze. 

He tends to every one of them, taking extra care as he smears ointment on each one. When he’s finished he takes anything bloodied and gathers it in his hand, standing to toss them into the bin under the sink. You don’t turn, but out of the corner of your eye you see him bring his hand to his mouth. 

Your blood.

He tasted your blood. 

You can feel the bile rising in your throat but you just swallow it back down. 

“Now we can talk.” He makes his way back over to you but you just shake your head. 

“I already told you, I don’t wanna talk.” 

“Bunny-” He takes another step towards you. 

“Shut up.” 

“Don’t be like that.” There’s real remorse in his eyes, you might even feel bad if you didn’t know that he was lying to you. 

“Shut. Up.” You push him so he stumbles back onto the bed. “I’m not crazy.” He props himself up on his elbows to look at you as you say it.

“I know.” He sounds almost apologetic. 

“Take your clothes off.” You mumble, already tossing your shirt to the side. 

“Are you sure?” 

You’re sure that he knows what’s out there in the woods and he isn’t telling you. 

“I am.” You kick your jeans off to emphasize your point. You know he won’t deny you this. Whatever sick, unexplainable force pulls you into his arms affects him as it does you. You don’t just want him, you need him. 

You hadn’t realized it until he’d disappeared again, but now you couldn’t be more aware. It’s as if your entire life you’ve felt wrong. You’ve been in a state of discomfort for as long as you can remember, like a vital part of you was missing. But you got used to it, and you learned to live with the odd sensation of never feeling like you're in the right place, nowhere ever felt like home. 

Joel feels like home, in a sort of twisted way. 

From the moment you first saw him everything cleared up. It was like you had finally found your center of balance, and when he disappeared he took all of that with him. 

This is more than just attraction. 

With that he tugs his flannel off, you grab the bottom of his shirt, impatiently pulling it up over his head, not wanting to look him in the eyes, you stare at his shoulders as you climb up onto the bed, straddling his lap. 

“I really think we should talk-” He starts again so you reach behind yourself, unclasping your bra, glaring at him as you let it drop.

“Then talk.” 

He looks at you like you’re something to eat. 

“That’s not fair.” He finally manages to pull his gaze off of your chest, looking you in the eyes, his pupils swallowing his irises leaving you to stare into the darkness of his eyes.  

“There’s nothing to talk about, you went away for work and you forgot your phone charger.” You reach between the two of you to remove his belt, tossing it behind him on the bed before trying to unzip his jeans. “It was just an unfortunate series of circumstances.” You grumble before lifting yourself off his lap so he can shove his jeans off.

He’s glaring at you now. Good. He should know that you’re challenging him. Everything from this point on is a game, you just have to catch him in a lie. You grind down against the straining fabric of his boxers, hands on his shoulders to balance yourself as you rub yourself against his clothed erection, drawing a hiss from between his teeth. Before you know it his hands are gripping the hem of your panties. 

“Go on Joel, rip them off. I know you’re plenty capable.” You say it like the accusation it is. He’s strong enough to do a lot of things, you aren’t sure if tearing a person in half is one of those things but you’re determined to find out. He knows what you’re implying but he does it anyway, grabbing the fabric on either side of your hips and easily tearing them to shreds. 

“You don’t know what you do to me.” He murmurs, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours. 

You do. 

He does the same to you. A carnal desire, your most basic human instincts are reduced to nothing the moment your skin is against his. 

You don’t waste any time, slipping your hand under the waistband of his underwear, watching his cock spring free, slapping against his stomach. You unceremoniously spit in your hand before taking him in your fist, watching his jaw go slack as you rake your nails against the underside of his cock, feeling him twitch in your hand. You keep your eyes trained on his face as you notch him at your entrance, tilting your head to the side as you hesitate. 

The veins in his neck jut out as you slide the head of his cock over your clit, hissing softly as you do. 

He’s purposefully showing restraint. 

He clutches the sheets, his knuckles go pale and you can’t help but wonder if he isn’t touching you because he’s worried he’ll hurt you. 

“Fuck me, Joel.” You lean forward, biting his stupidly plush bottom lip. He doesn’t move his hands from where they are and you can’t help but scowl against his mouth.   

He’s holding back. 

He knows exactly what you’re doing and he’s trying to prove you wrong. How long has he been holding back?

In one sharp motion you slide down on his cock, forcing an obscene moan out of yourself, but it isn’t loud enough to cover the ripping sound. Your eyes wander downward, his are rolled back but all you can focus on now is your torn bed sheets in his clenched fist. 

Holy hell.

“Fuck. Me.” You rasp out, lifting your hips again before dropping them back down. His head falls forward this time, his mouth latching onto your shoulder, muffling his growl.

You know that growl. 

“Fuck me or leave, Joel.” You take his face in your hand, roughly pulling him back so he’s eye to eye with you.

You heard that growl in the woods less than an hour ago. 

“You’re playing with fire, bunny.” He glares at you but you just stare right back. 

“I won’t say it again.” You give him one last warning and he finally brings his hands to your hips, with a grunt he lifts you up, slamming you back down on his cock, you can feel him brushing against your cervix as you cry out. 

At his age he shouldn’t be able to do that. 

He does it again, moving you like a ragdoll up and down on his length, a lewd squelching fills the air, egging him on. He tilts his head down, his teeth scrape against your breast, and you can hear a roar building in his throat. He fucks you like a fleshlight, moving you effortlessly up and down on his cock, your chest bouncing with each thrust.

He shouldn’t be able to do any of this.

Neither one of you speaks, you can feel the camper swaying ever so slightly as he slams into you, thrusting his hips up to meet yours as he pulls you down onto him. 

He makes it look effortless. 

Another growl rips through the air and you know neither one of you is gonna last long if he keeps going at this pace. He hammers into your sensitive spots with every thrust, your clit rubbing against the dark curls along his pelvis.

He’s merciless with the force at which he moves you, he’s started nipping at your shoulder and you know he’s close as they get harder and harder. You finally feel him break the skin and just like that he’s lifting you off of him, his mouth clamped down on your flesh, you feel his cum between your legs as he finishes on your folds. The sensation of him slipping out of you sends you over the edge right along with him, your stomach tightening as you groan, letting your head fall forward onto him.

You feel better already. 

Not good, just better. 

He manages to keep you both upright for a few more moments before collapsing down on the mattress with you in his arms. 

And then it’s just quiet.

Until the mattress squeaks as you get up. Wiping yourself off with a towel and turning the lights off before returning to bed without a word. He’s the one who finally breaks the silence.  

“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

 “You can stay.” You mumble, rolling over to face away from him. 

It’s better if you know where he is. 

That’s what you tell yourself. 

It’s easier to swallow that excuse than the truth, that you can’t shake the terror from your encounter with the creature and now amount of fucking is going to change that. You don’t want to be alone, no matter how angry you are. He doesn’t seem to take the hint though, snaking his arm under yours and pulling you to his chest. 

You start to push him away but you feel a wave of calm wash over you when he does so you just settle back against him. You close your eyes, praying sleep might come but all you see in the darkness is that open maw closing in on you. 

You know that growl. 

It isn’t Joel. It can’t be Joel, he was with Ellie and then he was with you. 

It wasn’t Joel.

You’re more than used to waking up in the woods at this point. Monsters and men torment you in your dreams whenever they get the chance to. 

But tonight is different. 

You don’t feel the cold, wetness of the forest floor on your back before you open your eyes. Instead you only feel steel, you make an attempt to sit up on instinct but you can’t. In a panic you open your eyes to find yourself cuffed to the cadaver carrier from Marias basement. 

This can’t be happening. 

This is the kind of dream you get after your first body. 

You’ve had this dream, years ago when you’d just started studying mortuary sciences. Although now it feels worse, more ominous than it had previously. 

That probably has to do with the fact that you can’t move. 

In response to that petrifying thought you begin to uselessly tug on the cuffs, your ankles and wrists attached to the cold unforgiving steel of the table you’ve sewn countless bodies back together on. 

You don’t strap cadavers down, there’s no need to. 

The door swings open and you’re thankfully able to sit up enough to watch Maria and Joel walk in, solemn looks on both of their faces. 

You open your mouth to call for help but something stops you.

No.

No, no, no.

Your jaw is wired shut. 

The sudden realization makes you gag as you shake the table with the force of your panic. 

Maria is always thorough, your mouth is full of cotton.

They act as if you’re as lifeless as any other corpse as they stand beside you, despite your muffled screaming, tears immediately flowing from your eyes as you feel your throat constrict around the cotton.  

“What happened to her?” He sounds so far gone even though he only stands a few feet away. 

“You know what happened to her.” Marias sorrow turns to a look of resentment as she turns to Joel. 

“Bear attack.” He says it more to himself than to her. 

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“You never do.” Her voice is full of a hatred you haven’t ever heard in reality. 

She looks at you with a pity you’ve had on your own face before. It’s the same look you give every corpse on a table.  

You follow Maria’s gaze down at your body and find your chest sliced open, the inside dry. 

And then you wake up. 

Of course Joel is there when you sit up in bed with a strangled cry, a fresh flood of tears falling down your face. 

“Bunny?” His groggy, sleep ridden voice resembles a growl, sending you backwards away from him, your back hitting where the mattress meets the camper wall. He’s already up, he moves towards you but the moment you flinch away from he stops. “Are you okay? What hap-“

“Don’t come any closer.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Thankfully he doesn’t move towards you, he holds his hands up ever so slowly. He’s acting like you’re a cornered animal. 

You can’t seem to find your voice. Every single logical and rational part of your body and mind tell you to get as far away from him as possible. To fight tooth and nail to get past him, to run away and never look back. You’d never get away with that though, he’s too deeply rooted in you already. He’s made for you. Sculpted by the gods to be everything you’ve ever wanted all in one neat little salt and pepper package, served up to you on a silver platter.  

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He inches forward a bit but the way you pull your legs up against your chest, trying to make yourself smaller makes him move back. “It’s okay, it’s just me.” 

Yeah Joel, that's the problem.  

a/n : i have such mixed feeling abt this chap but whatever i really like it so ?? idk

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

[archie-sunshine]

ARCHIE-SUNSHINE'S FAQ!

Hi!! I'm putting this together as a quick helpful post to clear stuff up regarding my inbox, because I've been getting a lot of similar questions and I want to be able to tap a sign to let people know what they gotta know without putting in so much effort!

So, here's my FAQ for my inbox!

1: What drawing software/hardware do you use? Are you a traditional only artist?

I use clip studio paint and an ancient wacom tablet that's been chugging since 2018 :] And I also do traditional art, specifically as a way to pass the time in my college classes! my preferred drawing pens are a the 0.5 POLOP Fruits Clip, the Tombow Fudenosuke Brush pen, and the Pigma MICRON Plastic Nib, and i colour with ZEBRA mildliner highlighters!

2: Is your Inbox getting my message?

Yes it is! I just usually have around 100 other asks in my inbox that im also working through!! If your ask was super nonspecific as well, I might have deleted it because I didn't know where to start!

3. Are you taking commissions?

I open commissions typically once a month to once every other month!

4. What are your thoughts on [Insert TFP character here]/why don't you like tfp

I don't have any because I only watched half a season of that show and got bored to death! and i dislike the show because the pacing is weird, the writing is sub par, the characters bore me to death save for a few notable exceptions, the music is boring, the designs are weird and complicated, and every attempt at comedy falls flat. aka, its just not my cup of tea!

Additionally, over the year I've been posting on this blog, I have been asked at least once every single month for an answer to this question, and it hasn't changed and people still don't read my faq. and suspiciously after three of those times, my blog has been mysteriously pixelated.

... I'm not saying anyone reported me. But im not not saying that.

So thats another reason i don't like tfp.

5. Will you draw/What are your thoughts on MPREG/MECHPREG

I don't like pregnancy when it involves a fetus, though I do enjoy dirty talk and scenarios surrounding breeding! I do enjoy oviposition/egg laying, but I prefer it as part of a monster fucking scenario.

6. What would you think [insert character/pairing here]'s kids would look like/what would [insert character] look like as a kid/do you think [insert couple here] would be great parents?

I don't like talking about kids or children!! and I don't like talking about couples as parents in general!

7. Can i make fanworks of your ocs/AU/fics/art?

YES!! YESYESYES ABSOLUTELY PRETTY PLEASE YES ALWAYS AND FOREVER! All i ask is that you tag me or send me the link to wherever youve posted this, feel free to gift me stuff on ao3 if you like as well, genuinely nothing brings me more joy than inspiring other people so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE feel free!!

8. What are your limits for commissions?

I drew up a helpful little chart for it! anything not on here, you can dm or ask me about!

[simpforboywonder]

Is it tooo much to ask for reader to not have such a strong personality 🤨. SHES NOT MEEEEE if she’s doing a wholeeeee bunch of things I would never do. If the author had put “Original character” in the tags or told us guys I’m writing a self-insert or making a character. HOW MANY TIMES DO YOU HAVE TO DESCRIBE THIS SKINNY WHITE GIRL JUST TO TELL US IN THE COMMENTS THAT YOU TRUED TO MAKE IT NONDESCRIPT. Bc I hate to break it to you dear author. YOU FAILEDDD. And it would’ve succeeded if you said this was notttt a reader insert. I’m sorry guys I’m just genuinely tiredddd. We are reading reader-inserts because we want to put ourselvessss inside like come awnnnn now🤨. I have to do sooooo much mental brain work as of late having to compartmentalize every new character trait that the author has now appointed me. Alsoooo on that note NOT EVERY FAT GIRL IS INSECURE AND SELF- CONSCIOUS. Anyone and everyone can be insecure but why does EVERYYYYYY fat reader have to be insecure and just start dumping hate on their bodies. I would never hate on myself the way these authors be acting like we do and honestly THAAAAATS triggering. Imagine it’s 2 am, you thought you found this great chubby reader fanfic BUT NOOOOO the first 1k (out of 3k or something mind you😒) it’ll just be a whole bunch of degradation like ewwwww I’m not going from having my body randomly degraded and then some man having to convince me that I’m beautiful to sex is NOTTTTT THE VIBEEEEE. I love myself and every extra pound on me. And you know what I haaaate even more is when I point out that this is weirddddd and odd somebody pipes up with “then go write it yourself”. Skinny girls don’t have to go write it themselves yet the average size of an American woman is between 16-18. THAT IS NOTTTT A SKINNY WOMAN. At some point we gotta start being serious because anythingggg can be a book these days. Literally we got cow-fucking, monster and aliens and all that stuff YET I CANT GET A PLUS SIZE MC IN ANYTHINGGGGG. And if I dooooo it’s just a whole bunch of hatred, insecurity, and degradation the whoooole time. Bc we knowwww it isn’t a book with a fat MC without them being randomly bullied for their weight at least ONCE.

[starmonsterrr]

✦ INTRO POST - STILL IN BUILDING

[ * IDENTITY ]

[ * I am also non-human, though I recognize that (to my dismay) I have the body of one. (No shade to physical nonhumans of any type though!!! You creatures are awesome!!!!) ]

[ * Who am I? Call me Io! Or Aurum... Or Eureka... Whichever works :P ]

[ * My pronouns are it/its and I identify as stargender! ]

[ * Further elaborating, I'm otherkin (dragon), therian (silver fox), and fictionkin (well... OCkin. And it's Io! info post link here). ]

[ * I also happen to be the host of what very likely seems to be a system, though luckily for me a small one ]

[ * The known members are me, Atramentum (an Ink!Sans fictive, y'all may know them from @inktroject) and K, which seems to be aggressive and rarely takes front ]

[ * I'm in front most of the time, with Atty (short for Atramentum) somewhat frequently sliding in as well, and when he's not in control they're usually co-conscious. ]

[ * WHAT I DO ]

[ * The main thing you'll see is drawings. Many drawings. I enjoy drawing a lot! I have been drawing ever since I have memory. I also occasionally compose music and write, but I have yet to post any of that in this blog... ]

[ * And I also animate! Because of the effort it takes, it is quite rare to see me posting animations. But I still do it! I have a YouTube channel dedicated to it, in fact. You can find some of my animations there. ]

[ * FANDOMS ]

[ * My primary fandom is the UTMV and has been for three years as of 29/07/2024! As such this blog is near entirely centered on it. I may occasionally reblog stuff from other fandoms, though I don't see UTMV getting overthrown as my current main interest anytime soon. ]

[ * MISCELLANEOUS ]

[ * I'm Ink's wife and girlfriend (in a non-binary way if that makes any sense) for all eternity (/srs), and I post about that fairly often I think ]

[ * I also enjoy being an astronomical level of cringe... And I refuse to apologize for it. In fact if you dare insult me for it, or for anything really, I will channel the hatred into more cringepower. Cringe culture is dead and I am mauling its corpse :3 (That is an AMAZING quote. Might put it as a blog title eventually) ]

[ * Tags I use (recalling from memory... May miss a few.) ]

#corv reblogs

#corv friend interactions

#corv gets an ask

#corv draws • (usually full drawings)

#corv doodles • (low-quality drawings usually made for silly reasons)

#corv rambles about lore

#corv's io • (posts about Io)

#corv's aurum • (posts about Aurum)

#the starry night (selfship) • (Ink x Io)

#corv doodle request • (doodle requests I draw)

#corv doodle request status • (status updates for when I open and close doodle requests)

#corv & corvpany • (silly plurality stuff)

[ * Stuff I'm working on ]

OuterRenaissance (Undertale AU, Outertale variant) (has an official blog! @outerrenaissance though I gotta actually get started using it.)

Some info on star-born monsters! I think.

[ * Links for things ]

[ * About Io (UTMV self-insert, sona number 1) ]

[ * About Aurum (UTMV meta ""self-insert""??? lives outside UTMV technically but still interacts with it, also sona number 2) (NEEDS MAJOR-ISH DESIGN UPDATE) ]

[ * About Therian!Ink ]

[ * My Youtube channel ]

[ * Cool looking badges/user boxes!!!!! ]

[ * And lastly... ]

[ * BEFORE YOU INTERACT / DNI ]

[ * originally this was a list but ehhhh ]

[ * just pls don't harass people... And don't drag me into any kind of discourse (Yup that includes shipcourse)...... Also don't be a bigot ]

(regarding shipcourse, if you THAT badly need to know, I think there's some heavy case-by-case nuance. Not everyone processes dark fiction well, but those who do I have no problem with them engaging with it however they want)

[ * AI image generators can go to the ninth circle of hell though ]

[ * I'm too tired on a daily basis to go around checking everyone's DNIs so wahhhh ]

[ * That's pretty much it! Have a nice day! ]

[twig-tea]

Get To Know Me Tag

Tagged by @telomeke @lurkingshan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle and @hyeoni-comb thank you all! 💕

Do you make your bed?

I like a messy bed, it feels more welcoming to me somehow. The only time I make my bed is when I'm without heat and it's winter, then you gotta do it to keep in any residual warmth! But normally I'd rather keep everything loose.

What’s your favorite number?

I....don't think I have one? Is this a thing people have, how do you choose?

What is your job?

I manage a team of Product Owners in the Operations division of a multinational company. In other words, I go to a lot of meetings.

If you could go back to school, would you?

Absolutely not. Beyond the fact that I was formerly a substantive editor of university textbooks, which included both editing the textbook content and sometimes writing their ancillaries (tests, powerpoint slides, etc.) so it feels like I took first-year Sociology at least ten times, I just don't love formalized education. I love learning but on my own terms and at my own pace.

Can you parallel park?

I can't drive at all! Technically I learned how, took lessons and everything, but never got my license.

A job you had that would surprise people?

Hmm. I was a call center person for half a day, it was terrible and I left without getting paid for the work I did because I was so eager to get out of there I didn't want to fight them for my pay (even though I needed the money which is why I was there in the first place). I hate phone calls, I can't hear well on the phone, and it was clear the call center script was designed to be exploitative. It was one of the worst jobs for me I could have taken lol

Do you think aliens are real?

I think it's extremely likely!

Can you drive a manual car?

Nope, even when I learned, it was only on an automatic.

What’s your guilty pleasure?

I'm not guilty about it but I can decimate an entire family size mac and cheese when I'm feeling down.

Tattoos?

I have 3 tattoos; one on each foot and one on the back of my neck. They form a rainbow.

Favorite color?

Blue-green! The shade of preference for any given moment varies, but anything in the region from mint to aqua to teal to turquoise will do; I love them all.

Favorite type of music?

My music taste varies widely but the common denominators are 1) fast tempo or upbeat, 2) solid harmonies, and 3) if there's a tempo or key change I am doubly sold.

Do you like puzzles?

Love puzzles of all kinds. I have a collection of jigsaw puzzles I do regularly, and word puzzles, logic puzzles, sudoku type stuff is all very fun. I don't make a lot of time for them but I do them occasionally and always enjoy it.

Any phobias?

I am afraid of falling. Not heights, but falling. The difference is: I can lean over the railing at the top of a 20-storey building or walk on a glass floor over a big drop and just feel a minor thrill, but am terrified to the point of maybe crying if I have to balance on a single step of a ladder or walk across a patch of ice. I had several brushes with death related to falling when I was a kid, and a few bad falls that caused injury as an adult, so it makes sense. Luckily I am pretty tall so I rarely have to do any kind of ladder-ing!

Favorite childhood sport?

American-style tackle football. We used to play at lunch on the pavement because the soccer kids got the field; we played in all seasons including snow, and we did it for love of the sport. I loved it a lot.

Do you talk to yourself?

Occasionally I'll provide a little commentary on what's happening aloud to myself; but I don't really have fully conversations.

What movies do you adore?

I have loved a lot of movies in my time! A few random ones that come to mind right now because I've been thinking about them for whatever reason are Saving Face (2004), Monster (2023), Practical Magic (1998), Moonlight (2016), and Clue (1985).

Coffee or tea?

Despite my username being a type of tea, in this as in all things I am a perfect Kinsey 3. Love both equally and drink a ton of both (coffee more regularly, tea in greater volume).

First thing you wanted to be growing up?

Lifeguard, I think! And then when I was in elementary school I wanted to edit textbooks (I was that kid who got annoyed whenever there were mistakes), so I did actually get to do my childhood dream job.

No pressure tags just going with vibes based on who I've interacted with recently (if you've done this already tag me in the comments!): @rocketturtle4 @visualtaehyun @sollucets @troubled-mind @jimmysea @ginnymoonbeam

[enden-agolor]

Hi, I read through recovery and left a comment on chapter 21, I was just going to make this another comment but I thought that I would send an ask instead.

Anyways I love recovery so much and it's really inspired me to try writing fics and drawing fanart again.

MCSM is such a tiny fandom (at least on AO3) and I've noticed that it's severely lacking in the sickfic department, so I thought I would write one myself? And I would like give you a sneak peek on the plot!

Basically while the group is traveling through the portal network Jesse gets sick (and eventually injured cause that boy is stubborn as hell) and the group, but especially Lukas, (you think I'm going to write a sickfic and not make it Jeskas?!) gotta take care of him while hiding in a cave and dealing with monsters and stuff until he gets better and they find the portal back to the hallway.

Random plot point ideas:

They find an abandoned village

Ivor makes Jesse suspicious stew using dandelions and daisies (for the health benefits)

Jesse being delirious which leads to angst and hurt/comfort

General pre-relationship Jeskas stuff (no confessions in this fic but they love each other and that's what matters)

That's all I've got for now, just wanna say I love your art and writing so much, it's so beautiful and cute and inspiring and I love it! Bye!

<:O Dude????

Firstly, I saw your comment on the fic and am so happy you liked it!! I absolutely love seeing peoples comments about my writing, it feels extremely reassuring reading those. Seriously it was so nice 🫶 Nothing makes me happier than people enjoying my writing, let alone inspiring you to create your own? I'm honored, and from what you've mentioned here I am so excited to see what you do. I totally agree the tag is lacking in sick fics, which is shocking given how loved that trope is.

From the ideas you've been kindly willing to share here, I can say I know I'm going to love it already. A portal arc sick fic sounds too good to be true?? Jesse being the one getting sick and Lukas taking care of him slfnglndkngks I am very normal about that. I love caretaker Lukas 🥺 Also Ivor content?? 🤲 Yes please. Also I'm so crazy about pre-relationship fluff where it's obvious the have feelings for each other but they aren't quite there yet to confess it uUUGHH. Anyways. Yes. I am very much looking forward to this!!! 😍 Please keep me updated on how it's going!

[littleshopofchaos]

Writeblr Interview Tag!

Thank you to @dearunreliablenarrator for the tag

I tag @waltzshouldbewriting @violetcancerian @watermeezer @cherrybombfangirlwrites and anyone who wants to do this

Short stories, novels, or poems?

All of them. Its fun and good to practise having a variety

What genre do you prefer reading?

I love fantasy as my main, but my second favourite is crime/ true crime and things like Agatha Christie

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

Both. I like to have a variety so I can get stuff done and not stress about some fun projects whilst outlining the serious ones that need a lot of work

What music do you listen to while writing?

Mostly musicals, right now its Wait For Me/Reprise from Hadestown, and then there's things like Linkin Park New Divide and Numb

Favorite books/movies?

Favourite books: Any Agatha Christie, Skulduggery Pleasant or A Good Girls Guide To Murder the trilogy

Favourite movies: Lilo and Stitch, Monsters Inc, Pirates of the Carribbean, Inside Out 1 and 2, Shrek 1 and 2

Any current WIPs?

Keep The Peace is part of my series Amongst The Chaos, an adult fantasy slice-of-life supernatural series where its a bunch of characters living in the city of Nottingham, and meeting up at various places to get together and talk about events that have happened in their lives as they live amongst the supernatural - e.g Angels. Demons, Ghosts and the like and their reactions to the chaos.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

jogging bottoms and a lilo and stitch t-shirt or a game of thrones t-shirt, stich trainers, a stitch handbag and a sunflower lanyard.

Create a character description of yourself: 

Fat non-binary person really into eating and crafting and loves to dye hair different colours, cannot see for shit without glasses and cannot drive.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Yes and no. All my characters are original, but sometimes my mother will suggest 'oh, write about our family, your nephews, the cats' ect and to be honest with you, ive never figured out how to fit them in, so i dont.

Are you kill happy with your characters?

Oh yeah, absolutely. I will kill whoever I want to, whenever I want to. I'm not afraid to get violent with the deaths, but I gotta do it justice

Coffee or Tea while writing?

Tea, Hot Chocolate or different juices, depending what's in my reach and i'm interested in.

Slow or fast writer?

It depends on how motivated i am, when im not in writers block i can write 2k within like 2 hours

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

Everything - the books i read, the games i play, the music i listen to.Bad writing pisses me off real bad and I know I can do better

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

A librarian or writer completely done wih the city being destroyed by the supernatural but being really intrigued and trying not to die.

Most fav book cliche:

I cannot answer.

Least favorite cliche:

curing disabilities. like fuck off with that shit, give them their aids back and we dont need to cure autism, we're fine the way we are

Favorite scene to write?

all of them, i just cannot pick one thing i love. Its just... the whole process of writing that I love and I wouldn't change it fot the world

Reason for writing?

Because its a part of what makes me, me and i wouldnt have it any other way. I am a writer, its in my blood. I enjoy the creation, the creativity, the uniqueness of my own voice

[sethdomain]

want my shipping takes that ill still probably get hanged for??? here we go. theyre basically all "everyone chill out" ...it seems like most people are just submitting ships theyd get cancelled for, not takes on shipping. ill do that after in case i completely misread what you were asking for

if ccbeeduo didnt want to get shipped they shouldnt have made their characters get married and have a son and fall in love. natural byproduct, really shouldve expected it. i still think ppl should have chilled fr but like, they both had plenty of examples of what fans were like, they shouldve taken that into account before making those character decisions.

cdapduo discourse was absolutely batshit insane and everyone who posted with a banner saying either "slime is quackity's son and if you ship them you're weird DNI" OR "they keep flirting, if you call slime quackity's son you're weird DNI" pissed me off. how about no one's weird because actually its a roleplay with lots of different perspectives and you can do whatever you want forever . obvs i understood people who were like "i believe this thing, dont fucking yell at me for it" but it sucks that people had to make banners for that fr.

in the same vein, the discourse with emeraldduo. though that one i dont/didnt see as much, i did still see those same banners. even as a family sbi fan, i never saw someone shipping emduo and thought "yeah let me go yell at them and tell them not to interact with me because i personally think theyre family-coded." the devotion is ambiguous but powerful.

Heat Waves was the funniest fic ive ever read because idgaf about either of those guys so it was just like 20 chapters of some guy crying and jacking off and then getting rejected.

i think rarepairs are based as fuck and mischaracterizing guys to fit your ship is fine do whatever you want forever!!!!!!!! people complained to hell and back about fanfics tagging characters and ships and them being ooc . WHO GIVE A FUCK THEY WROTE THAT SHIT FOR FREEEEEEEEE!!!!!! ALSO MANGOBALL'S MONSTER/CHEATER CHEATER WAS A MASTERPIECE

karlnapity was not perfect polyamory i see people glossing over the fact that when they first talked about polyamory quackity started attacking and biting when karl and sapnap kissed and thats fucking FUNNY i want to see more of THAT.

sorry for writing so much i have a lot of opinions

JESUS ANON, honestly idgaf bro i take any spicy opinion as long as its not going straight to 'i love pedophilia/incest' territory that my only rule man

For beeduo, idk if u mean the cc ship or the c ship cause honest to god i was a huge inniter back then and dont follow their stuff closelt that much, but im just gonna assume u mean the rpf cc shipping. Honestly, I don't really agree with ur take, its a bit victim blamey, both ranboo and tubbo were like young and in their naivety expect their fans to uphold their boundary to just not ship them in a rpf way and i think you should've respected their wishes man. You sometimes gotta be reminded that dsmp was just them guys having fun and if they want to rp as a husband then whatev man :p

I agree bruh, i think people were just sscared of a little doomed faggot in action

phil and techno doesn't even act like father/son in the dsmp canon anyway, they act like old bestie

imma be fr idgaf abt heatwaves but that sound awesome

sometime the back of my mind say that, but the evil demon that wants everything to be perfect take over anon.. its hard... I need to get mad at people...

no cucking is allowed in karlnapity... #lame

[gethoce]

Hey uh, how does it feel to be that much of a great artist? Like, genuinely, you're so... Like, amazing what you do here, your art? Top Notch, the character designs are so unique, but they all feel like they have a soul, in the best way possible. All intrinsical shapes and sizes, motivations, color palletes, everything is so good. The writing? Stellar, basing your matters on actual folklore, history and mythology is genuinely so great. Your reinterpretations of Canon characters? Incredible, Metamorpho isn't really something I ship yet you somehow made me enjoy it when you draw it yourself, as well as things like Sir Arthur and Specially Morpho give me joy.

Your art is such an inspiration... You inspired me to make my own stuff! Even if I sometimes am jealous of it fjdjdj, like what you do is so good that it makes me a little bit angry, in the best way possible.

George coming in strong once again to boost my confidence. Your comments are very much appreciated and highly valued. Every artist longs for motivational boosts like this. I am flattered, to say the least and delighted to hear that I have inspired you!! eje6e5f2uf

That being said, how does it feel? I’m in constant fear of failure. I could probably easily list like 20 artists I wished I could be more like without even leaving Kirblr. If you ever wonder whether I too feel insecure about my art the answer is yes. I've been trying to find something to work on that the community enjoys in greater numbers for almost a year and failed time and time again. But we keep on going all the same :galathumb:

Anyway, on a brighter note, Metamorpho! Or how I like to call it Morphometa because the Metamorpho tag is terrible for finding art of them which might contribute to the low popularity of the ship. As a matter of fact, it is so unpopular there doesn't even appear to be a ship name to borrow from the Japanese fandom.

What is the appeal for me in this ship? They have chemistry for being warriors of similar moral standing but there gotta be more than that. In the case of my interpretation, spoiler alert, it's the depressed guy and reaper dynamic. One who views himself as a monster that wants to go out as a hero never to be seen as what he is and a one who on surface level is a being of life and light but has hidden flaws that haunt his mind every second of every day. One who sees the good in the other and wishes for him to see the bad in him as opposed to the one who just can't do either. There is a wish to be understood and over time they learn to be just that for each other.

Then Sir Arthur… a terrible person who is trying to become better without ever being held accountable for his action. Someone who thinks he has successfully left his past behind only for potential secrets to be exposed. A man who is willing to switch sides at any second if he sees no way towards redemption anymore. Never turn your back towards this man.

[stellarspecter]

20 questions for writers

i was tagged by @devondespresso and @spicysix! thanks guys!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

68! oh shit my next fic is my 69th i gotta finish that smut fic STAT

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

191,966. crazy

3. What fandoms do you write for?

most recently, stranger things, but i've also written a lot for julie and the phantoms and be more chill. and then various other oneshots for random stuff

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Befriend the Bully - Nerdy Prudes Must Die, 868 kudos (and 3rd most kudos'ed fic in the hatchetfield fandom???)

Saint Frost - Rise of the Guardians, 593 kudos

Me Too - Percy Jackson & the Olympians, 392 kudos

Hopefully - Be More Chill, 286 kudos

All This Feeling Second Best, It's Got Me by the Throat - Julie and the Phantoms, 249 kudos

most of those are pretty old so it makes sense that they've had the time to accumulate kudos, but that means they were also written when i was in high school so it's kind of like 😬

5. Do you respond to comments?

i used to more, now i don't really unless they said something that i specifically want to comment on. i just kind of forget or don't have anything to say lmao

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably my troped round 1 fic, you look like you've just seen a monster (is that what i look like to you?). usually i like to have a happy ending but i wrote this in like two days the week of my first breakup. so uh yeah couldn't really think of happy ending for that one.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

pretty much anything else lmao. i love to write fluff and cuddles and shit like that so just go read any other of my fics

8. Do you get hate on fics?

the only hate on fics i can remember ever getting was back in my bmc days when i wrote meremine and someone was mad bc michael is gay and didn't like that i put him in a throuple with a woman. but like other than that clown behavior no not really lmao

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i have one (1) smut fic published and it is on a different account because i was so scared of jatp fandom being mean lmao. luckily i only got nice comments on it so i will share that you can go read it here. i mean it was probably kind of obvious that it was me because there are only so many ppl into that rarepair? but idk jatp mutuals lmk who you thought it was lsdfksjf

i have been trying to write steddie smut recently, i have a wip that i'm working on that i will hopefully finish soon. if anyone would like to beta that lmk lol 👀 it is pretty kinky i will say lol but like. that's steddie for ya

10. Do you write crossovers?

not really. i'm more likely to just make an au of something for whichever fandom i'm currently obsessed with

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i don't think so? ppl would be welcome to do so tho

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no. co-brainstormed and went crazy in the dms about it tho? oh yeah

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

evidence shows it to be steddie, at least for now. i'm a big multishipper so a better question would more be "what do i find myself most often in the mood for?" and the answer would still be steddie sldkfjs

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

vampire chrissy fic i want to do right by you i fear i may not.... i signed it up for the wip big bang tho so hopefully i do actually get it done

16. What are your writing strengths?

dialogue! i love writing dialogue. screenwriting is awesome because it's just dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

hrmm action scenes. repetitive prose. actually sitting down and plotting something cohesively

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

nothing against it but i'm only fluent in english so i'd consult someone else who actually speaks that language

19. First fandom you wrote for?

doctor who in middle school :) i wrote my fics in my little writing notebook and some of them are even on ao3 lol

20. Favorite fic you've written?

like i said earlier with the favorite ship question, this is tough to answer because i feel like it comes down to more what am i in the mood for most often. i'm pretty proud of my trans steve fic as well as aro bi reggie, both of them because i spent a long time trying to make sure i doing the representation right and i think i did a good job. also that sad bobby polycurve fic from the kudos question, i put a lot of myself in it and i feel very proud of how it came out.

no-pressure tagging: @wr0temyway0ut @zazujoy @sunsetcurvecuddles @chickwiththepurpleguitar @weneedglitter

@queenofthequillandink @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @innytoes @floating-in-the-blue @invisibleraven

and anyone else who wants to do it!

[eccentric-nucleus]

hell game stuff. this is about pregnancy mechanics.

so continuing the mopping-up of engine stuff so i can finally focus on actually writing stuff, i decided to finally code in forcetf stuff. this is primarily going to be used for pregnancy stuff. you get impregnated, you get a new node that represents the fetus shoved into your body tree. if i was being more accurate with the body tree a la this thing i could even demand a 'womb' bodypart to store the thing. no, here they just kinda get shoved directly onto your core node in a new pregnancy-related slot.

i am not yet doing any 'fine-grained' body node stuff (like e.g., hair color, skin color, bodytype etc) and i'm not sure if i would even want to do that, since that would hugely expand the already-enormous amount of variation i have to factor in for sex scenes. but from a technical perspective i will probably support nodes having little tags attached that could store things like that, and here is likely the only place that they'd ever actually be used, for storing things like time-to-birth information. so a pregnancy would just be a node like any other kind of node on your body tree. sure. fine.

however. you know what you can do with all other nodes on your body tree? unequip them. so you could have multiple (paused??) eggs and larvae and fetuses floating around inside your inventory, to be resumed or swapped out for other pregnancies on the fly. that seems weird. so now i have to think about how to handle that. like, 1., i could just disable unequipping them. this is now a forced pregnancy game, which... is fine, b/c generally speaking porn games that touch on pregnancy stuff are for a target audience that's into pregnancy, so a forced pregnancy is maybe part of the appeal? 2. i could make unequipping them destroy the node. now there is an abortion mechanic. that... is also fine, in some sense. mechanically it's just as balanced, i guess. now there is a reference to something that people might have fraught, emotionally-intense reactions to in this still fairly lighthearted porn game. but i mean. so, so many porn games have rape as a primary mechanic, so it's not like that's that unusual, really

either one requires some adjustment of the body editor, so currently it's "you can unequip pregnancies". sure why not.

this is kind of why i enjoy systemizing, because once you have a framework you can slot things into you're forced to actually consider the implications of putting things into that framework. i'm currently kinda leaning towards allowing abortion, but i haven't really fully made up my mind. hell game 2: featuring monster-pregnancy abortion mechanics, i guess. like, that also kind of implies (just by nature of fully charting out the encounter state space) that i could have scenes that comment on that? zombie impregnated you but no birthing scene happened and you're not currently pregnant -> this is a logical condition you gotta factor in to have a total scene. obviously it could be 'just totally ignore that and reset zombie impreg state', b/c i'm definitely not writing in abortion forks for all encounters that can impregnate you. but it's a thing that now exists, nascent, within the content framework of the game.

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

I have no idea where this came from, but I decided to write a thing when I saw that Crimson_Fanfic_Writer_7 needed some cheering up and asked for Sterek, angst and hurt/comfort for TML's Drabble for Dopamine. This was honestly supposed to be 500 words, but somehow transformed into a mini monster of its own. Inspired by @whumptember's alternative prompts, "You don't deserve this." and "It should have been me." Mind the tags below. Title: The Walls Came Crashing Down (<- on AO3) Rating: Teen Ship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski WC: 4.2k Tags: AU- Canon Divergence, Post-Kanima Arc, Post-Nogitsune Arc, SPN S1 Ep5 Bloody Mary, Urban Legends, Whump, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin Saves the Day, Derek Hale to the Rescue, Unconsciousness, Implied/Referenced Torture, Survivor Guilt, Regret, Blood and Injury, Panic Attacks, Crying, Canon-Typical Violence, Pack, Stiles Needs a Hug, Derek Hale Comforts Stiles, POV Stiles, Hopeful Ending Summary:

"Stop thinking so hard, or you’re going to bleed." Surely it couldn’t be—wasn’t his Pack supposed to be duking things out with vampires right now? But a very solid and reassuring hand squeezed his own. Grounding him. Holding on, as if to drain away his pain. There was only one person who always did this whenever he got hurt. "Derek?" Stiles whispered, his voice raw and scratchy. * [Or: A mission goes horribly wrong, and Stiles finally figures out where he stands with Derek.]

Okay, so this fic is different from what I usually lean toward. Yeah, I'm an angst and hurt/comfort person, but it's rare for me to write about the whumpier and bloodier things. Reading it is one thing, but writing it really makes you wonder about a lot (ie. how everything physical is tied in with all things mental and emotional), and making sure to double-check things like facts and tagging. Also, I've been wanting to write a Bloody Mary thing for...a decade? I don't even know...there's something about common myths and urban legends that's so interesting and eerie. Love the lore and the potential for all the suspense, mystery and action that can come out of each and every story. Throw in some hurt characters, and hey, I guess things gotta get bad before they get better? Feels that pull, that's what it's about. This really was a treat to write, lbh. And I will look for an excuse for Stiles and Derek to make each other feel better. They've seen some Stuff, and they 1000% deserve all the comfort and hugs. Anyway, something new for the fall and pre-spooky season. I hope you give this a read when you have a chance. Enjoy!

[livslunaticdamiansdisciple18]

Monster- Jimmy Uso #2

Jimmy Uso x Aphrodite Smith

Warnings: Swear words!

Word Count: 1128

A/N: Hi everybody this is Monster (the first fic/request I wrote on main acc) except it is all individual wrestlers so that way I can write for a different person and this time the person at play is JD McDonagh (aka McFunkopop)

Nyla Gunn is the ring name!!

Aphrodite’s entrance song when she’s a face

Aphrodite's entrance song when she's a heel

Aphrodite’s hair, makeup, and outfit when she’s a face

Aphrodite's hair, makeup, and outfit when she's a heel

(The black hair isn’t her hair color it’s just for the makeup, she has white hair, and her outfit is black)

“Michael, Jimmy Uso is awaiting his partner. Who is this mysterious diva” Wade Barrett shouted into the mic an intrigued tone filling his voice. Just when Michael was going to speak music blasted through the arena. Who was partnering with Jimmy Uso?

“It’s the newbie making her debut tonight, it’s Nyla Gunn! Why would they put her with Jimmy Uso?” Michael Cole asked with a tone of confusion in his voice. Aphrodite did her entrance and ran down the ramp toward the ring. She got into the ring and she saw Judgement Day and she saw her boyfriend JD McDonagh. The bell rang and everyone started fighting. Rhea was about to hit Jimmy with the Riptide when Aphrodite tagged Jimmy in and started attacking Rhea. Aphrodite caught Rhea off guard by super-kicking her and hitting her with the Riptide.

“OMG! NO FUCKING WAY! NYLA GUNN JUST HIT RHEA RIPLEY WITH HER OWN DAMN MOVE! THE RIPTIDE!!” Michael and Wade shouted into their mics with excitement and joy. Aphrodite went for the pin. 1, 2, 3…. Aphrodite did it. Aphrodite won her debut match against the Women’s World Champion. Aphrodite crouched down to a hurt Rhea Ripley in the ring and she softly whispered “Sorry girl.” Then she hopped out of the ring with a smile on her face. The fans cheered her on her way back to Gorilla. 

“Hello everyone! I’m Kayla Braxton and right now I’m joined by the newbie who killed it in her debut match Nyla Gunn! Welcome, so we just watched you do an incredible job in your debut match and you pinned the Women’s World Champion Rhea Ripley! Tell us how you feel! How was it?” Kayla asked. “Well if I’m being honest Kayla, I feel amazing. I loved it. I love feeling the rush of being in the ring, especially with people like the Usos and Rhea Ripley. I’m glad my debut was successful. I love the energy of the fans.” Aphrodite spoke feeling every single emotion ooze throughout her body. “And cut! Great job Kayla and Aphrodite.” Kayla and Aphrodite waved bye and just as she was about to leave to go to her locker room she sees Jimmy Uso and Jimmy says “Heyyyy…” “Aphrodite. My name is Aphrodite” “Aphrodite, thanks for tagging me in and saving my ass from the eradicator Rhea ‘Bloody’ Ripley. You new here?” Aphrodite said “Yea. I used to be an independent wrestler but I’ve never wrestled for WWE so yea today was my debut match.” Aphrodite explained flashing a smile. Jimmy stopped listening cause he was looking at Aphrodite’s icy blue eyes as if he was getting lost in them instantly.

“I wanted to know if you wanted to come to dinner with me so we can celebrate our win and congratulate you on your debut match if that’s alright with you?” Jimmy asked flashing a smile. “To celebrate? No one naturally asks me to celebrate with them 'cause it’s more of a personal thing for them.” Aphrodite whispered softly. “Maybe we could even call our little get-together a date, 'cause you’re really pretty… well that’s if you’re not seeing anyone at the moment!” Jimmy said as panic rushed across his face like the blood rushes through his veins. Aphrodite lightly punched him in his arms. “Sorry Jimmy, I’m gonna have to take a rain check. I’m seeing someone but some other time works. I gotta go.” She left and Jimmy backed off.

~Time skip 3 weeks after her debut where she catches JD cheating~

Aphrodite had woken up in the guest bedroom with all of her stuff packed but she didn’t know why. She got up and took a shower before going to her room to ask JD why her stuff was in the guest bedroom when she walked in on JD and Rhea making love. Angry she packed her clothes and everything she needed and stormed out of the house. She put her bags in the car and drove to the arena cause she needs to talk to Stephanie. Once at the arena she gets out and grabs her wrestling bag and goes into the arena pissed off.

She sees Jimmy and he says “Oh hey Aphrodite! How are you doing?” Aphrodite doesn’t answer and walks past Jimmy shoving him and goes to Stephanie’s office. Once out of Stephanie’s office, she goes to a vacant locker room, and when she sees JD she attacks him backstage in Gorilla. She screams at him “You’re a piece of fucking shit. I hope you enjoy Rhea ‘Bloody’ Ripley. Give her this.” She takes off the promise ring and steps on it. Breaking it under her foot. Aphrodite gets pulled off of JD by Rhea. Rhea wants to face her and Aphrodite accepts. Aphrodite goes to her locker room when she hears a knock on her door.

She opens it to see Jimmy. She motions for him to come in and she gives Jimmy some ice and says “Sorry for the shove. Why are you here?” Aphrodite asked in a bitchy heel tone. Jimmy says “I came to check on you. Are you ok?” He asked concerned about her. Aphrodite says “I’ve never been better baby. Now if you don’t mind I have to get ready for a match you ain’t the only one to witness the craziness that’s about to happen. You are staying with me at ringside. Now can you please leave I have to finish getting ready. Oh, you are finally getting your date. I’m single now.” A smile grew on Jimmy's face as he left. When Aphrodite was done she went to the ring and she unleashed the monster that JD had just created.

Once she won the match. She did her interview and she explained that JD cheated on her and created this monster that was waiting to be unleashed. Jimmy grew furious finding out the news but Aphrodite told him don’t worry about Judgement Day. Jimmy took Aphrodite on a date to celebrate and he got to know her a little bit better. She drove to his house in her car and they relaxed watching TV. Aphrodite said “I haven’t had that much fun in a long time. I really enjoyed myself. I want a second date. We should do this all the time!!” Jimmy smirked and started grinning he said “Yea. Maybe I’ll get showered with kisses on the second date!” which made Aphrodite laugh and she punched him softly in his chest.

-I hope you guys enjoyed this. This is going to be another one in the solo Monster series. Feel free to send your requests in my inbox. Love you guys <333.

[lesbitorte]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Hii @mostmagical thank you for the tag!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 3!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

3,710 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just ml at the moment!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Well, I don't have many so I'll list them in most kudoed order

Tangerine (135 kudos)

Trying to remember how it feels (to have a heartbeat) (57 kudos)

we'll say Hallelujah (you're home) (34 kudos)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! Because i like replying, also I think it's right since they decided to have words about my writing and i love to reply to show that I appreciate what they think about it

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

It's Trying to remember how it feels (to have a heartbeat)

To be fair i try to write more on the comfort side despite my last fic being somewhat heavy on the topic

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Tangerine! It's just wholesome moments for the core four and Adrien pining

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not the i know of xD

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Maybe 👀

Yes, i do but ehhhh haven't posted any yet because i never finished them and there's some monsters, and crack and straight up sin AUs in there xD

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'm working on a rewrite in Spanish for Tangerine

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Have not entirely but we did try to start one with @asti-doodles and @halfahelix, it's just a lot of brainstorming and lose scenes

(I don't remember if you guys have posted fics or I just read the snippets you shared but you are welcome to join the game!)

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Love square, they have almost complete reign of my braincells.

And percabeth!

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

My chlolix fic, i want to finish it but words never want to come out.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I have no idea, but I got some people talking about the way i do dialogue feeling natural

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I say multi chaptering and writing the in-between scenes of the important bits of the story, like how do you get from point a to point b and from there to point c kinda thing

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

10/10 if it makes sense and is relevant to what is happening. Gotta think like that being bilingual myself xD

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Does it count as fandom if i was a kid and not in social media? Because if it does it's The Fairly OddParents, BUT if not it was for One Direction.

All of that has been deleted from existence tho

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

we'll say Hallelujah (you're home)

That's a fic that i think will forever be my favorite because it's not only something that i think needed to be explored about Adrien but because it's something i deeply resonate and relate about him. Some stuff in that short fic is stuff i think Adrien could have gone through specifically and some others are my actual experience regarding it.

Thank you again for tagging me!

Tags (NO PRESSURE): @victorian-platence @wackus-bonkus-maximus @redundant-lava @bittersweetresilience @coffeebanana @ck2k18 @asukiess @ladyofthenoodle @heartfulselkie @torvalvt

basically most of the writer littlebugs and people I'm comfy tagging xD