#it was like a mile hike through the woods and we had No idea we were in the sculpture park until we were already there

[neurotypical-karen]

I found this thing while drunk in the woods, and I was with friends so it wasn’t particularly scary, but it definitely felt more alive than you would expect

"Elk Centaur" by Francois Lelong

Stevens Point Sculpture Park, Wisconsin, USA

[smuthospital]

🎃⭐️Texas Chainsaw Massacre x reader⭐️🎃

Art by: Minilev

Premise: You go hiking with a friend and this bitch has the audacity to leave you alone. You end up hitchhiking with some hippies, but their van gets a flat! Oh no! Good thing there's a farmhouse nearby. Maybe they can help

Note: I had this in the drafts for awhile. I decided to whip it out for halloween. Enjoy. Say one thing bad thats not constructive criticism and its a block. Tired of these fucking kids smh. Also, imagine everyone with a soulthern accent

-Dr. Smut

Minors DNI

Warning: Non-Con, side charicter death, mentions of gore, kidnapping, fem reader

"So uh..thanks for picking me up." You say with a nervous smile. You refrain from coughing as the strong smell of marijuana floods your nose. Right now, you're in a classic 70s Volkswagen van, hitchhiking through Texas. Your friend convinced you to go backpacking with her, but a quarterway through, she ditched you to continue the trip with her new boyfriend. Some junky she met at a gas station. You can't exactly turn tail and go home because she took the car, and stranded you in the middle of nowhere so, you had no choice, but to catch a ride with some hippies.

"No prob, sweet cheeks. Anything for a pretty lil' lady like yourself." The driver looks back at you for a moment and winks. You think he may like you. You cringe slightly. "Eddy has a crush on you! Ain't that right, Ed?" A girl next to you wearing a tie-dye crop top pokes Edds back a couple of times. "Well, who wouldn't?" He chuckles. You play with your fingers nervously. You've been driving along a dusty, desolate path through some empty part of Texas for a while now. You've always been perturbed by the idea of Texas. Americans and with their guns and hot temper and all. It seems you may have watched too many scary movies. You haven't seen a soul for miles, let alone a house, just tall grass and more tall grass.

The car suddenly jolts and you're all jostled around. The girl sitting next to you clings to you as the driver slams the brakes. You gasp for air, your heart pounding a mile a minute. "Huh!? W-what the!?" Edd shouts before hopping out to investigate. You cautiously slip out the back and join him. Edd lifts a spiked wire. It's still stuck in the now flat tire. "Some asshole must'a dropped it here while delivering somethin'," he says as he drops it back on the ground. It popped the back tires. You pull out your phone. No service. Of course.

"Do you have any spares?" You ask, hoping to get out of this creepy place. "Unfortunately these are the spares, sweet cheeks." He sighs. "Weren't you supposed to buy more, Ed?" Ann shouts from the window. "This is no time to argue! We have to get help!… Look, There's a farmhouse right there. Let's hope someone's home." He says, walking towards it.

You hesitantly follow them to the creepy house. "I'm gonna check the farm, you two knock on the door." Edd doesn't give anyone time to respond before he walks off. You walk up to the front door and Ann knocks. You feel like you're being watched. You shift from foot to foot nervously. A few minutes pass and no word. Not even a sound. "What the? Where's Edd? If no one was home, he should be back by now!" Ann looks around. You begin feeling incredibly anxious. "Let's go find that idiot," she says and walks off quickly, you follow behind her. You can't leave her to do it by herself so you agree. You walk over to the farm and see…the gate open.

"H..hello?" You call. "E-Edd?"…No response. The two of you cautiously walk into the house. It smells like wood and iron. You see a red smudge on the wall…weird. This is getting scary. "Ann…I think we sh-" You're cut off by a blood-curdling scream from Ann. You quickly go over to the open doorway she's looking at to see a horrific sight. Edd has been cut to pieces. You hold back bile in your throat and grab Ann. "Let's go!" You shout. She snaps out of her trance and follows you to the entryway, only for the two of you to halt in your tracks.

Standing there is a giant, his hulking frame filling the doorway. He's the scariest thing you've ever seen in your life. A mask covers half his face, and in his arms is a chainsaw. You make eye contact with the beast and scream. Ann yanks you deeper into the house, hoping to find an exit. The man follows you, hot on your trail. You see a back door and try to open it, but it's locked. Cassie then barely avoids losing her arm as she dodges the giant.

He hasn't tried to attack you yet. You grab a chair and smash it through a window. You pick up a plant and throw it at the man, who cornered Ann. He's completely unphased, but pauses and looks at you as if to warn you. You toss his warning to the wind and jump on his back. "Ann, go!" You scream. Ann runs towards the window but stops when another man shorter than the man you're currently on top of, smashes a hammer onto her head.

You hear a crack and she falls to the floor, limp. "Ann!" You cry. Your body was then slammed to the floor by the hulking, chainsaw-wielding psychopath. You whimper and crawl backwards. You hit a wall and he lifts his chainsaw towards you. You're thankful It's turned off. You close your eyes and wait for death. You feel the blade lightly touch your collarbone…and then gently move down between your breasts and to the junction between your spread legs…he rubs your thigh with the chainsaw lightly, as if thinking. You look up at him in confusion. He tosses the saw to the side and grabs your face in his large hand. He tilts your head from side to side, examining you.

"Think she's pretty, Tommy?" The man who just attacked Ann asked.

'Tommy', the giant holding your face grunts and nods. You're horrified. Does this monster think you're pretty? "Yeah, I agree, Tommy. Good thing you didn't turn her into dinner… though, I don't think you were gonna. You had your eye on her since their car landed in our road trap." He laughed. Trap!? This was all a setup!? Did he say dinner!? Your head is spinning.

Tommy looped his bur waist arm around your waist and hoisted you up, placing you on his shoulder like you weighed a small sack of potatoes. "H-hey! What are you doing? Put me down!" You shout, pounding your hands on his back, but it doesn't even look like he knows you're hitting him. You hear footsteps and look up to see an old woman looking over at you. “P-please help me” you whimper. She smiles down at you sweetly.

"Well, I do say, you sure found yourself a sweet little thing. Ain't that right, Thomas.” The hulking figure above you grunts in agreement. You cry as you realize she has no intention of helping you in the least. “She has a pretty voice too…Take care of my Tommy, girl!” She warns, glaring down at you. “Tommy. Get'er to pop out a few farmhands, will you?" All blood drains from your face. They…want you to…what? Tommy carries you down into a dark, creepy basement. You almost puke. You see dead bodies hanging from hooks and dismembered limbs and bones strewn about….is that Edd? You're carried down a hallway and into a room. The room is empty besides a dirty mattress in a corner. He throws you on the mattress and begins to undress you immediately.

You scream and try to stop him, but he's just too strong. "P-Please stop!" You cry. Tears flow down your cheeks and you hiccup. Tommy leans down and wipes away your tears, not calming you in the slightest. He strips you down to your bra and panties and takes a good look at you, drinking up your body. You can see the lust in his eyes. He grunts in excitement and removes his bloody apron. You curl your body up and hide yourself from him. He softly strokes your cheek and hugs you like you're a teddy bear. He's oddly gentle, but you feel he's losing patience. He taps your shoulder a few times, silently urging you to show yourself to him. when you don't, his taps become a little harder. He grunts in annoyance. He presses himself into you, trying to get closer. You feel his hard cock through his pants and try to shuffle back.

He grunts in frustration, yanking your arm and knees apart, forcing your body to reveal. You need to do something!…" Please,… don't hurt me, Tommy" He only stares into your eyes. You can see emotions swirl in his eyes before he lets go of you and stomps out of the room. Looks like he's giving you time to cooperate. You bring your hands to your face and sob. You look up. You have to get out of here! You hope to god you can do this. You get up and tip-toe towards the door as quietly as you can. You slowly open it and slide it open just enough for you to fit through, which proves to be quite difficult as it's very heavy. You don't know how the monster did it before.

You continue to quietly make your way down the dark hallway, missing the dark shadow to your side. You try not to look around too much at the carnage before making your way up the stairs. You find the window you previously broke now boarded up. You take a deep breath, preparing to make a run for the front door. You haven't heard anyone yet so you think you're still in the clear. You make it to the front door and just as you're about to try and open it, your body is slammed against the wall, your breath knocked out of you. You cough and groan. You feel dizzy. You look up to see Tommy staring down at you with a look of anger. Was he waiting for you to try to escape?

You grit your teeth before lifting your knee to knee him in the crotch, but he anticipates it and grabs your leg, lifting it. He makes space for himself between your legs and lets his large hands roam your bare midriff and up to your breasts where he proceeds to rip off your bra, revealing your chest to him. You whimper in pain and try to hide yourself, earning yourself a shove into the wall, banging your head slightly.

The corners of your eyes go dark for a few moments. Your head stops spinning when he leans down and slides his tongue up your cheek. His other hand reaches down and roughly grabs at your clothed cunt. He makes sounds of excitement once again. Saying you're terrified would be an understatement. You feel his fingers cup and wiggle around down there, not knowing what to do, but liking the feeling of doing it.

You again try to shove him off as best you can. He grunts in annoyance and moves the hand previously on your chest up to your throat. Your whimpers and please turn into choked gasps and gurgles as he squeezes. He gets even closer and you can feel something hard rub against your lower stomach. "Get her, Tommy, get her!" You hear from behind him. He grunts in response and tears off your underwear. He brings it to his nose and inhales. His eyes roll back a bit as if smelling the most heavenly scent imaginable.

You now realize he's probably never held a woman before and he's completely deprived of any sort of warm human touch. "Common, Tommy, gimme that! You get to have her, the least I should get is her undies!" His brother pleads. Tommy contemplates holding the small bit of cloth in front of him before tossing it back, which his brother catches and desperately presses to his face, moaning into the fabric like it's an oxygen mask.

Tommy grabs your hair and begins dragging you back down to the basement. You scream in pain and grab onto his hand for any relief as you're forced to the ground. "No! Please! Ahh Stop!" You cry out. He drags your naked body down the blood-crusted steps and makes his way back to the room you dread. He tosses you onto the mattress once again. By the time you manage to get up on your knees, you hear a clinking sound and turn to see him undoing his belt.

You crawl into the corner as he gets on his knees before you, his shadow casting over you. He unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall off. You now know that trying to inflict pain on him is futile. Muscles that scream he could crush you like a soda can. Not only is he as big as a fridge, but he also looks like an off-season pro wrestler. You can see a very prominent bulge struggling to free itself. The size of the tent itself is intimidating.

His eyes lock on yours as he slowly unzips his belt and frees his aching cock. You look away and feel his weight settle on the bed closer to you. You can feel his heavy breathing on the side of your face. He grabs your legs and yanks you beneath him, positioning himself at your entrance. You feel his bulbous tip rub up and down your folds. "Please…" Your eyes widen and you trail off as your eyes lower to what's prodding at your cunt. You want to look away, but morbid curiosity wins. It's almost unbelievable. His cock like himself, is too big. It's long, very thick and veiny. It looks like a beer can. You can just tell he's smiling under his mask.

He slowly pushes the tip in. You try to scoot back, but he grips your hips with his massive hands and pushes forward, but fails entry, seeming too big. He grunts in frustration. He tries again, this time managing to push the tip in. You scream. It hurts so bad. "No, y-you're too big!" you gasp, squirming in place. He holds your hips tighter and continues pushing forward, impaling you on his cock, all the way to the base.

Your mind blanks. You're unable to think cohesively. You're in so much pain. He lets out a groan of pleasure and doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size and just starts moving. It feels like your organs are moving around to accommodate his massive size. You look down to see a large bulge in your lower stomach. You whimper and groan as he thrusts. "W-why?" You croak. He looks up at you before lifting your knees, pressing them to your chest and leaning on you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you feel him push deeper into your womb, the tip of his cock threatening to push through your cervix. He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, cooing softly to you affectionately while playing with your hair as if to say 'I love you'.

You cry beneath him, moans being forced from your lips as his hips plow into yours. Tommy grabs your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. You can hear him making happy sounds of some sort between grunts. He suddenly picks you up and gets off the bed with you in his arms, skewering you on his cock. He raises you up and down like a human fleshlight. You uncontrollably moan into his shoulder. His hands grope your ass as he starts to force you up and down faster. It feels good. You can't help but feel shame.

He grunts loudly and forces himself as deep as he can. You whine as you feel a rush of hot cum flow into you. Rope after rope, he fills you up. You feel so hot inside. Your stomach bloats from the sheer volume he fucked into you. He pants and looks at you, rubbing your cheek with his. He slowly lifts you off his cock, cum pouring from your abused cunt before setting you down on the mattress. He covers you with a thick warm blanket and brushes your hair from your face, stroking it with his thumb lovingly. If you knew this was gonna be a one-way trip, you would've brought some pillows.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Summer Heat | S.R

Summary - By orders or the director, the BAU must undertake a team building hike in the woods. You and Spencer have never gotten along and not even the summer heat seems to be able thaw the ice that exists between you. But then you get yourselves lost and while waiting for rescue, you have to find a way to pass the time…

A/N - set somewhere in the realms of s15. This is my second entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Summer Sunshine Challenge.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / BAU Fem! Reader

Warnings - enemies to lovers, Spencer’s awkward info dumping about hiking related deaths, swearing, public urination, talks of bladder control techniques, treating wounds, Spencer is touch starved, mentions of prison and Cat Adams and Max, Spencer and reader are oblivious idiots, make outs, handjob, fingering, public sexual acts, interruptions.

WC - 8.9k

The potency of the early afternoon Virginia sun infiltrating the towering thicket of loblolly pines caressed your skin, peppering its honeyed kisses across your flesh. 

The warm earthy scents combined with the aromas of moss and the sharp, almost sweet notes of the pine trees engulfed you in a blanket of mother earth's creation. 

You hummed to yourself as you trekked up a grassy incline barely registering the weight of your oversized pack on your back. You were no stranger to hiking or the heat and you were barely phased by it. 

Unlike some people. 

Doctor Spencer Reid was equipped for neither physical activity or the weather, despite the fact he grew up in desert climates. You could hear him huffing and puffing behind you as he struggled up even the smallest of hills. 

You reached the brow and turned back to him with your hands on your hips. His face was flushed red from a combination of the sun and exertion. His hair stuck to his sweaty brow and his chest heaved with his breaths. 

When he reached you, he doubled over, hands on his knees and he fought to catch his breath. You rolled your eyes and waited somewhat impatiently for him to stand again. 

“Are you really this out of shape?” You scoffed. 

He glanced up through a curtain of hair, puffing uneven breaths out between parted lips. 

“Clearly.” He bit back. 

It wasn’t a secret that the two of you didn’t exactly see eye to eye. You’d been with the team for almost a year now, but you and Spencer had never been close. 

You’d gotten off on the wrong foot on your very first case. He’d spent almost all day on the phone to someone talking about his mother and you’d made a flippant comment about him being a mama's boy. 

This led Spencer to launch into a rant about how his mother suffered from schizophrenia and altzeimers and how he was talking to her doctor because she was struggling to adjust to the new home he’d put her in DC. 

He didn’t stop there. He continued to inform that she had been moved to DC because she wasn’t responding well to medication or her living facility in Vegas. He detailed how he’d moved her to the east coast and then gotten arrested in Mexico whilst trying to procure some experimental medicine. 

He was seething by the time he told you that the same woman who’d gotten him arrested then had his mother kidnapped and almost killed. 

He wasn’t as standoffish towards you as he used to be, his iciness thawing somewhat over time. But you were never going to be his favourite person. And as a result, he wasn’t yours either. 

He forced himself to stand up straight, grabbing his canteen from where it was hanging from the strap of his backpack and taking a hefty sip before wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. 

“It’s just a little hike. It’s not like you’re running a marathon or anything.” You clucked. “Can we continue now?” 

“Just a little hike?” He groaned but started walking nonetheless. “It’s ten miles! And I have to do it with you.” 

“Oh you poor, unfortunate soul.” You rolled your eyes as you fell in step with him. 

The hike had been an idea which was floated down from the director. A team building exercise it had been dubbed. Although it wasn’t strictly mandatory it would look bad on those who didn’t participate. 

So the BAU was spending a rare weekend off on a ten mile hike through the Shenandoah National Park followed by spending the night camping at the valley’s campground. 

The Shenandoah National Park was more than five hundred miles of hiking trails extending along the Blue Ridge Mountains which included a section of long distance Appalachian Trail. 

As someone who relished in the outdoors you’d always wanted the chance to visit Shenandoah but had never had the opportunity. And if you were paired up with anyone other than Spencer you might have been able to enjoy yourself. 

Garcia had everyone draw straws in order to team up for the hike before you would all meet up later at the campground. You’d quite literally drawn the short straw with Spencer whilst Penelope was paired with Matt, Luke with JJ whilst Tara, Emily and Rossi made a group of three. 

Spencer was the least athletic of the BAU members, the least outdoorsy, and so far had not stopped complaining. 

You regarded your GPS as you walked to ensure you were headed in the right direction and the two of you fell back into silence. 

Spencer breathed heavily even when the trail was flat, groaning a little every time you came to another incline. 

You watched him out of the corner of your eye. It was a strange sight to behold, an academic who was far more comfortable indoors trekking through the woods like this. But what was even weirder was his outfit. 

You’d never seen Spencer out of a shirt and slacks but he’d tried to at least look the part of a hiker today. He wore a thin black t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts which showed off his surprisingly toned legs. You didn’t even think he would own such an item of clothing. 

He’d tried to look the part, probably only taking into account the heat and not the fact that he was leaving his legs exposed to bug bites and poison ivy. You wouldn’t be the one to tell him that though. 

He’d ditched his satchel in lieu of a backpack but still had his trusty converse on with obligatory mismatched socks. You’d told him converse would be hard to hike in, their thin soles alone not conducive to walking on the forest floor. 

Judging by the way he grimaced with nearly every step, he was starting to wish he’d listened to you. 

You continued to walk in silence, watching the way Spencer’s wary eyes cast around through the thick tree trunks, ears pricking at every tiny sound. 

“If you didn’t need to stop and catch your breath every five minutes we’d be back by now.” You couldn’t hold your tongue. 

Spencer’s head turned towards you, brows furrowed. 

“If we hadn’t taken such a hilly trail I wouldn’t need to keep stopping every five minutes. Did you know hikers use twenty eight percent more energy when traversing uneven terrain as opposed to flatter land?” He grabbed his canteen again and took another sip. 

“Don’t come crying to me when you’ve run out of water.” You ignored his statistical rambling, increasing your gait a little. 

“I won’t run out of water. I’ve calculated exactly how much I can afford to drink per hour when approximating how long it will take to walk ten miles.” He told you smugly. 

“Of course you have.” You rolled your eyes, picking up your pace a little more. 

“I can’t believe the bureau is making us do this. Do they not realise that hiking related deaths have been on the rise? They’ve increased as much as twenty one percent in recent years.” He grumbled as he tried to match your pace. 

“Oh please, do tell me more.” You huffed and clearly Spencer either didn’t sense your sarcasm or he chose to ignore it because he did tell you more.

“Fifty percent of all hiking related deaths are caused by a fall or drowning. Men make up seventy two percent of those victims.” He pulled a face, focusing on the ground beneath him now he’d drawn his own attention to that fact. 

“Well you for one are particularly clumsy.” You replied, your tone one of boredom. 

“The other fifty percent are due to medical conditions such as heart attacks while engaging in physical activity.” 

“What kind of physical activity?” You smirked suggestively, nudging him in his arm. 

Spencer shook his head as your childish insinuation. 

“Oh grow up, Y/L/N.” He spat. 

“I’m just saying if there is a man out there so good in bed he can induce a heart attack, I wanna meet him.” You chuckled, seeing him roll his eyes in your peripheral vision. 

“And I’m saying, hiking is inherently dangerous.” 

“We chase serial killers for a living.” You huffed, checking your navigational device again. 

“Which I am well versed in due to years of hands-on experience. I am not educated in outdoor pursuits.” He scoffed. 

“You seem to know a lot about hiking related deaths.” You cast your gaze upwards towards the sun peaking between the high trees. 

You could hear faint rhythmic buzzing from insects nearby, distance scuffling through the underbrush. Every now and again you picked up on various bird songs as they chirped from the high branches. 

It made a smile blossom on your features, being one with nature, the summer air cleansing your lungs. The sounds and the smells were a comfort to you, taking you back to childhood memories camping and trekking through forests just like this with your family and fond recollections of years spent at summer camps. 

Summer was without a doubt your favourite season. It elicited waves of nostalgia, taking you back to years spent at camp lake edges, eating ice cream hurriedly before it melted, giving you brain freeze.

It evoked images of burning campfires, the smell of the wood as it smouldered and the marshmallows roasting ready to be made into s’mores. Dulcet tones of an acoustic guitar played under the moonlight by Andy Duncan, your camp crush. 

And later when he’d walked you back to your cabin and bestowed upon you your first ever kiss. Summer held some of your best memories and kindled your sentimental side. 

You toyed with the GPS device in your hand as you walked, twigs and leaves crunching under foot. You didn’t realise Spencer was staring at you. 

“You okay?” He spoke up, snapping you out of your reminiscing. 

“Huh?” You glanced at him sideways. 

Spencer had a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looked at you, something you’d never seen on him before, not directed towards you anyway. 

“You look awfully wistful.” He shrugged. 

“I just love summer I guess.” You mirrored his action. 

“That makes sense.” Spencer turned away and looked back at the ground so he could avoid any potential trip hazards. 

“What does that mean?” You swatted at a bug that landed on your arm. 

“It means I’m not surprised you like summer, arguably the worst season.” He clucked. 

“The worst? Oh please. Let me guess Doc, you’re a fan of gloomy winter? That would make sense.” 

“Winter isn’t gloomy. Winter is oversized sweaters and hot cocoa by a fireplace. Huddled under blankets, the holidays. Sometimes even snow.” He told you as if you’d never heard of winter before. “But it’s not my favourite season. My favourite season is fall.” 

“Hmm, dark and moody tones, nature dying. That tracks.” You spoke in a clipped tone. 

“It’s not dying, it’s the start of rebirth. Shedding one layer so it can grow into something more than it ever thought it could be. It’s hauntingly beautiful really. And autumnal tones are stunning, all those earthy hues and streets littered in leaves. It makes me think of cinnamon and old books. Reading in the park with my mom when she was lucid and watching the leaves fall from the trees all around us.” It was Spencer’s turn to grow wistful. 

You noticed his eyes glaze over slightly, his lip quirking up at the corner as he got lost in a fond childhood memory. 

Spencer never talked to you about his youth or his mother after your initial falling out. He’d never been so candid with you before. As if he realised this, he shook his head, snapping himself out of his own revere. 

“I, uh, didn’t mean to share all that.” He grumbled, grabbing his canteen and sipping the water just for something to do. 

“I don’t mind.” 

“Well I do.” He spat, slowing a little as the two of you neared another slight slope. “You’re the last person I want to talk to about my mother.” 

You slowed with him until you both stopped. You folded your arms across your chest and glared at him. 

“Reid, come on. It’s been a long time. I’ve apologised for calling you a mama’s boy multiple times. How could I have possibly known about your mother?” You shook your head. 

Spencer’s jaw tightened, the muscle in the side of his face pulsing as he stared at you. You could all but see the cogs turning in his head as he fashioned a response. 

“I don’t want your apologies, Y/L/N.” He huffed out. 

He suddenly started walking again, ignoring how much his legs ached as he started up the small slope. You watched him go for a moment or two, feeling awash with anger. 

You’d been looking forward to this hike, to an excuse to spend the weekend outdoors in the sun. You were not going to let Doctor Spencer Reid ruin that for you. 

***

You carried on walking for another hour or so and not another word was spoken between you. It was tense and awkward and the sun was getting lower in the sky. 

It wouldn’t be at all long before it started getting dark and you were growing a little concerned that you might not make it back before the sunset. 

Spencer was clearly thinking the same as his brows had been furrowed for at least the past ten minutes and he was furiously chewing on his lip.

You halted in your tracks and pulled the GPS device back out. You stared down at it with a heavy frown, feeling the heat radiating off of Spencer as he drew closer to you. He peered at the GPS over your shoulder with a scrunched brow similar to your own. 

“That says we’re only a few hundred yards from the camp. We should be able to see it.” Spencer looked up but all he saw was trees.

He turned a complete three hundred and sixty degrees but was met by trees as far as the eye could see. 

“I think…I think it’s busted.” You groaned deeply, the sound reverberating out into the forest. 

“No? No!” Spencer snatched it from your hand and shook it as if that would help matters. “Call someone! It’s going to get dark soon!”

You did not miss the blatant panic in his voice and if you didn’t feel the same you might have made a jab at him for it. 

You reached for your phone in your pants pocket and unlocked the screen but groaned as soon as you did so. 

“Fuck, I have no signal.” 

“What?” Spencer scrabbled for his own device and huffed seeing he had no bars either. “We’re stuck out here?” 

“Uh,” you glanced around. “Yes?” 

“No, no. I am not dying out in the woods with you.” His tone was even more fraught. 

“Trust me, you are not my first choice of death partner either.” You scoffed.

“If we’re out here long enough we could dehydrate! Or get hypothermia! I told you fifty percent of hiking related deaths are caused by medical conditions.” He was spiralling. 

“How many hiking related deaths are caused by homicide?” You shot him an unamused look. 

“Eighteen percent of 990 deaths at national parks were considered intentional. That includes suicide and homicide.” 

“It was a rhetorical question.” You shook your head. “Maybe if we get to higher ground we can get some cell service.” 

You started to walk but had no idea where you were going. You just had to hope you would find some higher ground. 

Spencer followed you for lack of any better suggestions. He was sulking like a petulant child, clearly there was something on his mind as he huffed a few times as he trailed behind you. 

You walked no more than a few minutes before his constant sighing and pouting caused you to stop again. 

“What?” You spat. “What is it?” 

Spencer frowned, halting in his tracks too. He was rolling his lip frantically between his teeth now and jiggling a little where he stood. 

“I, uh,” his cheeks flushed red. “I need to use the bathroom.” 

You closed your eyes for a second, pinched the bridge of your nose. 

“I hate to break it to you but there are no bathrooms way out here.” 

“It’s a figure of speech.” He grumbled. “I need to…pee.” 

“Okay, well take your pick.” You motioned around to the copious trees surrounding you. 

“I’m not a dog.” He rolled his eyes. 

“I’m sorry princess but it’s the best I can offer you.” 

Spencer sucked in a deep breath, clenching his hands at his side. His leg was still jiggling with his need to urinate. 

Spencer had developed an extremely strong bladder in his time in prison. The toilets on offer at Milburn were some of the most unhygienic he’d ever seen and as such had used them as little as humanly possible. 

He’s trained himself to strengthen his bladder, exercising his pelvic floor in order to reduce the amount of times in a day he needed to use the bathroom. 

As such during the hike he hadn’t been once while you had been multiple times. And now it had snuck up on him, coming out of nowhere and he wouldn’t be able to hold it long. 

“Goddamn I hate nature.” He grumbled, glancing around for the largest looking tree he could use to shield himself from you. 

You watched as he turned his back on you, hurrying off in one direction, further than was strictly necessary. You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head. 

“Don’t worry, Doc I’m not looking to catch a glimpse.” You called after him. You heard a tut in response but he didn’t rise to it. 

Spencer pushed forwards through some bushes and weaved in and out large pines before he found a tree trunk far enough away from you that he could have some semblance of peace while he expelled himself. 

He made sure the trunk was blocking his body before he unbuttoned his cargo shorts and freed himself from his pants. Within a fraction of a second he was already urinating.

He let out a relieved sigh, holding the base of his cock in one hand for aiming purposes whilst leaning the other on the tree. 

He closed his eyes as the blissful sensation of his bladder emptying consumed him. He didn’t relish doing this in the woods but he couldn’t deny how nice it felt. 

It felt so good in fact he didn’t even notice the itching of his calves. He finished his business and tucked himself away before buttoning his shorts. 

He swung his pack off his back and rummaged in the side pocket for a little bottle of hand sanitiser. He squirted a little in his palm and rubbed his hands together. 

Returning it to his bag and putting it back on, he noticed a stinging in his left calf but ignored it as he walked back over to you. As he walked his other leg started to sting too. 

When he reached you he subconsciously reached down and started scratching the backs of his bare legs with his blunt nails. You stared at him curiously. 

“You okay?” 

“Just a little itchy. Think I’ve been bitten or something.” He grumbled. 

You walked around him and regarded his legs. His skin was flushed red with little raised blisters dotted up the backs of both calves. 

“Reid,” you took his wrists and guided his hands away from his frantic scratching. “I think you’ve walked in poison ivy.” 

He snapped back to his full height, eyes wide. 

“What? No? Come on!” He moaned, glancing back at the rash forming. “Could this day get any worse?” 

“I’ve got a first aid kit in my bag, I’m going to need to treat those. If you keep scratching they could scar. Maybe this will teach you for wearing shorts on a hike.” You put down your backpack and rummaged for the kit. 

“It’s nearly eighty degrees.” He scoffed. “And I’ve never been hiking before.” 

“Just shut up and stand still. Give me your water.” You knelt down on the ground behind him.

“You’ve got your own water.” 

“I’m not wasting my water on cleaning your rash because you were the idiot who wore shorts. Give me your water.” 

Spencer huffed out a breath to show he wasn’t happy but then he unlatched his canteen from his bag strap and passed it back to you. So much for his calculations. 

You uncapped it and poured a little on the back of each leg causing him to shudder. You used a small hand towel you had in your backpack to dry them off before sanitising your hands.

You located the hydrocortisone ointment in the first aid kit and squeezed a little on the pads of your fingers. You cautiously started on his left leg, massaging the cream into the small blisters. 

Spencer hissed and his legs buckled a little. He was silent though and allowed you to treat his rash. Soon you were moving onto the other leg and although it stung Spencer couldn’t deny he enjoyed the skin to skin contact. 

As much as he hated to admit it, Spencer was touch starved. He hadn’t felt another set of hands on him in such a tender way since before prison. 

He’d deliberately kept everyone at arms length since, not trusting himself or deeming himself worthy to be so close to another person. 

He’d almost allowed himself to go there with Max, to succumb to the kind of pleasure he’d sorely missed. They’d kissed but ultimately that was the furthest he’d let himself go. 

And somehow your benevolent touch was more intimate than kissing Max. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on his part. 

He was sure you knew the real reason he was so brusque with you wasn’t because of what you’d call him during your first case. He was annoyed about it at first but he hadn’t held a grudge over it. 

His curt behaviour towards you stemmed from his almost overwhelming crush on you. He’d pushed you away because when he met you he wasn’t ready to be close to someone. But in doing so he had inevitably sealed his own fate so that now when he might actually want to pursue something, you could barely stand him.

He tried to omit the feeling of your fingertips on his calves and focused his attention on the warbling of a nearby bird. Its song wasn’t the prettiest he’d ever heard but it had a certain cadence to it which he found oddly calming. 

All too soon you were finished and your touch was gone, leaving Spencer feeling dissatisfied. You wrapped both of his rashes in gauze bandages but your fingers barely ghosted over his flesh again.

You stuffed the kit back away and pushed yourself to your feet, brushing the dirt off of your knees. Spencer looked down at his newly bandaged legs with a small frown. 

“Do you have a change of clothes? Some pants perhaps?” You asked.

“No, for all my planning and research I did not think to bring long pants.” He shook his head at his oversight. 

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but you could have asked me what you should bring. The whole team knows I’m big on hiking and camping.” You turned away from him, looking back out through the trees to try and ascertain the best direction to head. “I also could have told you that converse was a dumb choice for hiking. I can only imagine how much your feet hurt.” 

Spencer made a noise that sounded somewhat like he agreed with you but didn’t want to say it out loud. You pulled out a piece of crumpled paper from your backpack and unfolded it, staring intently at it for a few moments. 

Spencer came closer, glancing down at the wrinkled paper in your hands. It looked to be a topographic map of the area. Finally something Spencer understood about hiking. 

“Didn’t know Garcia gave us those.” He spoke as you studied it.

“She didn’t. This isn’t my first rodeo, I would never have come out here without one.” You didn’t look at him. 

“So I can read this but how do you work out where we are? There’s nothing but trees for miles.” He scratched the back of his neck. 

“Observation. We passed a small body of water about a mile back. I didn’t see it but I could hear it off to the west. And this incline,” you pointed in front of you. “Will help figure it out.” 

“Okay, so a small body of water and an area where the contour lines aren’t too close as the hill isn’t too steep.” He nodded.

“Exactly.” You agreed. “And if my bearings are right I believe we’re facing north east.” 

Spencer looked around briefly before a smile tugged at his lips. 

“Because of the position of the sun.” 

“Yep. And the moss.” You nodded towards the trees. “It’s not an exact science but in the whole moss tends to grow on the north side of trees in the northern hemisphere.”

Spencer watched while you ran your index finger along the map, trying to draw on everything you knew in order to get the two of you to higher ground. 

“Wow I’m…I’m actually impressed.” He chuckled a little and you looked up at him with a frown. 

“Are you patronising me?” 

“What? No! I mean it. I’m really impressed.” 

“Oh,” you looked back at the map. “Thanks.” 

A minute or so later and you’d estimated a few miles worth of trail you believed the two of you to be on. If you were right you were still miles from the camp and wouldn’t make it there by nightfall. 

Your plan was to find somewhere to get cell service so you could call the team and hopefully they could get park rangers out here to find you as they were the only ones equipped to traverse the forest after dark. 

Spencer followed you while you kept the map in your hand. The two of you walked for another mile or so, by this point Spencer’s water rations were nearly depleted. 

Eventually you stopped at the foot of a large, steep hill and Spencer looked up at it with a dubious expression. 

“You want me to climb that?” He whined. 

“Well we have a better chance of getting cell service when we have two phones.” You rolled your eyes, folding the map and slotting it in your pocket. 

“Can’t you just take mine up there with you?” He pulled a face. “I really do not possess the physical prowess for this.”

“No kidding.” You scoffed. “But we’re in this together. I could get hurt or something, I need you for backup.” 

Spencer groaned, pouting his bottom lip like a child. 

“Oh jeez, fine.” He huffed. “But I will complain every step of the way.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” With a shake of your head you started forward and Spencer reluctantly followed you.

You got less than twenty paces before he almost slipped and fell on his face. To steady himself he instinctively reached for your hand. He didn’t let go the whole way up. 

You hated to admit it but there was something oddly comforting about Spencer’s hand in yours. His hand was warm and surprisingly soft and it was so much larger than your own he all but encompassed yours. 

He held onto you tightly, fingers squeezing your hand every time his foot slipped a little on the hilly ground. A part of you didn’t want to make it to the top because you didn’t want him to let go. 

But of course as soon as the ground levelled out he slipped his hand away and all but collapsed onto the damp ground below, huffing and puffing. You watched him grab his canteen and finish the water without a second thought. 

He removed his pack and rolled onto his back, relishing in every last drop of liquid and clearly not concerned he had now emptied his reserves. He closed his eyes and pushed his hair back off his sweaty forehead. 

You pulled your cell phone out and unlocked it. You had one tiny bar of signal which you hoped was enough to make a call. You nudged Spencer in the ribs with the toe of your hiking boot. His eyes shot open and he stared up at you, the exhaustion heavy in his eyes. 

“I’ve got one bar, I’m going to try and call Prentiss.” You informed him, bringing up your contacts. 

You found Emily’s name quickly and hit the call button before putting the device on speaker. The dial tone was crackly and you knew the signal could cut out at any minute. It rang four times before Emily answered but her words were muffled and you only caught a handful of what she said.

“Y/N…are you?...Gone hours…thing okay?” 

“Emily, we got lost. Our GPS was misprogrammed. We need help.” You had no idea how much she could hear of what you were saying.

“...are you?...send a rang…coordinates?” 

You reeled off your approximate coordinates, explaining that you could be anywhere within a few miles of that spot but again you don’t know what she heard due to the spotty service. 

“Hold tight…get a ranger…be okay.” 

“Thanks Emily.” You finished before hanging up.

Spencer was still on the floor on his back, his brows furrowed in concern.

“How much of that do you think she got?” He was rolling his lip between his teeth.

“I have no idea.” You pocketed the phone again. “I’m almost certain Garcia would have brought her laptop with her. If she can get to the rangers station and get on the WiFi she might be able to locate us.”

“Yeah, good point. Garcia is the best.” His eyes closed again, a strangely dreamy smile on his lips. 

“What are you doing?” You kicked him again and his eyes quickly opened and he stared at you.

“Resting, what does it look like?” He scowled.

“Reid, the second the sun goes down the temperature is going to plummet. We need to make a fire.” 

“Goddamnit,” he pushed himself to a sitting position. “I hate the outdoors.” 

You chose to ignore him and didn’t help him to his feet, instead started wandering around in the search for some sticks for the fire. Spencer eventually got himself up and started to help. The sun was barely a sliver in the sky by the time you collected enough wood.

You created a crisscross on the ground with the kindling, explaining to Spencer this type of fire would burn for longer and not need as much wood. You had no idea how long you would be out here and you needed to stay warm. The smoke would also help draw attention to your whereabouts. 

You retrieved a pack of matches from your back, Spencer once again impressed by your preparedness. He simply watched while you went about lighting the fire, in silent awe. It was several minutes before the fire started to grow and he shuffled closer to it, sitting cross legged on the dirty forest floor and holding his hands towards the flames. 

You sat down next to him, but not too close. You got out a fleece hoodie from your bag and slipped it over your head. As if jogging some kind of memory for Spencer he opened his own bag and found his oversized CalTech sweatshirt, thankful he’d had the forethought to pack this even if he had overlooked bringing pants. 

Sitting by the fire you felt the fatigue wash over you. You could quite easily curl up and fall asleep after the day's events. Spencer noticed your fluttering eyelids and how you were desperately trying to stay awake.

He suddenly felt extremely bad for how difficult he’d been all day, complaining and moaning while you tried to keep him safe and alive. He huffed out a breath and the sound caused you to look at him.

Half of his face was illuminated by the glow of the fire, the other side set in deep shadow from where the sun had now almost completely vanished beneath the horizon. His golden brown eyes shimmered as he looked at you.

“I, uh, I’m sorry I’ve been such hard work today.” He rolled his lip between his teeth.

“Reid, I’m used to you being hard work.” Your lip twitched at the corner. 

“I’m sorry about that too.” He swallowed. “Do you…do you want to lay your head down on my lap? You deserve to rest.” 

You frowned a little sceptical, mildly concerned by the offer as Spencer had never been so nice to you. But you were too tired to question it and the idea of laying down sounded wonderful. You nodded slowly, prompting Spencer to uncross his legs and stretch them out in front of himself.

You sucked in a breath, shuffling in the dirt so you could lay on your side with your head in his lap while you stretched your own body out on the ground. 

Without meaning to, Spencer's hand was soon brushing through your hair. You couldn’t help the hum of appreciation that you let escape and it goaded him to continue. 

His touch elicited the sweetest sounds from your lips, some sounding dangerously like moans. Spencer was only human and his body reacted of its own accord at the noises. 

He could sense the blood rushing south, feel the swelling in his shorts despite how much he willed it stop. He stilled his movements on your hair, hoping if you weren’t making those delirious sounds it would stop the blood rushing and he wouldn’t get hard enough for you to notice…

…You suddenly sat up, looking right at him with wide eyes. Of course you’d noticed, his crotch was right beneath your head. 

His cheeks instantly flushed red and he pulled a face full of apologies and mortification. You continued to stare at him and he felt more uncomfortable with each silent second. 

“Please,” he whimpered. “Just…don’t mention it.” 

“Kinda hard not to…pun not intended.” You frowned at your own choice of words and Spencer groaned. 

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “It has been a long time since I’ve had any kind of closeness with another person. I can’t be held responsible for my body’s carnal reactions. Especially when you’re making such sinful noises.” 

Your own cheeks turned red now and you glanced away from him towards the fire. 

“I, uh…I didn’t realise I was. Sorry.” You croaked. “Full disclosure, it’s also been a long time since I’ve had any kind of closeness with another person.” 

Spencer’s brows furrowed as he regarded you. He found that incredibly hard to believe. You were just so beautiful he imagined men fell at your feet everywhere you went. 

“Seriously?” He couldn’t help but ask. 

“Seriously.” You confirmed with a huff as you turned back to him. 

“But why?” 

“Why what? I don’t understand.” 

“I mean…you’re you. You’re beautiful and smart and charismatic. Surely you could have your pick of men?” Spencer was really frowning. 

“I’m…fussy I suppose? And I don’t really like the whole casual sex thing…” You trailed off with your own frown. “Wait did you call me beautiful?”

“And smart and charismatic.” He nodded. 

“Uh, thanks?” You were rightfully confused, Spencer had never said anything nice about you. “What about you? You don’t have women lining up at your door? And weren’t you dating someone?”

Spencer let out a hearty laugh at this, shaking his head dramatically. 

“Max and I broke up not long after Cat and her games. We never…you know…and trust me when I say women do not fawn over a neurotic, socially awkward ex-con.” Spencer sighed sadly. 

“Oh, I didn’t realise about Max, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. It wouldn’t have worked out even if Cat hadn’t interfered.” He pulled a face, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “You didn’t know me before prison. I’m not the same man I used to be. I had to do things on the inside just to survive and it changed me. For a long time I didn’t trust myself to get close to anyone. A part of me still doesn't but I’m trying I guess? Max was the closest I came to allowing myself to be vulnerable again.” 

You simply stared at him, unsure what to say. You’d never spoken so personally with Spencer before, he’d never opened up to you in such a way and you didn’t know how to respond. 

You knew you needed to tread lightly, not wanting to risk him clamming up and shutting you down. You were making progress for the first time since you’d met him and you didn’t want to give him a reason not to continue. 

“I didn’t know you before prison and I have no idea the things you would have gone through in there. But I do know you now. I know you shield yourself behind these huge walls to keep people from hurting you, probably because you’ve already been hurt enough for one lifetime. 

“You kept me at arms length because you don’t like change, you worried I would threaten the team dynamic. But once you realised that wasn’t the case, you were too far gone and it was easier for you to keep treating me with disdain rather than thaw towards me.” 

Spencer was silent while you talked, ingesting your words, mulling them over in his head. His expression tightened, his eyebrows knitted together and his lips drawn into a line. 

“I guess you’re right, at least about some of it.” He exhaled. “I was always guarded to a degree even before prison. People have always disappointed me I guess and so I learnt not to rely on anyone, not to let anyone get too close. It’s easier to be alone than to risk getting hurt. 

“But you’re wrong about why I kept you away. Your comment about me being a mama’s boy stung but I didn’t hold it against you. I needed to put distance between us because from the first time I met you I knew how effortless it would be for me to fall for you.

“I was too raw at the time, I wasn’t ready to give my heart away to someone who might not even want it. I had to keep you at arms length because it was safer than letting myself develop feelings for someone who probably wouldn’t reciprocate. But I guess the jokes on me because my plan was far from foolproof and I managed to fall for you anyway. 

“I don’t expect anything from you in return, and I’m hoping once we’re rescued we can just forget this whole thing ever happened. But I suppose you deserve to know why I am the way I am with you and maybe going forward we can try to be…I don’t know…friends? Or at the very least I hope we can get along better.” He sucked in a breath when he finished speaking, looking completely exhausted and utterly heartbroken.

You couldn’t speak. You took in every single word, toyed with them in your mind and tried to make sense of them. But really they didn’t make any sense. In the year you’d known Spencer you had never even gotten so much as a hint that he had feelings for you. He was detached, withdrawn and oftentimes entirely unapproachable. 

It seemed implausible that he could have been hiding these feelings all this time and for you not to have a clue. You were a profiler, wasn’t it your job to pick up on these things? Did the rest of the team figure it out? Were you the only one in the dark? 

He looked increasingly uncomfortable by his confession with every passing second of silence. The fire crackled, its warmth washing over you both. It cast you both in a cosy glow. 

Spencer seemed closer somehow. Did you move nearer or had he, or was it simply all in your head? 

There were so many things you could say, so many possibilities but you couldn’t form a simple sentence. Every time you tried to speak your words caught in your throat and his own played over in a loop in your brain. 

I guess the jokes on me because my plan was far from foolproof and I managed to fall for you anyway. 

Spencer had feelings for you and he thought you wouldn’t feel the same. Perhaps neither of you were as good at profiling as you thought. 

Spencer rolled his lip between his teeth, growing self conscious in your lack of response. He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it through his nose. 

“I should not have said any of that.” He averted his gaze to the fire. “I don’t even know why I did. Jeez, I’m a moron. Please can you just pretended I didn’t…” 

He trailed off when your hand cupped his chin and you turned him gently to look at you. 

“Yes, you are a moron.” You smiled meekly. “But only because you missed what was right in front of you. How can you think I didn’t feel the same?” 

His mouth fell open, your hand still on his jaw. He blinked rapidly as if trying to clear some kind of fog in his brain. 

“You…I’m confused.” He frowned. 

“Let me clear it up for you then.” You dropped your hand to your side but seconds later your lips crushed against his. 

Spencer gasped at the sudden action, in a million years he never dreamed to actually feel your lips on his. And if he never got this chance again, he was going to make the most of it. 

He raised his hands to cup your face and ran his tongue along your bottom lip, gently asking for passageway. You obliged by parting your lips enough for his tongue to slide inside. 

You were quick to explore the contours of each other's mouths, both of your desperations evident in the way your teeth knocked together while you worked to find your rhythm. 

One of his hands worked its way into the back of your hair and held you firmly as he deepened the kiss further. He pulled you into his lap and you manoeuvred yourself so you were straddling him, kneeling in the dirt either side of his hips. 

He kept one hand cradling your head and the other moved down over your ribs. It dipped beneath the thick fabric of your hoodie, sandwiched between it and your shirt underneath. 

You rocked in his lap, wrapping your arms tightly around neck. The friction caused him to moan languidly into your mouth and it wasn’t long before you felt him growing hard again. 

When he pulled back and opened his eyes, his pupils were blown out, heavy with lust. He was begging you for more without the use of words, he removed one of your hands from around his neck and moved it between your bodies. 

He placed your palm on his rapidly growing erection, rolling his swollen lip with his teeth whilst silently asking if this was okay. You smiled at him and your other hand joined it so you could pop the button of his shorts.

One hand wasted no time in diving straight into his boxers and wrapping around his shaft. You quickly tugged him free of the confines of both his shorts and underwear. 

You sat back a little on your haunches to look down on him. You couldn’t hold back your lamentation as you surveyed every inch of him in your hand. He was long and thick, heavy against your palm. Honestly you hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t this. 

The vein that ran up the underside throbbed as you brushed your thumb over it and he bucked his hips when you moved it to rub over his swollen red tip. You slowly brought your fist all the way back down, squeezing his base whilst nestled in a bed of scratchy pubic hair.

You tore your eyes away from his crotch and looked up to meet his eyes. They held a hint of uncertainty, as though he was worried you wouldn’t like what you saw. Spencer never was blessed with body confidence, he was always too skinny or too tall or too gangly. 

He wasn’t dumb though, he knew that particular appendage was above average. He didn’t have a wealth of sexual experience but he had enough to know that he was often a tight fit for most. But that didn’t stop him from feeling self conscious under your gaze.

The smile on your face and the glint in your eye was enough for him to know that you were pleased by what you’d seen and it allowed him to relax a little. He felt a wave of heat wash over him as your hand slowly started to move and it had nothing to do with his proximity to the fire. 

He wriggled beneath you as you started moving your hand up and down, your thumb brushing over his sensitive head each time. A string of wanton moans left his lips and he was momentarily dumbfounded while you worked him, not able to do anything but sit and relish in this feeling.

Your petite hand couldn’t fit all the way around him but it didn’t make your movements any less mind blowing. He had never been touched like this before, with such a combination of care and desperation. 

Once he got his brain working for long enough to think straight, he moved his hands towards the buttons of your pants. You didn’t let up on your ministrations while he got them undone, swiping your thumb through the precum collecting on his head. 

He swiftly popped the buttons and his right hand dipped inside straight inside your panties. He moaned animalistically when he discovered how wet you were already, the sound dissipating out into the forest. 

You kept eye contact with each other as his fingers slid between your legs, collecting your arousal before moving to settle on your needy clit. You whimpered as he rubbed the sensitive bud with two fingers, rocking against his hand whilst increasing your speed on his cock.

The sounds coming from the both of you were nothing short of feral and became eaten up by the vast woods surrounding you. You grinded against his hand while he flicked your nub deftly, eager to bring you to orgasm.

You returned the favour and matched his speed. The sounds of your arousal and his flesh against yours filled your ears. The fire continued to crackle behind you, casting you in an ethereal glow from where you perched on top of him. 

His chest heaved and his stomach was coiling into thick knots. He wanted this to last forever but knew his orgasm was imminent. It had been all too long since someone had touched him so intimately and it would be impossible to stave off his release for too long.

But judging by the noises you were making, the sinful whines and moans leaving your parted lips and how frantically you bucked against his hand, he assumed you were in the same boat. 

“Jesus, Reid,” you panted heavily. “Who knew you’d be so good at that?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, increasing his speed even further as if to prove that point.

“Likewise.” He replied, whimpering as you swiped your thumb through more beads of precum. 

“I’m so close.” You whined, throwing your head back to your shoulders.

“M-me too.” He stuttered, stomach clenching at the way you twisted your fist around his shaft. 

Somewhere in the distance you heard a twig snap but paid it no attention. You kept your focus here on Spencer, on how he was making you feel and on how you were making him feel. But then you heard another crunch followed by a faint voice.

“Reid? Y/LN?” It called. “I see smoke! That has to be them!”

“Is that…?” Spencer frowned, breathing heavily.

“G-Garcia.” You mumbled. 

“Fuck,” Spencer groaned, his frustration evident.

“Reid? Y/L/N? It’s Penny G, can you hear me, my loves?” 

You and Spencer exchanged a look while you both stilled your movements at the same time. He kept his hand inside your panties while you held the base of his shaft limply. You felt dizzy, you were on the cusp of orgasm, about to fall over the ledge when Garcia’s voice had dragged you back from the brink. Looking at Spencer, he felt much the same.

“Y/L/N, Reid! We’re coming angels!”

“Oof,” Spencer groaned, cautiously withdrawing his hand from inside your pants. “Poor choice of words.” 

You reluctantly let go of his shaft and crawled away from him while you both readjusted yourself and got your pants done up.

“Over here, Garcia.” You called, hoping she didn’t notice the way your voice shook. 

Your body tingled, so close to release a soft breeze could get you there. Spencer pushed himself to his feet, legs shaking and reached out to help you up. He was tenting his shorts, unable to get the blood flowing elsewhere due to how close he’d been. He picked up his backpack and held it in front of him so Garcia wouldn’t notice.

Your underwear was soaked and sticky. You tried to adjust your stance so it was less uncomfortable but it was almost impossible. You could see three flashlights in the distance and the footsteps were growing closer. 

Soon enough Garcia and two park rangers appeared through the thicket. If she noticed the flush of your cheeks she didn’t say anything. She immediately threw her arms around both of you, Spencer cloying to keep his bag as a barrier between himself and the bubbly blonde for fear she might feel his unyielding erection.

“Oh my sweet angels!” She cooed over you both. “Let's get you back to camp and get you warmed up and fed.” 

You both silently agreed and let the rangers lead you back towards a clearing where their vehicle awaited you. Garcia hopped in the backseat first and Spencer held open the door for you, offering a meek smile as you passed him. 

Perhaps it was for the best you’d been interrupted before you could go too far. Perhaps Garcia had inadvertently helped you dodge a bullet.

***

Several hours later after making it back to the camp and feasting on Rossi’s campfire soup and bread and whilst being wrapped in Garcia’s fluffy blankets, one by one the other members of the BAU retired for the night. 

The fire was still dwindling as you perched on a log next to Spencer, silence deafening you once the two of you were alone. You watched the small flames flicker and dance in the soft breeze, soaking up the last of the summer evening before calling it a night yourself.

Before you did, you turned to face him to find he was already looking at you. He smiled softly, a little bashfully and you returned it. Words and emotions bubbled under the surface and neither one of you knew where to start. 

“Some day, huh.” You shrugged, wrapping the blanket tighter around your body.

“It was certainly eye opening.” Spencer agreed.

“It was probably for the best that Garcia and those rangers found us when they did, right?” 

“Oh yeah, for sure. Probably stopped us from doing something even more stupid.” Spencer chuckled nervously. 

“Exactly.” You nodded, getting to your feet. Spencer did the same. “We can just pretend nothing happened. We were tired, probably a little dehydrated. The sun makes us do weird things.” 

“Yeah, the sun.” He nodded too. 

You swallowed thickly, giving him one last look before turning towards your tent. Spencer scuffed the toe of his converse on the ground and found himself speaking again without really meaning to. 

“I mean…it would have been nice to at least finish. I’ve been kinda on edge ever since.” 

You spun back to look at him and he looked so unsure of himself. His hands were in his pockets and his shoulders were pitched up to his ears. 

“Uh, yeah same here.” You took a couple of tentative steps back towards him. “There’s no doubt I could go back to my tent right now and finish what we started alone but…”

“But your hand feels so much better than my own.” Spencer finished for you. 

You both chuckled as you reached him again, letting go of your blanket and letting it fall to the floor so you wrap your arms around Spencer’s neck. 

“It would just be a one time thing.” You whispered, your breath fanning across his face. 

“Even though you don’t like casual sex.” He placed his hands on your hips. 

“Even though I don’t like casual sex.” You repeated. 

“We’re just…two colleagues helping each other.” Spencer smirked, inching his face closer to yours. 

“And if anyone ever found out…” 

“We’d blame the sun. Summer heat got to us.” 

“Summer heat.” You agreed and with that he kissed you again, drawing you into his body whilst tugging you in the direction of his own tent. 

Spencer had never been a fan of summer. But after today he may have been converted. And he was certain this summer heat between you would continue to smoulder through the seasons. 

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 12: The Cabin: Day 5 (pt. 3)

Summary: Soap thinks that taking a walk through the woods is just what you need to help you get over your new fear. Your walk isn’t as pleasant as you hope it’ll be.

Word Count: 5,176

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, angst, strong language, panic attack, arguing

A/N: I didn’t know if this would be ready or not to be posted on time, but I managed to get it done! Please enjoy loves!!

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Bitter Allies • Part 12

This was such a bad idea. Why the hell did you agree to this? The hike was most certainly not helping you overcome your anxieties; it was making them worse. You thought being cornered in the outhouse and standing in the open field was bad, but try walking through thick foliage where you can’t see your surroundings. Your poor heart is doing double-time in your chest, pounding so hard it feels like it might burst.

Soap, oblivious to your mounting dread, is making so much noise as he plows through the brush that you can’t even listen for any potential threats. Every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs sends a jolt of panic through you. The fear in the pit of your stomach is growing stronger with each step. The oppressive canopy above blocks out most of the sunlight, not that it would help to ease your nerves if it didn’t. However, it does make it feel as though the forest is closing in on you, suffocating you with its dense undergrowth and unseen dangers.

About five to ten minutes into the hike, you desperately want to turn back. By now you’ve gone at least a mile, but the feeling is the same. Nothing has happened yet—you haven’t even run into any animals—but that doesn’t help to quell the anxiety flooding your system. It feels like you’re just waiting for something terrible to happen. Just waiting for another bear to catch your scent and come after you.

Like it had that morning you went out by yourself…

A shiver runs along your spine as you recall the feeling of being chased. The heavy, thudding footsteps behind you, the growl that sent you sprinting for your life. That had been your warning, your sign of the dangers waiting in the woods, and you hadn’t listened. Maybe the fear gripping you now was also a warning, screaming at you to head back before it was too late. Your hands tremble slightly, and you clench them into fists to stop them from shaking.

“Holding up back there States?”

You glance up, your teeth releasing their hold on your lip as you meet Soap’s eyes. He’s been walking ahead of you this entire time, leading the way and stomping down the brush for you. You’ve been mostly silent since you left the cabin. The only communication you’ve had since you left are moments like this where he’s just checking to make sure you’re still following him and not completely breaking down.

“Yep, just peachy.” You tell him, the answer seeming to be enough to satisfy him for the next few minutes. He turns forward again and keeps on going.

As you continue trudging through the forest, your mind races with what-ifs. What if a bear does come? What if you can’t handle it? What if this hike is just a terrible mistake? You should just go back now… give up and-

No.

You were not going to just give up and quit. That stubborn, won’t quit attitude had gotten you through a lot during your time in the military. It was the very thing that kept you in the Task Force despite how much of an ass Soap was.

You can do this… you can push through it.

“Hey Soap,” you start, hoping that talking might help distract you. The only problem is, you don’t know exactly what to talk about. “Uh… do you know where we’re going?” You settle on.

“Course.” Soap answers easily, not even so much as glancing over his shoulder at you. “I know of a few bear caves around here that we can-“

“Are you fucking serious?!” You shout at him, stopping immediately in your tracks. The thought of walking to the den of a bear, practically handing yourself over on a silver platter, is enough to make you want to ditch Soap and bolt. He can’t be serious.

At your outburst, Soap instantly turns around, his eyes locking onto yours. He sees the panic glazing over your eyes and immediately raises his hands in a gesture of surrender, his expression shifting from confusion to concern in a heartbeat.

“I’m kidding! Just joking! Fucking hell, States. I don’t know of any bear caves around here.” Soap's quickly says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

“Don’t fucking do that! My God, you’re going to give me a fucking heart attack!” You shout, your voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger, fists clenched at your sides. You were stressed enough as it was, you didn’t need him saying shit that was only going to add to that stress.

Soap gives you an exasperated look, his mouth hanging open just a bit. “Fuck’s sake! It was a joke! Lighten up!” He snaps back, his initial confusion giving way to irritation.

“It’s not funny!” You retort, your own anger only growing the more defensive he gets.

“Oh come on. Anyone else would have taken that as a joke.” Soap's tone turns sharper, his frustration evident as he glares at you.

You’re steaming now, fists clenched at your sides. The fear that had been bubbling under the surface is now mixed with a growing anger. Your heart is pounding, not just from the anxiety of being out in the woods, but from the frustration of dealing with Soap’s insensitivity. You already felt vulnerable and on edge, you don’t want to have to deal with Soap being a total ass as well.

“Really? Forgive me for not wanting to laugh about walking into the home of the animal that almost took my life. I’m already freaking out about seeing one out here, so what makes you think I’d find that funny? This isn’t a joke to me, and I don’t want to joke about it.”

Soap rolls his eyes right back at you. “We haven’t even seen anything yet. You’re working yourself up over nothing.“

“Nothing?” You snap back. “It’s not nothing to me!”

“Well, it needs to be,” Soap retorts, his tone firm. “The 141 doesn’t get hung up over stuff like this.”

You feel another surge of anger rush through you at his words. “Easy for you to say! You weren’t the one with a bear practically on top of you, trying to claw and bite your face off.”

“And you think I haven’t faced things just as bad, if not worse?” Soap counters, stepping closer and invading your space. “I can tell you this, States. I have faced much worse than something like a bear! If you’re this freaked out over a little joke, maybe you should reconsider if you’re cut out for the military.”

His words cut deep, reopening old wounds. From the beginning, Soap has always been trying to get you kicked off the Task Force. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s told you that you should quit. Hell, he’d even told Price to get rid of you while you were in the room with him.

You stare at him for a long moment, disbelief mingling with hurt. “Is making me quit all you ever think about?”

Soap’s expression hardens. “Maybe I wouldn’t if you didn’t keep proving to me that you should.”

You bite your cheek harshly. “If my fear of a bear that nearly killed me is a reason enough that I should quit, then what about your fear of thunder? Shouldn’t freaking out over that mean you should quit too?”

Your words are met with a confused expression from Soap. It’s like he doesn’t remember having a full blown panic attack the day it stormed.

“What?” He finally says after a moment of not being able to figure out where you got that idea from. “The fuck you talking about? I don’t have a fear of thunder.”

You roll your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest. “What do you mean? Yes you do. You don’t remember that big storm that rolled in like the first or second day we were here? It was thundering so loudly, and you had an episode. How can you not remember that?”

Soap is silent another moment while he thinks back. He opens his mouth to reply, but then shuts it, his face shifting as he figures out what you were referring to. However to you, it looks like he realized his argument was flawed and is now trying to come up with some kind of excuse. He couldn’t tell you to get over his irrational fear if he had an irrational fear himself.

“I-I’m not scared of thunder. That’s not what I was…” He trails off, further adding to your suspicion.

“Really? If you’re not scared of thunder, then why the hell were you freaking out like that?”

Soap is silent for a moment, his eyes distant. You think for a moment he’s trying really hard to come up with an excuse, but when you really look, his eyes look slightly glazed over and there’s a pinch of worry between his brow. It’s almost like he’s actively reliving something. His thoughts are racing, though with what, you aren’t sure. The silence stretches on and almost begins to get uncomfortable. You’re about to say something, but Soap finally speaks up.

“It wasn’t the thunder…” He finally says, his voice tight. “Just... let it go, alright?”

You scoff at him. “Let it go? So you can give me shit about being scared of a bear, but you can have some irrational fear yourself, and it’s just fine? You’re allowed to be scared and have stuff freak you out but I can’t?”

Soap instantly snaps back, his voice firm and defensive. You’ve hit a sore spot.

“What happened that night it stormed was different! Alright!? What happened to me is nothing like what happened to you and that bear. I actually got fucking hurt! All that bear did was fucking growl at you and threaten you, I took fucking glass to the face.”

He points at his face, specifically more towards his chin than any other area. Your glare dips down to where he’s pointing, naturally locking on to the now faded, but still visible scar that runs along his chin.

You follow the thick, long scar that runs in a jagged horizontal line below his lip. It was his most noticeable scar and one that you’d always been curious as to how he got it. Apparently there was quite the story to go along with it. You always imaged he’d got it from some kind of explosion to the face, though he didn’t sport any burn scars that would support that theory. It was far too complex to be from a knife, but a shard of glass made perfect sense.

He must have been tortured. Maybe at some point in his career, he’d been a POW and gotten tortured for information. You did not put it past the enemy to go to any means necessary to get information. Using broken glass off the ground to slice someone up for military secrets was quite a common tactic too. Soap’s files didn’t say anything about him ever being taken hostage though. Then again, it could have been something that had been redacted. A lot of the things in his files regarding missions were heavily redacted.

You don’t focus too heavily on his comment about the broken glass though. That was something you could table for a little later. Right now you’re far too upset that he’s completely dismissing your own fears just because he’s seen worse.

“So would my fear be more valid then if I had gotten hurt? Almost getting hurt isn’t enough to justify having a fear of something? Whatever the fuck happened to you, it would have been absolutely nothing if your precious face hadn’t gotten cut up?”

Soap tenses up, his voice dropping a few octaves and taking on a dangerous drawl. His entire body goes rigid, and his fists clench as his sides. “States, you have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, so I suggest you shut the hell up.”

He’s probably right. You have no idea the kind of things he’s been through, so you shouldn’t be making assumptions without knowing the full story. But you’re so angry with him right now that you can’t bring yourself to care.

“And you have no idea how I feel, so you can shut up too!” You shout back at him, and his eyes ignite with anger. You can practically see the spark before it flares up, and you’re sure he can see the same thing happening in yours.

His inhales sharply through his mouth prepared to absolutely lay into you, but before he can, you notice his eyes flicker away from yours for a moment. They quickly snap back to you, but then look away once again, his mouth slowly closing. At first, you don't think much of it, but then the hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand up. Your body senses danger before your mind can process it.

The anger drains from you in an instant, replaced by a growing unease as you try to understand why Soap isn’t looking at you anymore and why you suddenly feel so on edge. Then Soap says the most panic inducing words, his voice dropping to an unnaturally calm level after the shouting he’d been doing not a second prior.

“States, listen to me, do not panic.“

You feel yourself instantly freeze. Usually when someone tells you not to panic it’s because there’s a reason you should be. The nagging feeling of danger intensifies, your hands almost feeling numb from the rush of sudden adrenaline.

“What? Why?” You ask softly, mouth quickly going dry.

“Don’t turn around, don’t freak out.” He tells you carefully, eyes staying mostly locked off somewhere behind you now. “Just walk over to me, lass.”

“Is it a bear?” You ask bluntly, feeling your whole back tense up. You want so so badly for him to say no. You wouldn’t care if he was joking. You wouldn’t even care if it was any other animal, just not a bear. Not right now.

“Yes, it is. Just stay calm.” He reaches out to grab your arm, but you move it away from him, hugging it to your chest instead.

“No… no please…” Tears start to blur your vision. “Tell me you’re joking. Please. This is a joke, right?” You feel yourself starting to shake. You so desperately want him to be kidding. “I swear to God if there isn’t a bear, I’m going to kill you.”

“I swear to you, I’m being serious, lass.” He insists.

You want to call his bluff, convinced for a moment that he's just being an asshole and there really isn't a bear. But then you hear it—the sound of something big moving slowly and deliberately. Each step is measured and heavy, rustling the foliage on the forest floor. You hear a snorting sound, similar to the one that the bear at the lake had made as it sniffed the air. Your heart skips a beat as the reality sinks in: there really is something behind you.

You feel the panic set in, your body simultaneously hot and cold. Adrenaline surges through your veins, making your hands both numb and hypersensitive. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can hear the blood as it rushes through your ears. Your breathing starts to quicken, shallow bursts as your mind races. Every muscle in your body tenses, poised for action, wanting to bolt and create distance between you and the thing behind you, but also frozen in fear.

“States…” Soap says, almost in warning. He’s trying to watch you while also trying to keep an eye on the animal behind you. “Please, just walk over to me.”

You want to do as he says, but first you just need to see for yourself. You need to know there really is something behind you.

“Don’t.” Soap warns, almost like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You don’t listen though. Gathering any remnants of courage you had left, you take a deep breath and start to slowly peak over your shoulder. And there, a few feet away, is a black bear. You don’t give yourself proper time to really look at it. The second your peripheral vision spots it, your terrified gaze snaps back to Soap.

Your eyes lock onto Soap's, breathing picking up now that it’s been confirmed. You want to scream and cry out, but you’re too scared to even do that. “Soap…” You sob, making him just reach out for you instead of continuing to wait for you to come to him.

He grabs ahold of your arm firmly, gently and slowly pulling you close to him. “Shh, it’s alright, come here.” He says as he moves an arm to wrap around you. It’s surprisingly comforting to feel him holding you. Your bickering, all the things that were said, are momentarily forgotten.

“Just stay clam, it’s gonna be ok.” He mutters to you, and you nod, more out of instinct than understanding. You’re a bit more focused on listening for the bear than you are to Soap’s words.

You try to sneak another look at the animal, only really wanting a quick glance, but Soap takes that opportunity to turn you fully so that you’re facing it. His hands settle on your hips to keep you in place, and your breath hitches as your eyes land on the bear. On instinct, you press back firmly into Soap, his chest acting as a solid wall to keep your from moving any further.

“I’m right here.” Soap reminds you, whispering softly into your ear. “Not gonna let anything happen to you.” He promises, thumbs brushing softly against your hips, though you can hardly focus on that right now. Still, his presence alone is grounding. Feeling him behind you, him holding you tightly, it reminds you that you’re not alone.

Facing the bear now, you can finally take in the scene before you. The bear is a few yards away, its black fur glistening in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. It’s a smaller bear, not as large as the one that attacked you, but the sight of it still sends a jolt of fear through you. Its eyes are fixed on you, nostrils flaring as it sniffs the air. The memory of the bear in the lake doing the same thing before it approached you flashes through your mind.

Your heart pounds faster, and you feel your breathing stutter. For a moment, you're back there, alone and vulnerable, with the bear bearing down on you. Stalking towards you, about to strike.

Then you feel Soap give your hips a squeeze, and his voice cuts through the haze of fear. “It’s okay, States. It’s just passing by. It’s more scared of us. It doesn’t want anything to do with us.”

His voice brings you back to the present, and you shake your head a bit to focus on what’s happening right now. “Look at it,” he whispers softly in your ear. “It’s just curious. It’s not here to hurt us. Not all bears are aggressive.”

The bear takes a tentative step forward, then pauses, its ears twitching. You tense the second it moves, and Soap’s arm around you tightens slightly, a subtle reassurance. “Stay calm. It’s going to move on. Just keep breathing.”

The bear snorts, shaking its head before taking another step. You can tell that its muscles are tense under its fur. It takes a few more steps, its eyes never leaving yours as it slowly moves. A deep growl rumbles in its chest, and you are tempted to take a step back, but you can’t with Soap standing directly behind you.

“Don’t back away.” He tells you gently, able to feel the muscles in your back twitch against his chest. “If it starts to come this way, wave your arms above your head and shout at it. Just like I showed you.”

“I don’t think I can.” You whisper back to him. Your mouth is so dry, and it feels like your throat has completely sealed itself off. Even talking was a challenge, and your voice already sounded weaker and slightly hoarse.

“You can, States. You can do this.” He encourages you.

The bear takes a few more steps, still just trying to move perpendicularly past you, but it stops once more to huff softly. When you don’t react to it, it takes a small steps towards you, its head lowered cautiously, but eyes still fixed on you.

“It’s not being aggressive, it’s just curious. Just tell it to go away. Nice and firm.” Soap whispers to you.

You take a deep breath, trying to gather any bit bravery you had. “Go away.” You say, voice a bit wobbly, but still managing to be firm.

The bear hesitates, lifting its head a bit as you speak to it. Its glossy eyes keep locked on you, and it starts to sniff the air once more. Speaking just seemed to make it more curious. It takes another step forward, and you feel Soap’s grip tighten again.

“Alright, it’s getting too curious now. Gotten show it you’re not something to mess with. Get loud now, wave your arms and yell. Make yourself big.” Soap instructs, his voice steady. He’s not panicked at all, or at least he’s not showing it. “Do it now, States. Nice and loud.”

You take a deep breath, trying your best to push down all the anxiety eating away at your courage. Drawing on every ounce of strength you can muster, you raise your arms above your head and yell.

“Ahh!! Go away! Get out of here!”

The bear stops, taken aback by your sudden outburst. It jolts back, retreating a few feet away before stopping and looking back at you. Its ears are standing straight up, its eyes widen in surprise. You can see its hesitation, its uncertainty.

“Good, again!” Soap encourages softly from behind you.

“Go! Get out of here! Go away!” You shout again, making it jump again. This time, it turns and bolts, clearly not wanting to mess with you.

You watch as it crashes through the foliage, moving quickly to get away from you and Soap. Your arms stay raised while you watch it run off, only becoming heavy and dropping once the sounds of the leaves rustling fade into the distance. Your eyes stayed locked on the path it took, froze in shock for few seconds.

When it finally registers that it’s gone, you can feel your entire body become suddenly exhausted. You let out all the air in your lungs and sink back. You probably would have fallen to the ground if Soap hadn’t been behind you. He instantly wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly to him.

“Oh fuck...” You curse, making Soap laugh. “It-It’s gone, right?” You ask hesitantly. It was like your brain hadn’t fully processed what happened yet.

“Yes, it’s gone. You did it, States! It’s not gonna be coming back, you scared it.” He chuckles, his tone becoming light and filled with genuine joy. It felt like he was proud of you, excited that you’d been able to scare the animal off.

“Holy shit...” You curse again, still trying to wrap your head around it. And when it finally sinks in, you feel a rush of relief wash over you. Your body starts to tremble, not from fear, but from the overwhelming realization that you did it. You managed to scare off a bear. It’s a mix of pride, disbelief, and a strange sense of empowerment. You did it. You really did it.

“I did it...” You mutter, smiling as your shoulders behind to feel lighter.

“Hell yeah you did!” Soap laughs from behind you, giving you a squeeze. “You did fucking great! You just stood your ground against a bear!”

“Yeah! I… I….”

The intensity of the moment finally catches up to you. All the fear, the tension, and the adrenaline suddenly give way to a flood of emotions. You feel a lump form in your throat, and your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes. The relief is so overwhelming, it’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you can't hold back any longer.

You begin to cry, tears streaming down your face as you let out any remaining pent-up emotions. It’s relief, and stress, and joy, and shock, and pride. It feels good to let it all out, your body shaking as it releases everything through your tears.

Soap’s laughter quickly fades when he hears your sobs. He pauses for a second and then quickly turns you around to face him, concern etched across his face. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He asks, his voice soft and full of worry.

You try to speak, but it just comes out as a jumbled mess. The words catch in your throat, choked by the intensity of your emotions. You want to let him know you’re fine, but you just can’t get the words to come out. The more you struggle to speak, the more worried and confused he looks.

“Fucking hell, States, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Soap whispers, rubbing your arms soothingly. “You’re safe now. You did it. You faced your fear. The thing ran off.”

You nod at him, that being the only way you know how to communicate. Finally though, you manage to settle enough get a few words out. “I’m fin-e… j-just hap-py...” You choke out. “I-I feel b-better.”

Soap has to strain a bit to hear what you were saying, but he gathers just enough to make out what you said. It makes his shoulder relax and the worry lines in his face soften. He lets out a relieved sigh, hands dropping from your arms so they can run through his hair.

“Steaming Jesus. Thought you were going insane or something. Shite. I never know what it means when you start balling.”

You start to calm down, laughing a little at the poor man’s distress. Taking a few deep breaths, you steady your breathing and wipe at your eyes to dry them. “I mean I very well might be.” You giggle softly. “I’ve been hanging around you for five days, that would drive anyone insane.”

Soap scoffs at you, but there’s a smile on his face that he can’t hide. “You sound like Ghost.”

“Well, good to know it’s not just me who thinks that.”

“Oh shut your mouth.” Soap grumbles, giving you a light shove and making you laugh again. “That what I get for helping you? Should have just let the bear eat you if that’s the case.” He mutters, arms crossed over his chest as if he’s pouting at your teasing. “I am only kidding of course too, yeah?” He adds, making your laughter fade.

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh, feeling a little guilty now about earlier. Soap had always been the guy on the team to make jokes and lighten the mood when things got too serious. That’s all he’d been trying to do earlier, and you snapped at him for it.

In your defense, you had been horribly stressed out, but that didn’t give you permission to lash out at Soap. He’d only been trying to help you this whole time, both last night and this morning. Of course that didn’t excuse him from lashing out at you in return, but you could understand why he did. You would have done the same thing if you were him.

“Hey, I… I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. When you made the joke about the bear caves. I was just really stressed out, and I feel a little bad now. I know you’re just trying to help and… well I appreciate it.”

Soap blinks at you in surprise. He looks shocked that you’re apologizing, though to be fair, normally you didn’t go around saying sorry to each other. That was something that only started happening recently.

“Oh, you know it’s… it’s whatever, really.” He stammers, clearly taken aback. “I shouldn’t have said the things I said either. So I’m sorry too.”

You smile at him, watching as he rubs at the back of his neck. You can feel your heart softening just a bit for him. “Thank you for that, Soap.”

Soap gives you an awkward smile back, nodding his head a bit. Neither of you are great with apologies. It feels unnatural for both of you, and it’s quickly starting to get a bit awkward.

“Well… Should we head back? Or did you want to go explore a bear cave?” You try to joke, which earns a laugh from Soap.

“I think I’ve had enough of bears for a good while, so I think I’ll pass.” He smirks, able to look back at you now. “But hey, if you wanna go though, by all means don’t let me hold you back.”

You giggle softly, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m alright. I think I’d rather just go back to the boring ol’cabin. I’m getting hungry anyway.”

“You hungry now?” He questions. “I packed us both a lunch since I didn’t know how long we’d be out here. And I know this really nice spot where we can stop and eat.” He says, which surprises you. Not that he’d packed a lunch—you were aware of that. What surprises you is that he’s suggesting you both go out and eat instead of going back.

“Really?” Ask before you can stop yourself. It makes Soap pause, his expression shifting just a bit.

“I mean unless you don’t want to. We can just head back if you’d rather do that.”

“No! No, I think eating out here would be fun. I haven’t been able to do too much exploring, and I could use a break from just hanging around the cabin all day.” You quickly say before he can change his mind. “Lead the way.”

Soap watches you for a moment, almost like he’s trying to figure out if you really wanted to go or not. He makes up his mind in a second and starts back the way you came. “Alright, follow me. We’re only about five minutes away at most.” He says, and you quickly rush to fall into step beside him.

A comfortable silence falls between you like it had before, though this time as you follow him, the tension and fear from earlier are gone. All your anxiety has seemingly melted away. The natural sounds of the forest no longer bother you, and even the thought of running into another bear isn’t as terrifying as it was when you first left. It’s a relief to be able to walk around without feeling the need to constantly be on alert. You just hope it stays that way.

[grimesgirll]

you'd been begging daryl to take you hunting.

"why don't you take her?" rick implored. "she's not a bad shot."

"we'd be bowhunting, not rifle hunting." daryl distinguishes with a grunt.

"i can learn," you assure him, holding your compound bow in your hands. "technically, i've been shooting since i was seven."

"once a summer for fifteen minutes while peddling cookies," he states.

"c'mon, she learned a lot at camp." rick rebuts, grinning at you. "right, doll, didn't you learn how to build a fire and purify water?" you nod. "none of us have frozen to death or gotten diphtheria yet, so i'd say you should at least give her archery skills a chance."

"please?" you borderline beg, breath hitching as you see your morning not going how you planned. "i really wanna learn to track."

daryl doesn't say anything, just looks from you to the bow in your hand. rick interrupts whatever thoughts he has with a sigh. "daryl, why don't ya just take her? she clearly wants to go with you." he gestures to you. "how can you say no to her when she's asking so nicely? unless you think it's too hairy for her out there and we should just spend the day tucked inside here."

you whine at the idea. you want to be outside.

that spurs daryl into saying a rushed, "grab your heavy coat and your arrows."

you grin at rick who despite assisting in your victory, looks disappointed that you'll be gone for the day. while daryl is busy grabbing his crossbow, you slink over to rick, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“thanks,” you seal your gratitude with a kiss.

he wraps a firm arm around you. "you're welcome, sweetheart," your leader punctuates with a hand dug in your hair while he brings your face to his. you almost don't notice daryl until he's huffing by the doorway and you're kissing rick goodbye one last time and scrambling to grab your bow before dashing out the door after your boyfriend.

gone from alexandria, you and daryl take off on foot towards what he’d described as the best hunting grounds in the nearest fifty miles.

"be sure to quiet down," daryl tells you, abstaining from cringing as your boots crunch every leaf on the forest floor beneath them.

"sorry," you giggle. you try to quell your footsteps but it's hard when you're so captivated by the beauty of the woods.

before everything happened with the dead walking, you loved being outside. growing up in scouts and regularly camping had turned you into someone who was all too reckless outside for their knowledge of the woods. yes, you knew that predators and walkers lurked around every corner out here but you just want to crane your neck and stare at the sky through the trees, or let your eyes wander over the meandering streams.

that's why daryl is watching you like a hawk.

years of tracking has made him hip to everything going on around him. truth be told, if anyone or anything were on your trail, you were a dead giveaway. stomping about the way you are, you're bound to scare off any small game but he's trying to be patient with you. it's not like you had to keep it down at your hippie dippie kumbaya girl scout camp or on sunlit afternoon hikes. daryl, on the other hand, moved about undetected like it was second nature. had to be quiet if you wanted to actually to leave the forest with a meal.

he's watching you and the woods just to be safe. it's hard not getting distracted by you the way you're getting all caught up in the trees and the vivid greenery surrounding you.

the sight of you; pink lips parted just slightly with your head tipped all the way back to look for bird nests have his jeans getting cramped. you're just so excited to be outside.

it's not like you don't go on walks every day in alexandria with judith or join them on occasional outings beyond the walls. there's just not as much room for you to leave with how dangerous even just scavenging is turning out to be, so it's harder to get you out for a remote nature walk.

"what're we tracking for?" you ask.

daryl pushes a branch out of the way, holding it back as you pass under before catching up. "whatever you don't scare away with all that noise."

you snort. "so no deer?"

the redneck laughs. "not with the way you're tramping through here."

"what about pheasants?" you question, tiptoeing over a particularly rocky section of daryl's trail. "or do we need dogs to find them?"

"you don't need no damn dog to hunt pheasants."

"a decoy?"

"you just gotta' be patient." he clicks his tongue. "but it's not like you'd know anything about that." you let out a small whine and his breath hitches.

"just askin'."

"i know, girl."

"so what're you shooting for?"

daryl shrugs. "think' we can probably find something further up the ridge. rabbit, squirrel, something 'for you to aim at."

you nod and knock an arrow. following your boyfriend as he takes you past one of his favorite creeks outside of alexandria, leading the way as you pad along on the forest floor behind him.

your shotgun is slung on your back in its strap, understudying the compound bow you’d dug out of the armory. there were many fewer bow users in the apocalypse than there should’ve been. for every bow hunter, there were fifteen idiots blowing off the head of whatever or whoever they encountered with some barely functional, scavenged handgun. maintaining the skill and the arrows for a bow wasn't necessarily for the lazy.

you really didn't have much experience with archery or hunting for that matter. rick joked that you were a duck hunter but that had been dumb luck. while scavenging for gas along a riverside park, you'd seen some geese and fired your shotgun. rick couldn't be upset about the noise when your impulsive assault on the waterfowl was what filled your stomachs that night. and as a reward, rick filled you up just the way you liked it that night.

you'd go out firing on random flocks of geese more if it meant rick would fuck you the way he did that night. you were losing your mind - putty in his hands - from all the praise. his good girl who shot their dinner. marking every thrust with more praise.

the naughty bundle of nerves between your legs awakens at the thought of receiving the same treatment from daryl. he didn't love spanking your ass red or doling out punishments like rick, but you wanted to see his face after you caught something. after you shoot a deer with your bow. he would be so proud of you, giving you a celebratory kiss before helping you field dress your harvest.

whatever route daryl is following takes on an impressive incline, giving way to a fragmented vista of the tiny green valley. you wish you had binoculars. once your eyes stop scanning the sky for hawks, an auburn mess of hair catches your eye. even through his black windbreaker, you can see the outline of his muscles along his back. his form and thoughts of him taking you up against a tree cloud your brain until you hear your name.

"yeah," you answer, looking up at daryl who's stopped to pause below a short, dense pine. he motions for you to squat with him and you do, settling into a perched position with your loaded bow sat on your knees.

“right here is the perfect pass along the ridge to come up and over the mountain,” daryl explains, blue eyes catching a bit of sunlight. “a bunch of game will be scampering around as the day goes on. won’t see any deer right before noon though. not that they’d wanna walk up here with your loud ass.”

you snicker before sending him an apologetic look. “sorry, dare’. i’m not used to being quiet like that.”

i know, baby, he wants to say but just points to your knocked arrow. “wanna have that ready. never know when a squirrel’ll come skippin’ by.”

“yes, sir,” you croon, smirking at the way his eyes darken and he playfully ruffles your hair.

settling into a cozy state of surveillance, your eyes start to droop. rick had kept you up after daryl went to bed. this was before you woke up with the urge to accompany daryl on his hunt, so you probably only got four or five hours of sleep. typical rick keeping you up with sweet temptations like his hands on your breasts, his warm mouth on your torso, licking down to your clit and reigniting that fire that’s consumed your core earlier in the night.

you start to feel it stirring when your mind wanders to the man sitting beside you. you smile sweetly at him when he catches your gaze and ask an innocent question about pheasant hunting again that breaks the silence.

then you’re relaying the story about the time your cousin fell out of his tree stand after one too many beers.

daryl guffaws. “that’s some’ shit merle would do.”

"yeah, it was pretty stupid of him."

the quiet returns. you sigh. the silence meant to lull the local game into a false sense of security is boring you. you came out here for some one on one time with daryl and to learn to track, not to sit in silence in the cold for god knows how long.

you close the distance between you and daryl. tucking yourself into his side, you earn a look from him. "i'm cold," you commiserate.

the archer has to look away from your doe eyes to keep his zipper from popping. he mentally debates pulling you closer until he gives in and tugs you to his chest, ruining your position holding your bow.

both of you know you’re eventually going to do what you do best in the cold; get distracted by warming each other up. it’s evident from how you sink back further against daryl. nonchalant even when you feel his hardness against your ass.

“feeling warmer,” you update him.

“good,” he murmurs when you press your head back to his chest. you feel warmer; despite your layers, daryl has gotten your core going enough for you to feel it from head to toe.

you imagine a wave of pleasure, not just flickering body heat as you turn around and face his groin on your knees.

“not out here,” he mutters with a gasp of your name. his belt falls and your hands start on his zipper, progressing the metal zip all the way down until a sturdy hand grabs yours. “don’t you wanna catch something?” he reminds you of the reason you even trekked up here.

you shake your head yes.

“then what’s this all about?”

you roll your eyes. “dare’, I’m bored!”

“i told you that half’a hunting is waitin’!” daryl chides, pushing your hands down.

tears well in your eyes. the older man exhales; he’s fucked.

“dare’-,”

“don’t you start.” he tells you, grasping your chin in his hand and leaning down to kiss you. you tilt upwards eagerly into the kiss from the pine needle littered ground. “you’re gonna scare anything left up here.”

daryl disconnects from you when your bow is lowered to the ground. his thumb slips into your mouth and without hesitation, you treat his thumb to the same treatment he’d gotten last night.

it’s not long before he’s finally saying, “fuck it!” declaring out loud what you’ve been yearning for the entire morning.

with another smirk, you strip him of his pants until he’s popping out of his boxers. your mouth is on him an instant - it’s cold after all. first thing, you envelope him in your mouth, pulsing downstairs again when his hands find warmth in your hair. you don’t need him to guide your head down to the base of your cock for you to take him into your throat.

the black shotgun you’d proudly toted - even after it’d been confiscated at terminus - is deposited hap-hazardously on the ground while your bow is on the other side of your legs. daryl’s ditched his crossbow at this point, opting to explore the far reaches of your throat with his cock while the bow stands against the other side of the tree.

your boyfriend’s breath hitches again. you overfill as much of his cock as you can into your mouth until you slide yourself up and off, taking a break to catch your breath.

fucked out and face flush in spite of the cold, daryl is pleasantly surprised when you dive down to pay his balls some serious attention. you loll each one into your mouth, leisurely progressing up his length with gentle licks until you’re gingerly kissing the head, locking eyes with him.

disregarding the chill beneath your knees, you dip your mouth down on him again, licking a new trail up his rock hard cock. thinking about how painful it must be in this cold, you give into him when he thrusts into your mouth.

hands in your hair, daryl is in heaven. getting head under the trees? sign him the fuck up. you two have fooled around outside before of course but that wasn't usually by choice. without having to worry about a horde of walkers hot on your trail or horrors like cannibals hunting you, he could lean back and just enjoy the sight of you between his legs, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock.

for a moment, he worries that the sounds you make as you swallow his length will attract walkers but he's too hard to care. you bob up and down, trying to take more of him each time. his hands guide you until he's bucking in your mouth and feel him spill down your throat.

daryl's gonna have to take you hunting more often.

[branches-in-a-flood]

Lost but Found

Time to post my ST Tumblr Gift Exchange gift for Wolfie! @pastlivesxpastlie

Under the cut there's a little fic of CryptidVessel and a very confused, slightly lost reader. I hope you enjoy it (and if not, absolutely feel free to message me and we can come up with something you love!)

You can't believe that a mental health walk has turned into this. You just wanted to go out, spend some time surrounded by trees, look at some birds and flowers, and get out of your head for a while. Instead, you're trying to figure out how you've hit mile marker 5 in what was labeled as a 3 mile trail, and how the way back looks nothing like the way you just came.

The path you literally just walked had been lined with tall grasses on either side, the occasional mid-sized tree breaking up the sea of brush. Looking back now, the grass gives way to old growth within 50 yards. There's no way you could have missed an entire section of forest while you were walking, could you? There's not paying attention to your surroundings and getting lost in your head, and then there's completely getting lost on a trail with no idea how you got there. But there's only one path, so you shake your head at your inattentiveness and start the hike back home.

Ancient-looking oaks crowd the trail on either side, creating a canopied tunnel through the forest. Strange that you would have ignored this the first time through. Stranger still, that you don't remember what thoughts had been taking your attention so completely. You'll just have to be more present this time around, you consider, before you notice a flash of pale stone against the dark trunks and foliage a ways off the trail. A small pile of stone block, possibly the remains of a foundation sit in a clearing just past the line of trees. Sense tells you to ignore the finding and stay on course, but curiosity wins out and you find yourself climbing through the sparse underbrush for a closer look.

Nearing the ruins, the trees thin to reveal a field of grass and wildflowers with a large ring of mushrooms growing beside the old building. You laugh slightly, thinking this is too perfect. You've gotten lost in the woods, found a mysterious ruin, and it just so happens to have a fairy circle. The next logical step, of course, is to step into the very center.

Nothing changes. Well. Not nothing, exactly. The cottage is standing, no longer a ruined mass of stone. There is a wisp of smoke curling from the chimney and you can't help but stifle a shocked bark of laughter. What even, you think. I've started hallucinating. That is your sole thought, repeated even louder inside your mind as you see a large set of antlers rounding the corner of the house. I'm hallucinating I'm HALLUCINATING I'mhallucinating -

You open your eyes, unaware you had closed them, to an entirely unexpected sight. What you assumed would be an out of place, confused red deer, is in fact an out of place, confused, uh, something?

The being stands only a few feet from the cottage, clearly shocked to see someone so near as it came around the edge of the building. The antlers that caught your attention are astounding; at least as wide as the creature is tall, palmate and thinning to four long tines on each side. Several shorter brow tines create the effect of a crown over the surface of its skeletal head. Six empty eye sockets gaze back at you in what you can only guess is the same abject confusion you are feeling. It's a little hard to read emotion on what appears to be the skull of a long-dead stag. You blink as that thought settles further into your consciousness. Six eyed stag head. Got it.

You continue to take in the rest of the entity before you, even if your mind is starting to lag with the processing needed. The body of this beast is consistent with a human shape, though the limbs seem less proportional the longer you stare. The skin is stained black with a supernatural intensity. The being's robes seem to be the most expected part of this entire image. Strange deer-people would be the types to wear occultish robes, your brain helpfully chimes in. Try as you might, you can't find anything to refute that thought.

The two of you continue to stare, unmoving, for a long moment. Sparks of logical thought try to break free - have you stumbled upon a lost LARPer? A cryptid photoshoot? But that's no mask. There's no way someone could support six and a half feet of antler on their head. How long are those arms? This is not right.

"Uh," your voice comes out higher than normal, cracking into a bit of a squeak. "So. Wh-"

Vessel

The word is in your head, as though this is something you've known for years. It doesn't really answer the question though.

"Right, yea. Is that. Is that your name? Or is it what-"

It is.

Stellar. The clarification avoids making the situation any clearer. This seems like something you should have expected from stepping into a fairy circle, you think.

The creature has taken a hesitant step closer, tilting the massive skull to address you more directly.

How have you found yourself in this place?

And isn't that a good question. Obviously you're here because you decided to say "to hell with it" and walk into a circle of fungi, like you have several other times in fits of whimsy, but that hardly explains how you're now face to sternum with what you can only think to describe as an old forest god. Portals, maybe. Some sort of mycelial network?

"Not sure," you take a deep breath, "I, um. I crossed into a circle of mushrooms? And then I was here?" You think you've lost the ability to speak in full sentences, but at least you're mostly keeping it together. Or you're actually lying on the side of the trail and having some sort of nervous breakdown. Either option seems very possible.

The creature hums, one hand coming up to tangle in the chains resting on its chest. Both of you are uncertain, then. Vessel turns to head back around the stone home, antlers dipping to either side with each step. You open your mouth to ask what he's doing, but are cut off.

Follow.

What other option do you have, really? Your brain is coming back up to speed with the situation and questions are tumbling in. As you jog to catch up with his sweeping strides, you start to voice them.

"Where, exactly, is "here?" Is this a time-slip? A different dimension? Who -no- what are you? Is this real? Am I hallucinating? How are you real? Can I go back home? Are you fae? Are the fae real? Fuck, am I stuck here fo-"

Silence. Vessel swings his head to look at you, still walking toward what you now see is an expansive garden tucked behind the cottage. He pauses for a moment. I suspect you are here to worship, but I must not assume. Sit.

Alright. You feel your legs fold to deposit you on the ground at the border of the garden. There are several other hooded figures moving between plots, some harvesting herbs, others tilling or sowing new seeds. None of them acknowledge your arrival. Once again, you find yourself wondering how your day has turned into whatever this is. Worship? Worship what? Vessel? What does that mean? You just wanted a normal little walk. What the fuck. You close your eyes to process and ruminate.

While you have a self-contained, quiet meltdown, Vessel begins to gather plants from the garden. He is also perturbed by the appearance of a stranger at their little haven, though it has happened infrequently in the past. He hums softly as he works, mixing dried herbs and fruits into an earthen container. You feel his towering presence return, opening your eyes to see him crouched at your side. The earthen bowl set between you and starting to smolder. You think Vessel might be smiling, but again, it's so hard to read emotions from a skeletal face.

"What do I-"

Breathe in.

Of course. Just inhale the vapors presented to you by a creature that shouldn't exist.

I am asking for trust, I know, but please humour us.

You wonder briefly at the word choice before the smoke hits you. Sweet and acrid, cloying and bracing. You aren't sure contradictions like this should exist, either. The smoke pulls you in and as you draw deeper and deeper breaths it seems to have a calming effect. Answers to your previous questions simply arrive in your mind.

You are outside of time. Vessel is exactly as named - he contains the old god you assumed him to be. Everything is very real, beloved. You are home. You will remain Home as long as you choose.

When you meet Vessel's gaze over the smoke, there is a light glow from each of the previous sockets. You're sure he's smiling now.

Welcome, beloved. Join us in worship.

AN: I really did have fun writing something outside of my normal comfort zone. Ended up having to do a lot of rewriting and paring down, because this wanted to be a monster of a story. Again, please feel free to message me if you had any different ideas or hopes for a fic!

(Also posted to the AO3 Gift Exchange collection:

Lost but Found)

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 13: Isekai: Old Hero New World

Summary: Danny doesn't know how he got here, but science seems to have advanced a lot... and gotten very animal focused?!

(cw: alternating pov)

Ao3 link

An explosion in the lab and a tumble through a random portal inside the realms later, Danny has no idea where he is.

Blue skies, green plants. He knows he must be on Earth, but where?

Doesn't help that the green is getting closer as he moves upwards. Oh, he's going down!

Are those trees?

Oh yeah, he also seems to be falling!

Danny sure hopes he's in ghost form. Not looking forward to if this is how he kicks the bucket for real. Either way, this is gonna hurt.

No energy to scream and barely conscious as it is, snapping branches snuff out any awareness he momentarily had.

The Wild Kratts crew are relaxing in the Tortuga when Koki gets an alert by some Wild Kratts Kids. It was Aiden! Something strange happened in the forest near his home.

Something had a big crash in the woods and it seems to have scared the animals near by and the kids are worried.

Could it be one of their usual villains? Maybe, but they tend to be more subtle than this. Hopefully it's not a new villain they need to worry about.

The crew packs up and heads to the North American Eastern Woodlands, full of concern and mounting dread.

Danny wakes on a bed of broken branches and is surrounded by trees walling him in, the sun shining through the canopy. A squirrel napping on him scurried away as he sat up to take in his surroundings more clearly.

How long was I out?

He's not Sam and can't identify plants on sight, but he's pretty sure this forest is local or at least similar to what he's used to. He thinks these might be oak trees but don't quote him on that. It just seems likely that he at least stayed in the U.S. is all.

It'd be easier to find out where he is if he could check the stars but, sadly, it's the middle of the day. No stars for him. A shame.

Checking himself for injuries, he finds that he must have changed back after crashing. The timing for it makes the most sense for one.

Hoping he doesn't have a concussion or any broken bones that he can't feel, Danny starts to walk through the forest. Too worn out to fly for now.

That and he doesn't know if its safe to risk it or if someone would see Phantom and call the GIW or something.

Danny limped forward in the direction he chose randomly and saw the sun peaking brighter through the trees. Hoping that it means there's a clearing, he speeds up as much as he can.

The closer he got, the louder and more distinct voices became in that direction.

They sound young.

Once he reached the edge of the forest and into the clearing, his legs gave out. He has been walking without rest since he woke up and Danny can't even remember when he last ate.

As he blacks out, his only thought was how he must look to the kids who had to be nearby.

Hope this doesn't traumatize them.

The crew arrives on scene. The clearing near the beaver pond seems undamaged but they know better than to just judge without investigating.

The area is eerily quiet, especially for this time of day.

Jimmy pulls them in for a landing and the others get ready to disembark. Kratt brothers Martin and Chris make their way to the concerned children first thing when the Tortuga landed.

"Ok, just to be clear. What did you hear?" Martin beat Chris to the punch in asking.

"There was a big crash deep in the woods. And then the whole forest went quiet. We haven't seen almost any animals since." The older of the two brothers answered, the younger one nodding to confirm he heard it, too.

After deliberating with the others, the Kratt brothers were about to venture into the woods to investigate. About to.

Because right before they could, a boy, early teens at oldest, stumbled out of the forest looking like he had been through a very rough hike.

Meanwhile, miles away but in the same forest hours ago:

The whelp didn't notice him?! What an insult. The halfling is quick to notice the presence of a ghost, even if due to that 'ghost sense' of his. To not be noticed means it was on purpose or something is wrong with his prey. Yet he seemed to be functioning like usual!

Skulker hovers above the treeline, watching Danny plummet into the leafy abyss.

"Pathetic. The whelp really must be slipping if he failed to notice me. Although his parents were right there and disrupted the sanctity of my hunt! They have no respect for actual hunters. Closer to savages who target indiscriminately than a hunter who can tell which prey is worth the effort and which are bottom feeders best left alone. Even the whelp knows that! They are more akin to Plasmius and his cruel experiments on the recently dead and never born than true hunters." The ghost thought out loud to himself, mentally marking his observations down as he flew. Grumbling along the way. "It should not matter where the hunt took place, even inside the cursed residence."

He left to find something more fun to hunt in the meantime. The whelp was no fun when he doesn't bring a challenge!

And he didn't have to search long.

He didn't happen upon a creature catching his eyes but another hunter! One with a different style and class than he's seen the human world have before! Even if he hasn't really seen most of the human world. He won't stay, of course, but he can observe these new methods and see if he can add them to his own style. The possibilities are endless.

Coming into consciousness was never fun as he was forced to take stock of what is wrong. Danny is sure more damage to his person happened since the last time he did so. A few hours ago. He thinks.

He has never been good at telling time on a good day, let alone on a day where he hasn't been aware of time's passing.

Sitting up, he realized his burns he can now feel have fresh bandages on and that he is not alone or surrounded by trees this time.

He seems to instead be in some kind of medical room. Not professional and it lacks the smell of antiseptic and buzzing of florescent lighting of a hospital. One less thing to worry about, he supposed.

I am getting real tired of not knowing what's going on.

A young woman poked her head in the room. She had a tan complexion, neatly tied back hair, and a bright yellow jacket. Her face lit up once she saw him, kind brown eyes landing on him.

"Hey, we were worried about you!"

Danny doesn't know this woman nor why she'd be worried. Sure he was hurt, but he got hurt all the time!

In lieu of answering with words, he used his very confused expression and pointed to himself to ask and make sure.

"Yes, you! What kind of kid goes hiking in the middle of the woods without any gear or ways of communication?"

Oh yeah, my phone should still be in my room. Haven't had the chance to tell anyone something happened. That and something was in the lab, of course I went alone!

"Someone who woke up there and just started walking." Danny was still groggy having just woken up, his mouth moved before his thoughts caught up with him.

"Just woke up there?!"

Ooops, guess that was the wrong thing to say.

"Sorry? It was the middle of the night when someone broke in and the sun was up when I woke up in the middle of all the trees."

Her face looks sickened.

SHIIIT. WHY CAN'T I SAY THE RIGHT THING?!

"What I meant was 'Hi, my name is Danny, what is yours?'!" he near panic shouted out of sheer embarrassment.

Taking a second, the woman in yellow tried to get her thoughts in order while making sure her mouth worked. Hopefully better than his as he keeps putting his foot in his mouth.

"R-right, I'm Aviva and you're on the Tortuga. The headquarters of the Wild Kratts crew."

"That was a lot of words that you said. I don't know what a 'Tortuga' or a 'Wild Kratts' is but it's nice to meet you, Aviva." Danny answered her with a polite smile and an attempt at a handshake which she thankfully returned.

"Well, it seems we both have questions. How about I get the others so I'm not the only one trying to clear this up with you? Or you can move to the main area when you're ready. Ayaiyai, I am not the team medic. I think I'll grab someone else to clear you and get you something to eat and drink. They'll want to know you're awake, anyway."

All he could do was not as she left the room muttering to herself like mad with a dazed expression.

Great, more strangers. At least I can get answers soon. Hopefully.

Martin and Chris were investigating the forest. Something mysterious is happening and they don't like what they've been seeing.They found the spot of broken branches a good ways in like something fell from way up high.

They sure hope it wasn't anything alive because they doubt whatever it was would have survived the fall. But given that there are nothing but broken branches, either an animal dragged it off or the fallen object got up on its own.

It wasn't just that. If it was just whatever fell, the forest wouldn't be as silent as it is. It's giving them an eerie feeling.

Chris searches for clues from the trees as the climbing brother while Martin checks from the ground.

Heavy boot prints and purposefully damaged plant life hints at someone dangerous out here. They worry about the kid they found who came from this direction and woke up here according to him if Aviva's report is accurate.

They decide to continue investigating a bit longer before heading back. Their animal friends could be in danger and a kid has been targeted!

Only, they didn't need to continue looking. The air grew colder when before the sun kept them warm and now it's like the sun can't reach them. A deafening silence even more noticeable over the lack of forest noise, and a new sound of the whine of small rockets like a jet pack.

Out of the corner of their eyes they could see a silver suit of armor and flaming green hair. A net suddenly sprung out at them and they barely managed to dodge!

The only thing they heard from this new villain was him calling for a 'whelp' and that nothing else in the area would be worth his time, but that they would do for now.

Danny made his way to the main area of this building he woke up in, having gotten tired of waiting, when he heard an alarm. Still exhausted, he braces against the wall after the noise assaults his ears.

What the?

Now fully awake, he tries to understand what has everyone in such a tizzy.

Two men were on a video call on the big screen talking to Aviva, a ginger, and a black woman he has yet to meet. Talking about a new villain searching for some rare creature he called a 'whelp' while stomping around in a metal suit.

A new villain? Wait... 'Whelp'? Oh no.

Danny is now glad no one noticed him because now he can sneak out as Phantom. His reserves are still low but if Skulker is here looking for him, then he's gonna get him!

Not gonna let some innocent civilians get hurt because he's too tired. He never let that stop him before!

... Though, he will have to be smart about his powers. They don't know about him, maybe even ghosts in general, and he doesn't want to ruin a forest because a ghost followed him all the way out here.

On his way out, he got to see the place from the outside and he just knows his friends would be jealous once their worry moves out of the way. A turtle ship! Not too unbelievable from what he's seen but it's amazing. A combination of both Sam and Tucker's passion!

Well, I can always be fascinated later.The dead never rest, after all.

He snaps out of his momentary awe and leaves towards where he first woke up. Following the now twice over haunted forest trail.

Further into the forest, the brothers were dealing with this guy. Or trying to at least.

It's like this anything they do goes straight through him!

Don't get them wrong, they are glad they are being targeted instead of some poor animal but c'mon! This guy has to be getting tired at some point! Even if it's just his suit getting overused.

He kept demanding information of where whatever creature he was looking for was. Which, even if they got what he meant specifically by 'whelp' and 'half ghost' they'd never rat out any creature to someone who'd want to hurt them, anyway!

And then, he decided since they aren't helpful, they might as well be target practice! Who does this?!

They're on the back foot, trying to get away when suddenly a blast of green energy comes from behind. Shooting right in between the brothers and hitting the suit or armor guy square in the chest. Pushing the villain back a few feet and leaving a strange, charged smell in the air.

Whatever that was, the new villain grinned at the arrival.

The crew back at the Tortuga scrambled.

A new villain, a hunter by the sounds of it, is looking for a creature he calls 'whelp' or 'halfling'.

And to make matters worse, when Aviva went to check on the injured kid and he was gone. He vanished as if he was a ghost!

She was the one to check on him because he already met her and now she's even more worried about him! She's glad they already sent the Wild Kratts kids who called them here home. It wouldn't do to worry about their safety, too!

He said he just woke up in the middle of the woods and some of his wounds are older than just the last few hours he has to have been hiking for. More like stumbling! He's lucky the direction he picked led him to other people!

How did he up and leave without anyone noticing, anyway? Even if they were busy, someone should have heard him leave! Right?

No! Don't beat yourself up for this, Aviva! Focus on the task at hand for now! A new villain is in these woods now and the injured kid disappeared! They could be connected somehow!

She jumped on a Buzz Bike after letting the others know she was on her way, and left towards the action.

The brothers Kratt only had a moment to turn their head to see the newcomer before things started happening again. The world felt like it was on pause between the blast and the newcomer floating in there, feet off the ground, as they gave a sassy and confident smirk.

Whoever this was had the physical appearance of a young teenager with snow white hair and glowing green eyes, shining the same color that is lighting up his outstretched fist. He seemed to be glowing the same white as his hair and off-putting aura that the man before them was. An aura that wasn't that noticeable before now is amplified. The rest of him was in black and white like a strange bodysuit with a stylized D on his chest. An emblem like their paw print ones on the power suits.

The power suits!

That gives them and idea.

Before they left to find some creatures, they could hear the robotic armor and newcomer exchange banter like they knew each other.

"Ah, so you finally show yourself!"

"Skulker, you asshole! First you broke into the lab and shot me in the back and now you are just throwing a tantrum because I'm not here to entertain you! What the hell!"

"You know full well how this goes, ghost child."

"But at 2 AM?! I just managed to pass out. And because you attacked in the house, the house's defenses activated! I am so tired of you and I'm running on negative sleep!"

Wait... the 'whelp' was this KID?!

The newly dubbed 'Skulker' refuted the accusation that he blew up whatever lab the kid was in. Then shouting about some kind of 'Frootloop' was the last they heard before they made a retreat.

Who that kid is doesn't matter right now, it's time to find some creature powers to help him out. They don't want to leave the kid alone with that guy for long, he looks and is acting like he can handle it but he's clearly very tired. Skulker is very clearly armed and dangerous!

Aviva made her way to the boys, having no idea where Danny wandered off to and only able to focus on one thing at the moment, when the brothers quite literally crashed into her. Leaving them all sprawled on the ground for a hot minute before picking themselves back up.

"Guys?! What is going on?"

"We wish we could tell you." Martin replied first, taking a second to process things.

"What we do know," Chris chimed in, "is that what we need is some creature power. There is a dangerous villain farther in and we need to help that mystery kid fighting him!"

"What? Is there someone else out there? Did you say 'kid'?"

"Yeah, and we need to help them. They showed up out of nowhere to help fight off Skulker, that's the villains name apparently by the way, but they seemed really tired just after one hit!"

"What?!"

"Yeah. We need to help them! Hopefully after we can learn who this person is, too!"

"Well, more than being the 'whelp' Skulker was searching for!"

The boys ran off in different directions, finding a different creature to transform into.

Aviva was left there, stunned.

Today has been so confusing.

And not the fun way.

She's going to help even if she doesn't know everything that's going on or so help her!

Aviva gets back on the Buzz Bike and heads for the action.

Danny has less energy than he thought!

One blast and he's already struggling to not change back again.

Damn Skulker! First his ghost sense wakes him up and then he comes at him from behind, pushing him into this mess!

Sure, maybe the lab explosion was probably not entirely his fault but there's a whole lot else from that night that was.

Danny is pretty sure adrenaline and rage are all that's keeping him moving, but what else is new?

Having to doge and weave through the trees while Skulker can go right through them, apparently finding it fun to have trees as obstacles. Frustrating but he knows the alternative is the fight above the trees and he's not sure he could stay in the air long enough for that.

Exhaustion dragging through him, right to his bones even in this form, is his body's payback for not resting enough even if he never really gets to.

One wrong turn and a failed dodge later, and he slammed into a tree. Winded, tired, and in a daze. Struggling to catch his breath, all he can do is lean on this tree that caught him mid-flight. Collapsing under his own weight.

He was sure that this was it for him, when suddenly a large green bird and a human sized bipedal blue wolf, he thinks, started attacking Skulker from two different sides.

It wasn't until they spoke did he realize that they were the two men Skulker was fighting earlier! At least Danny thinks so? Today has been wild for him. But he is pretty sure he at least heard their voices back at that giant mechanical turtle.

The green bird man took the fight to the sky, Skulker following him. The ghost is curious and confused, yet intrigued. He hopes they aren't some rare creature for him to hunt, too!

While one went off to take the fight out of here, the blue brother stayed behind. The man came up to him, concern etched onto his face.

"Hey, kid. Are you alright? Standard question, I know, but a response would be good." This was said in a light tone but caution was in his voice.

Shit, is he talking to me? Great, hope my mouth works properly this time.

"Yeah", a groan escaped him as he tried to stand while the world spun, "Just trying to find the bus that ran me over."

"Buddy, I can say with certainty that getting up right now is not a good idea for you."

"But if I don't fight him, who will? He could hurt someone! Besides, I'm used to this."

The man frowned, looking a bit heartbroken. Danny didn't understand why, especially while in this state. No one else minded he did all this stuff. Danger is the price to pay for living in Amity Park, let alone being a Fenton!

"How about this, you tell me what you usually do when fighting him and we can let my brother know? He's the green bird you saw earlier."

Danny wanted to protest but he could barely see straight. Can he really trust these guys? He wants to but his head is pounding too much to think clearly.

"I don't even know your name, wolf-man."

The blue wolf man paused, before chuckling a bit, "Oh, right! I'm Martin and my brother is Chris. We're the Kratt brothers! Most people we run into are able to recognize us so I forgot you probably wouldn't know."

"Huh", Danny's mouth tried to work as he processed this. Martin and Chris are apparently big names here! But all he could say was, "Didn't know a bird and a wolf could be related like that, are you adopted?"

"Wha-", he looks at himself and realizes he's still transformed, " Oh! No this is from my creature power suit! Our friend, Aviva, invented them. Programming and form and everything! Animal DNA and nature know-how takes care of the rest!"

Huh! Technology sure can be impressive! Especially when it's not centered on his and other ghosts' destruction!

"Oh." Apparently he cannot talk today, "I'm Phantom."

While trying to remember what else he was asked, an explosion shook the trees, stopping any further conversation.

Coming back down through the trees was Chris, plummeting right on top of them, screaming.

Martin moved to catch his brother. To keep him from getting more hurt and to keep Phantom from being directly impacted. A glow of green and blue signifying the crash to cause their deactivation.

The light from their de-transformations caught Phantom's eye. They can change just like him! He thinks he can trust them with this, after all.

Oh, no! But that could be bad if Skulker decides to want them for that!

Wait... Skulker!

"Ya gotta remove his head."

The now human looking brothers look at him in disbelief. Chris showed confusion as well as only Martin had context for that.

"Oh, right! Chris, this kid is Phantom! Phantom, this is Chris!"

"Bro, that only answered one question."

Danny just realized they are both looking at him.

Right, it's not obvious. Forgot.

"The head of his suit. It comes off," Danny tried to explain while his head and mouth were not working right, "then ya gotta use this."

He hands them the Fenton Thermos.

"For soup?"

"Nooooo, ya gotta uncap it and just point it at him once the head is off. It'll get him to stop."

Dannys instructions were not as clear as they should be but they had no choice but to try it.

Able to get around the trees better and with Skulkers attention back on Phantom, they managed to knock his head off.

And they were really not prepared for what happened next.

With the head now off, the body just went limp.

Like no one was inside.

Then they looked at the head in their hands and tiny, green feet were sticking out of them. Kicking wildly.

"Use the thermos!"

Phantom's strained yell startled them that they dropped the thermos and almost dropped the head.

Only to be picked up by Aviva, coming in clutch.

Danny tried to explain what to do, but he's unsure if what came out made sense.

Well, either it did or she was able to intuit what needed to happen, as she did exactly what she needed to do.

She pointed the thermos and aimed it at the knocked off head. Skulker finally was able to force himself out of his robotic head right before the beam hit him.

His booger-y form is visible for all to see and cursing them all.

Danny laughed at his small form, feeling good about this.

"Hey, guess what! I can transform like you guys!" Danny exclaimed, impulse making an executive decision.

And Danny let his transformation rings wash across his body, passing out again for the second time that day. Oblivious to the three adults' shocked faces.

Back in the Tortuga, hours later:

"...And that's what happened. I'm pretty sure that the portal spit me out somewhere completely different or even a different dimension. I don't have time to keep up to date on most news usually, but I'm pretty sure either of my friends would be raving about you guys. One's an extreme activist and the other is a tech nerd who'd totally geek out about this ship."

Danny, bandaged and rested up, explained all that happened leading up to here since he was last home. He slipped in some things about his home and his friends and family. Even ending with what he thinks is a lame smile and jazz hands.

"Everything I learn about you makes me more concerned." One of them said. Danny thinks her name was 'Koki'.

"Yeah, dude. That is seriously messed up," JZ chimed in, "This guy wasn't even one of the more dangerous ones? Are you sure you should even go back?"

"Speaking to the choir, dude. I'm well aware how messed up my half life is. But it is my life, y'know? I need to be able to get back."

Despite the adults' clear hesitation about sending him back, they don't want to trap him here away from the people he loves. That's what their villains try to do when they kidnap baby animals! With what they old him, he can at least trust them to help him get home.

Somehow.

"How will I get home, anyway? I can do some basic engineering from being around my parents' stuff my whole life but I'm not sure where to start!" Danny had to ask. He feels like he can ask them despite the uncertainty. It's not often he comes across adults he can feel this way about.

"Oh, I can help with that!"

"Aviva? I thought you did animal based engineering and inventing?"

"Si, I am. But if I managed to crack time travel, even just a bit, then I don't see how I can't do this, too!

"Now, that is some confidence! Time travel? Do tell!"

"Oh!" The brothers simultaneously looked at her and Danny, "She invented a time trampoline!"

"We went back in creature time to meet extinct animals!"

They practically talked over each other out of excitement.

"A trampoline?!" Danny could hardly believe that human made time travel existed here, let alone one that functioned like a trampoline!

The group laughed good naturedly at his reaction, as understandable as it was.

"I think we all agree that you can stay with us until a way home is secured. Bet you never got to fly in a giant turtle ship, before?" Jimmy casually tells him in his usual, laid back tone.

"You bet I haven't! I did successfully land a NASA shuttle once, though. That was a story and a half for sure. I've done a lot of flight simulators in preparation to be an astronaut!"

It felt good to be able to passionately talk about what he loves with others who can share back different passions.

"Ah, a future space boy, huh?," JZ responded, "Thinking about life on other planets?"

"One of the many things to think about regarding space!" Space talk really brought out Danny's energy.

"Oh,"Koki added, "bet he doesn't know about tardigrades!"

"What are those?"

"Tardigrade, or a water bear, is a small creature, usually only visible with a microscope that can survive in even the harshest environments. Creatures like the tardigrade show us that life could be possible out there in ways we never thought possible." It's like all of them took turns infodumping that he wasn't able to discern who said which part as he took in the information.

"Those things sound so cool! How do we find them?"

"I guess we can show you. You are staying until you can go home after all!"

He's looking forward to future adventures while they last. To learning about animals he never once though twice about and giving their villains a good scare.

"Oh yeah," a thought just occurred to him, "what does 'tortuga mean? Like why did you make that the name of your giant turtle ship?"

"Danny," Aviva said with a smirk,"'Tortuga' means 'turtle' in Spanish!"

Danny's face lit up red in embarrassment and everyone laughed at his expense. He felt warm and welcome here, a way he hasn't back home in a long time if ever.

If animals and how they work were taught anything like this, I don't think I would have failed that class as badly. I think being here will be fun while it lasts!

Sam and Tucker are gonna be so jealous!

[oldiesstationlover11607]

it's p obvious who I am w these requests bc I literally said so in the comments of my first request but THANK YOU SO MUCH IM OVER THE MOON!!!!!!!! you're a v talented writer I really like these so so much ///////

I've had a loose idea for hanahaki in relation to clancebearer + rebel red carnations / the yellow petals but I have. No idea what to do about that. Maybe you would have some clue LOL

Petals - Torchbearer!Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: hanahaki + near death experience 😭

Word Count: 1074 - short and sweet

A/N: I don't write for joshler/clance-bearer but I thought I'd write something similar bc I thought this idea was interesting. I saw your other comment about using the null symbol bc you've liked it before tøp so i'm okay with that being ur anon symbol/emjoi thing. Hopefully you enjoy this and request a few more things :) I also have NO idea who u are btw lol.

I never told anyone. It was too much to admit, even to myself. I thought if I kept ignoring it, it would just go away—that maybe if I swallowed it all down hard enough, I could force it back where it belonged. But emotions, like flowers, have a way of growing in the dark.

And it started with yellow.

It was always yellow with him. That color meant loyalty, protection, rebellion. Every time we stood side by side, I’d see the flash of yellow on his clothes. I wanted to ask him what it all meant, why he wore it with such conviction. But then, what did I know about loyalty?

After all, I couldn’t even stay true to myself.

I’d been with the Torchbearer for so long, following him through every battle, every narrow escape from Dema, through the endless fight to keep the torch burning. I admired him, envied him even. He was always so sure of what he was doing, so steady when everything around us seemed to fall apart.

But somewhere along the way, admiration became something else. Something more painful, more personal. And I knew that if I let it out, it would consume me. So, I buried it. Deep.

The problem was… it didn’t stay buried.

I felt it the first time a petal fluttered from my lips, a strange tickling sensation that I brushed off as dust or something in the air. But the petals kept coming, like little reminders that I was no longer in control. Bright, vibrant yellow petals—his color. Every time I coughed, I found more. I started hiding them, stuffing them into my pockets or crushing them beneath my heel when no one was looking.

I thought I could manage it. After all, I’d managed to keep my feelings hidden from him, hadn’t I?

But it was getting worse. The pressure in my chest was unbearable some days, like something had rooted itself deep inside my lungs and refused to let go. The more I tried to swallow it down, the more it seemed to grow, spreading its roots until even breathing felt like a struggle.

I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell anyone.

Then came the day of the hike.

The Torchbearer had suggested it, saying we all needed a break, a moment to step away from Dema’s gray walls and the constant threat of the Bishops. Clancy had agreed, and before I knew it, we were hiking through the woods just outside the city limits. The air was fresh, the sky clear, and for a little while, I thought maybe this could help. Maybe I could breathe.

But I couldn’t.

Each step felt heavier than the last. I could barely keep up, my breaths coming in short gasps. My throat burned, and I could feel the petals pushing up, scratching at the back of my throat, begging to be released.

I stumbled, my vision blurring. The Torchbearer’s voice cut through the haze, calling my name, but it sounded distant, like he was miles away instead of just a few steps ahead.

“Are you okay?” His voice was close now, his hand on my arm, steadying me. I didn’t dare look at him. I didn’t want him to see what was happening.

But it was too late.

The moment I opened my mouth to speak, a cluster of yellow petals spilled out, floating to the ground between us. I froze, my breath catching in my chest as more petals followed—whole flowers now, bright and vivid and wrong. I couldn’t stop it.

The Torchbearer’s eyes widened, his hand tightening around my arm as he crouched in front of me. “What—what is this?”

I choked, trying to push the words out between the petals, but it was useless. My throat was full of them, each one sharper than the last, tearing at me from the inside. Tears stung my eyes as I doubled over, clutching my chest, my hands trembling as more flowers fell.

He didn’t let go. His voice was frantic now, his eyes scanning me, desperate for answers I couldn’t give. “Hey, what’s happening?” He looked at Clancy, who seemed to know exactly what’s going on. 

The truth was as tangled inside me as the flowers themselves. “It’s—” I coughed again, spitting out another petal, my voice raw and strained. 

“It’s Hanahaki disease,” Clancy started, “it happens sometimes in Dema, a–uh, side effect of repressing your feelings–romantic ones.”

The Torchbearer’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t—what does that mean? Why is this happening?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, the weight of it all crushing me. 

“It means… it means she likes you.” The words fell from his lips like a confession, a release. 

The silence that followed was worse than the pain. It was suffocating, like the flowers had stolen the air from my lungs completely. I waited for him to pull away, to let go, to leave me there with my shame and the flowers that were killing me from the inside.

But he didn’t.

Instead, I felt his hand on my face, soft and steady, his thumb brushing away the tears I hadn’t even realized were there. “You—” His voice was thick, like he was trying to process it all at once. “You’re sick because of me?”

I nodded, unable to meet his eyes. 

“It happens when someone loves someone else, but they don’t think it’s mutual. The flowers grow… and eventually, they take over,” Clancy continued. 

There was a pause, and then I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me into his chest. His voice was low, trembling. “You should have told me.”

I shook my head, words unable to escape my mouth.

“You’re not going to lose me,” he whispered, his breath warm against my hair. “You never were.”

I pulled back just enough to see his face, my heart pounding in my chest.

He smiled, a soft, sad smile that made my chest tighten. “I’m saying I love you too.” His thumb brushed over the yellow petal still clinging to my lips. “I’m saying you don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

The flowers stopped. Just like that.

As he held me, I felt the weight in my chest lift, the pressure easing as if his words had reached deep inside me and pulled the roots free. I could breathe again.

And for the first time in a long while, I wasn’t afraid of the yellow.

//

REQUESTS OPEN

[biblicalhorror]

i absolutely love the idea that menstruation connects you to the earth - can you explain a bit? i’d love to incorporate that belief in my view of it

Sure! Basically, I was raised on a celtic pagan commune by a bunch of hippies who held monthly new moon ceremonies for people in the families that bled. During the ceremonies, we would read ancient stories and poems, eat chocolate, do face masks, exchange gifts, run naked in the snow, all sorts of activities were involved. You were only allowed to participate in the ceremonies if you menstruated, so when I got my first period, I had what was known as a "first blood ceremony" which involved having to hike a mile in the woods with the men followed by going inside to drink hot cocoa and hear speeches from the women about the magic that had awoken within me, and then we all danced in a big circle and sang songs. I grew up seeing menstruating as a great honor to participate in because a) it meant being a "grown-up" and b) it had been venerated all my life as a sacred bond that forms between a person and the earth.

From what I understand, it's all based on stories my parents read in the 90s and 00s about women in ancient human civilizations who would gather together in tents (before electricity was invented, so their cycle was more likely to be synced up with moon cycles/the cycles of other women) and bleed directly into the ground. Supposedly, the nutrients in our menstrual blood (which are created by our bodies to build and sustain life) flowing into the earth would revitalize the soil and bring good harvests or whatever, and then when you ate well, you would bleed more because of the divine life force flowing through you. I have no idea if any of this is true or not historically or scientifically, but I know my mom used to pour her blood into her gardens, and she swears it worked.

As an adult, I don't identify as purely a "woman" and I don't think menstruation has anything at all to do with womanhood. However, I do still like to see my menstrual period as a time to engage in self-care, reset, and connect with the earth, because recalling these stories helps me feel a connection to both human history and to nature, I guess in the same way traditional religious practices can help people feel connected with the world around them.

[strangerstilinski]

SELENOPHILES OF BEACON HILLS | Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinksi/Original Female Character

chapter twelve

fic summary; after an already traumatic evening involving the unfortunate discovery of a gruesome scene, amber is convinced to hike through the woods with her two best friends in search of the other half of a dead body. but it's not as if she could ever say no.. not when stiles looked at her like that.

chapter word count; 8,101

chapter notes; it seems as if no one will be attending formal with their first choice. amber goes on a date but just can't seem to get stiles out of her mind.

masterlist

c h a p t e r t w e l v e

formality

With everything that had happened over the previous forty-eight hours, the last thing Amber wanted to be doing on Tuesday afternoon was walking through the woods or going shopping. Regardless, she found herself awkwardly sandwiched between Lydia and Allison as they followed a hiking trail deep into the preserve.

She wanted to be angry with Allison for everything that had taken place. For telling her aunt that Amber knew Derek at all, let alone that she was close with him, that she thought they were together. But Amber begrudgingly understood why she couldn't hold it over her.

If Allison truly had no idea what her family was up to, then Amber didn't feel right being upset with her for exposing something that she'd thought to be nothing more than teenage drama. Nonetheless, Amber couldn't help but feel antsy.

With Amber's trust for Allison nearly nonexistent, and her heart pounding in her skull with constant anxiety, she found herself looking over her shoulder obsessively as they trekked through the woods, practically waiting for Peter Hale to make an appearance at any second — Or equally frighteningly, Allison's aunt.

She wasn't entirely sure which would be worse.

"Allison," Lydia huffed in annoyance as her high heel caught on another fallen tree branch, continuing when Amber reached to steady her, "When you told us you needed to stop for an errand before we went shopping; a five mile hike in the woods.. Not what I was expecting."

"Lydia, we've only been walking for ten minutes." Amber laughed.

The redhead held up her hand in a signal for Amber to keep quiet, "Regardless."

"Mm," Allison hummed noncommittally, turning her attention to Lydia, "Before I forget, I wanted to ask you something. Jackson asked me to the winter formal."

"Did he?" Lydia questioned, going for casually unaffected, but not quite accomplishing it.

"You-? You didn't say yes, did you?" Amber asked incredulously.

Allison shrugged, "He asked just as friends. I wanted to make sure Lydia was okay with it first, though."

"Allison. They literally just broke up. Last week." Amber said in disbelief.

Lydia nudged Amber aggressively before speaking to Allison, "Sure," She told her, "As long as it's just as friends."

"Well, yeah." Allison said easily, turning to look at Amber out of the corner of her eye, "It's not like I'd take him into an empty classroom before lacrosse practice and make out with him, or anything."

Amber startled so hard she nearly tripped, reaching out to grab ahold of Lydia's arm as she stood upright again, "What?" She squeaked.

"Allison, that is so not what-" Lydia started, but Amber tightened her hand around the girl's arm and shook her head pleadingly.

"Allison, I am so sorry." Amber apologized seriously, "I know you and Scott had only just broken up, but it wasn't like that. I swear to you. And, don't worry, it's never going to happen again."

"I'm not worried," Allison brushed her off as they continued to follow the trail, "Like you said, Scott and I broke up. But, I really did want to make sure Lydia was cool with me going to the dance with Jackson before I told him for sure. You know, 'cause a good friend should check in first."

Amber swallowed at the dig, taking a breath to calm her irritation and continuing to walk between the two girls determinedly.

"Right, yeah." She said quietly, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

Allison slowed suddenly and pulled the large canvas bag she was carrying off of her shoulder, letting it drop to the ground with a soft thud. She squatted down to unzip the bag and pulled out an archery bow and a hollow arrow that was missing a head.

Lydia and Amber both watched in confusion as Allison reached back into the bag to pull out a fist-sized, black conical piece of metal and began to screw it onto the top of the arrow.

"What does that do?" Lydia voiced.

Allison looked back at the two of them as she rose to her feet, lining the arrow up along the bow string, "We're about to find out."

Allison pulled back the string and released the arrow, shooting it forward where it embedded itself into a tree a few hundred yards away. The impact made a small explosion and the arrow shot out a series of sparks, the blast causing Amber to flinch a step back.

"What the hell was that?" She asked in surprise.

"I'm not sure." Allison told them, shaking her head and making a face like she was finally puzzling pieces together in her brain. Allison squinted at the arrow where it was still planted in the trunk of the tree, shooting off small flickering flames where the bark had caught fire.

"Well!" Lydia clapped her hands sarcastically, "That was fun, Allison. Any more lethal weapons you want to try out?"

A twig snapped in the distance and Amber's eyes darted to look around them in fear. She peered through the trees, looking for any sight of Peter Hale in either of his terrifying physical forms, but saw nothing. No sign of Kate Argent either.

"Hold this." Allison said quietly, delicately dropping her bow into Amber's hands and beginning to stalk off into the trees.

Amber turned to face Lydia, pawning off the bow into her unsuspecting hands as she followed after Allison.

"Hold this." Amber repeated to the wide eyed redhead.

"What? Why?" Lydia asked them.

"Because I thought I heard something." Allison answered over her shoulder.

"So what if you heard something?" Lydia questioned, trying to meet Amber's eye as she sidestepped to trace Allison's footsteps.

"So, I want to find out what that something is." Allison told her.

Amber turned her head to give Lydia what she hoped was a reassuring smile despite her underlying fear, "Don't worry," She told her friend, "It's probably nothing."

Lydia took an anxious step forward to follow after them, "What if that nothing is something and that something is something dangerous?"

"Shoot it." Allison supplied unhelpfully, nodding at the bow clutched loosely in Lydia's hands.

Amber sighed and shot Lydia a serious look, "Just stay here."

Allison and Amber veered off the path in the direction that they'd heard the noise a few moments before, both looking into the trees around them cautiously. They walked with careful steps in silence for a few minutes, listening closely.

There was a small rustle of leaves behind them and Allison's hand darted into her jacket pocket. Her arm shot out to aim a taser over Amber's shoulder as she pulled the trigger and Amber squeaked out a gasp, turning just as Allison's eyes locked on the threat she was electrocuting.

"Scott?" Allison questioned at the same moment that Amber worriedly exclaimed, "Scott!"

They both watched as Scott dropped down onto his back in the leaves underfoot and twitched, his body tight with pain.

"Trigger finger-" He said through clenched teeth.

"Oh! Right!" Allison realized suddenly, looking down wide-eyed at the device in her hand, "Oh, god.. Oh, god!"

Amber reached over to help her flick the off-switch with fumbling hands and they both dropped to the ground on either side of him as soon as the current of electricity was cut.

"Scott, oh my god. Are you okay?" Amber asked frantically, reaching to pull the taser barbs out of his chest where they'd planted themselves through his sweatshirt.

"I am so sorry!" Allison apologized.

Scott took a pained breath as the barbs were ripped from his pecs and pushed his head back into the ground underneath him, "'s my fault. Totally my fault." He told them quickly, "I'm fine-" Scott's whole body spasmed violently with the word and Amber flinched back as he jerked.

Allison looked at him worriedly, "We didn't know it was you. If I'd known it was you I would've-"

"Still pulled the trigger?" Scott joked through clenched teeth, body convulsing again slightly.

"No! Of course not-" Allison laughed anxiously, "I-I'm so sorry."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Amber asked him, leaning back to sit on her heels.

"Yeah. I think so." Scott told them, beginning to sit up and smiling at Allison.

"What were you doing here, anyway?" Allison asked with a confused smile, "Were you.. Following us?"

"No!" Scott denied a touch too quickly, his eyes bouncing between the two girls nervously before settling back on Allison, "Not at all. I mean, your dad told me that you run this trail sometimes and I was hoping to catch you alone."

"..By following me." Allison laughed quietly.

"Well," Scott said slowly, "Yeah."

Amber snorted and Allison tilted her head at him, "What for?" Allison asked.

"Oh!" Scott exclaimed suddenly, reaching into the pocket of his jeans before pulling out the necklace he'd pilfered from Allison's house the week before, "I found this at school."

Amber watched as Allison gasped and quickly grabbed it from his outstretched hand, "Thank god! I was beginning to think it was stolen."

"No!" Scott said quickly, eyes flicking to Amber for only a second, "No, just lost. Definitely not.. Stolen. By anyone." He said unsuspiciously.

Amber rolled her eyes and got to her feet, brushing her hands off on her jeans while Allison laughed at him.

"Well, thank you for finding it." Allison told him gratefully, "And for bringing it."

"You don't think I'm a total stalker now, do you?" Scott asked nervously.

"Mm, no." Allison hummed with a smile, "I just think you're weird. Like you always are."

Scott and Allison also climbed to their feet and once they were standing upright, Allison quickly wrapped her arms around his torso, pulling him into a tight embrace. Amber rolled up onto her toes and dropped back down awkwardly, averting her gaze and looking into the trees around them for a moment as they hugged.

Allison pulled back suddenly and collected her taser, stuffing it into her pocket and grabbing Amber by her wrist to lead her away. They walked back toward the trailhead and Amber pushed her legs to keep up with Allison's quick stride, looking at the ground attentively so as not to trip over anything. Once they made it back to the trail and Scott was out of sight, Allison looked at Amber in the corner of her eye and began to speak.

"So, listen," Allison started before taking a deep breath, "I was thinking.. Lydia should go to winter formal with Stiles."

Amber tripped over her feet but kept pace beside the other girl, "Stiles?" She squeaked.

"Yeah." Allison told her, "You know that Lydia is going to end up going with some douchebag jock and that's not what she needs right now. She should go with a nice guy. Like Stiles."

"Lydia.. And-and Stiles." Amber repeated dumbly, heart in her throat.

"Don't you think Lydia deserves that?" Allison asked pointedly.

Amber sighed, "Would.. Will this make us even?" She asked quietly, picking at the cuticle on her thumb with her pointer finger beneath the sleeve of her jacket.

Allison smiled at her softly, reaching out to hold Amber's hand in hers for a moment, "Yes. Yes, it will." Allison told her honestly.

Amber nodded determinedly, pushing down her disappointment. Lydia and Stiles could go to the dance together — It was fine. She could totally handle it.

It wasn't as if Stiles would've asked Amber anyway.

When the three girls arrived at the mall an hour later, Amber had already messaged Stiles to meet them for dress shopping. As they approached the escalator to take them to the formalwear section of the large department store, she got a text from her best friend, alerting her that he was already upstairs waiting for them.

Amber's eyes drifted over to Allison as they stepped onto the moving staircase and she frowned at the distracted look on the other girl's face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Amber asked.

Allison stepped up onto the stair behind her and Lydia, adjusting her purse over her shoulder, "Nothing's wrong. I just, I have a lot on my mind."

"Tell me about it." Amber grumbled under her breath, heart stuttering in her chest as her mind drifted and she worried about Derek.

Lydia tilted her head at the both of them and blinked, "Well you both could smile, at least." She told them, "You ever hear the saying, 'Never frown. Someone could be falling in love with your smile'?"

Amber grinned, wide and fake, turning to Allison as she leaned against the moving railing, "Smile, Allison. Remember who I invited to come here at your request?"

Allison nodded, reaching forward to pat Amber on the back with a sigh, "You're right. I mean, as far as apologies go, that's probably as good as it gets."

Lydia frowned at them in confusion and pursed her lips before turning to face forward again as they all stepped off of the escalator.

"So, Lydia.. I actually need your help with this part of my apology." Amber whispered into the redhead's ear as they walked into the store.

"What?" Lydia questioned, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Allison stepped up to put her face between Amber and Lydia's heads, wrapping her arms around their shoulders, "Lydia, you're going to cancel on whatever dumb, 'roided-up jock you said yes to, and you're going to go to the dance with somebody else."

"Who?" Lydia frowned.

"Him." Amber supplied, pointing her finger across the store.

Stiles was standing at the perfume counter a few yards away, sampling the scents laid out in front of him. He lifted one of the pretty bottles up and spritzed it into the air, accidentally spraying himself in the face as he did so.

Amber watched with an endeared smile as he sneezed cutely a couple of times in an attempt to dislodge the perfume invading his nostrils. He dropped the bottle back onto the counter offendedly before he seemed to notice the gaze of the three girls looking over at him and lifted his hand to give them an awkward wave.

Lydia looked at Stiles with her face pinched in disgust for only a moment before her eyes darted over toward Amber.

"Please?" Amber asked the redhead with a small smile.

With a deep frown, Lydia sighed, "Fine."

"Oh, don't frown, Lydia." Allison grinned as she released the girls and started to walk over toward the juniors dresses, "Someone could be falling in love with your smile."

Once the two girls were alone, Lydia turned to Amber sharply, "Are you sure about this? I mean, I know you-"

"I'm sure." Amber assured her, "If you go to the dance with Stiles, Allison will totally, one hundred percent forgive me for kissing Scott. It's just one night. I-If it makes her feel better, it's worth it."

"You didn't even kiss Scott. Remember?" Lydia prompted, "He kissed you."

Amber sighed, "Yes, Lydia, I know." She peeked over at Stiles again where he was still waiting patiently, "But I don't want Allison to know that, alright? He still loves her, and she'll be devastated."

Lydia pursed her lips in thought before pulling out her phone and flitting her fingers across the screen as she typed out a text message.

"What're you doing?" Amber asked suspiciously.

"If I'm going to the dance with Stilinski, there's no way I'm letting you go alone." Lydia stated.

"What does that mean?" Amber questioned nervously.

Lydia's phone pinged with an incoming text and the redhead grinned, "It means your date will be here in a few minutes to help pick out a color scheme."

"Wh-" Amber started, but Lydia was already prancing off after Allison and toward the formal dresses.

With a sigh, Amber finally made her way over to Stiles, anxiety pulling at her chest.

"Hey, hi." He said quickly when he noticed her approaching, standing upright from where he had been leaning against the perfume counter, "So you-"

"I need you to be Lydia's date to the dance." Amber interrupted in a rush, playing with her fingers nervously.

"I- You- What?" Stiles seemed to deflate, a confused look on his face.

"I-I need you to take Lydia to formal." She reiterated, "With Jackson dumping her and now him going with Allison.. She was gonna end up going with some dickhead from the football team and.. I want her to go with someone good. Someone- Someone nice."

"And.. You want that person to be me?" He questioned slowly.

She nodded regretfully, "Yeah. I-I know she's not your favorite person in the world but-"

"Not my favorite person in the world?" Stiles repeated incredulously, "Amber, she barely knows I exist. Up until that night at the school I don't think she'd ever even looked me in the eye. She's not going to agree to-"

"She already did." Amber interrupted, "She already agreed to go with you."

His eyebrows rose in surprise, "She did?"

"Mhm," Amber nodded, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Well, I- Okay." He finally agreed.

"Okay." She repeated, biting down on her lip and grabbing his wrist to lead him over to where the other girls were already flipping through racks of dresses.

"So, are you going to the dance alone?" Stiles questioned, watching Amber closely as she pulled out a dusty blue dress, "You and Scott could always-"

Amber shook her head in response, fingering the material of the dress before throwing it over her arm and moving on down the rack, "No, Lydia already found me date."

Stiles poked at a hideous yellow dress and frowned, "Oh, god. She did? Who?"

She shrugged and pulled out a silky evergreen colored dress, draping it over her forearm as well, "I'm not sure. I'm just hoping it's not some-"

"Hey!" A voice called out a few feet behind them, "Amber, hey. Hi."

Amber and Stiles both turned and watched as Ben Davis came to stand in front of them. The boy was breathing heavier than a day at the mall typically called for, as if he'd run all the way from the parking lot into the store. His normally effortlessly styled dark hair was messy and loose, a small strand curling down over his forehead.

"Oh, hey, Ben." Amber greeted with a smile.

"Davis." Stiles acknowledged lamely.

Amber rocked back on her heels as a short silence settled between the three of them, "So.. What's up?"

"Oh!" Ben shook his head, "Sorry, I- Lydia texted me. She mentioned you were interested in going to formal. With me."

"Oh my god, duh." She laughed, reaching out to squeeze Ben's arm reassuringly, "I'm so sorry. Yes. Yeah. That would be great."

Ben's posture seemed to relax and his eyes flicked over toward where Stiles stood with a cute frown on his face as he looked between Amber and Ben. She blinked and moved to give Stiles a gentle push in the direction of where Lydia was browsing with five hangers already cradled in her arms.

"Stiles, go help Lydia with her dresses." She urged.

He nodded reluctantly, pouting at her cutely before he turned and walked away. As soon as Lydia noticed him standing beside her, the dresses she was holding were thrown into his unsuspecting arms and she pulled him over toward another rack.

"So," Amber started slowly, flipping through the dresses in front of her with a determined focus, "Are there any colors you're adamantly against wearing for a tie or shirt or whatever?" She asked, pulling out another dark green dress that she thought was pretty, "Because so far I've been drawn to green and then the I have one blue but if you have any preferences I'm sure I can find something-"

"No, those are great." Ben reassured quickly, reaching out to take the dresses from her arms and holding them out carefully by their hangers so as not to wrinkle them.

She smiled in thanks, using her newly freed hands to flip through the dresses more quickly. She pulled yet another evergreen colored dress, this one slightly racier than the others, and she chewed her lip in thought as she studied the neckline and the hem. After an admittedly long minute, she held out the dress for Ben to look at.

"Okay, forget you're a guy for ten seconds." She told him, "Pretend one of your little sisters is sixteen and going to a dance.. Be honest with me. Is this dress too slutty?"

Ben gaped at her for a moment, before furrowing his brows seriously and studying the dress in her hands. He reached out to take the hanger from her and held the dress out over her chest in focus as he tried to picture what it would look like on the girl in front of him.

"I think it's nice," He told her after a moment, "I think- I think it'll look really good on you."

She smiled up at him, "Not too slutty?"

He shook his head with a laugh, pulling back to add the dress to the collection in his other hand, "Not too slutty."

"Just slutty enough?" She teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

Ben laughed loudly. He looked around them in embarrassment when he noticed Lydia, Stiles, and Allison had all glanced over at the sound.

"Yes." Ben agreed quietly, "Exactly slutty enough."

She grinned, "Okay. I'm going to go see how Allison is fairing on her own. I'm tasking you with picking one out that you think is nice and adding it to the stack," She said as she stepped away slowly, "No pressure."

Ben nodded seriously and turned to flip through dresses on the untouched rack behind him. Amber laughed quietly at his determined focus before making her way over to where Allison was browsing. She passed Lydia and Stiles on her way and the redhead threw another dress onto the large stack in the boy's arms.

"Oh, okay-" Stiles readjusted to avoid the pile of garments from toppling over, "So, are you just gonna-" He only narrowly avoided walking straight into Amber as he peeked over the heap of fabric, "You gonna try all these on now?" He called after Lydia, following her quick footsteps toward the dressing rooms, "Is this store open twenty-four hours?"

Amber shook her head as she watched him go and stepped up next to Allison, "You finding anything?" She asked, pointedly looking at Allison's empty hands.

Allison sighed, "Jackson told me he's going with a 'classic' suit, whatever that means. Pretty much, he told me I can wear whatever color I want. Which doesn't help narrow it down." Grabbing a red dress with a white belted sash off of the rack, Allison held it up in front of herself, looking in the mirror at the end of the row.

Amber frowned and was beginning to pull a different dress off the rack for her when a voice cut in from beside Allison.

"That's not your color."

Amber whirled around with wide eyes and found Peter Hale had slowly approached them, his gaze focussed on Allison.

"Sorry, if that was intrusive," Peter apologized with a charming smile, "But, considering your skin tone, I'd go lighter."

Amber glared at him and tightened her fingers around the hanger in her hand, swallowing nervously as the werewolf came to stand only a few inches away from them.

Allison nodded with a wary look, "Because I'm pale?"

"Fair." Peter corrected with a soft smile, "I mean, you can't call skin like yours pale. Not skin that perfect." His gaze seemed to finally drift over to Amber and he tilted his head consideringly, "Now, with your lighter hair, you could pull off a much darker color."

He was gesturing to the creamy white dress in her hands and she swallowed nervously as she took a step to place herself between him and Allison.

Amber held the dress out to the girl beside her even as she kept her gaze focussed on Peter, "It's not for me." She told him.

Peter nodded, pleased, "Yes, that's a much better color for her complexion." He agreed, reaching out to snag a deep green dress from the rack and moving to stand behind Amber, his chest flush to her back as he held the garment out in front of her body. He looked at their reflection, his eyes twinkling mischievously as the met hers in the mirror, "Your skin is perfect in a wonderfully different way. Still fair, but with such a lovely olive undertone-" He praised, mouth just above her ear, "Something like this.. It would bring out the green in your eyes, don't you think?"

She sucked her teeth and clenched her jaw for a moment before spinning around, pulling the dress out of his hands and hanging it back up, shooting him a fake smile.

"I actually already have something picked out in that color," She told him, "My date is holding it for me."

Peter raised his eyebrows, "Ah, yes. You're shopping for dresses with friends.. High school dance?" He guessed with feigned innocence, looking between the two girls.

"Formal." Allison volunteered, grabbing ahold of Amber's arm and tugging her a step closer to herself.

"Attention shoppers. To the owner of a blue Mazda. License plate 5 U N I 768."

The sudden announcement over the intercom system was loud and Amber and Allison both flinched in surprise.

"Did she just say blue Mazda?" Allison asked with wide eyes, "That's my car."

When Allison looked between her and Peter worriedly, Amber tipped her head toward where Ben was eyeing them from a few yards away with a frown.

"Go." Amber insisted.

Allison pursed her lips unhappily before jogging off toward the escalators.

"Scott." Peter muttered in irritation with a dark look.

Amber shot him an insincere smile as she backed away, "Thanks for your help!" She told him loudly, turning and walking with quick steps to where Ben was waiting.

"What was that all about?" Ben asked worriedly, "I was about to come over and check-"

"Oh, no, it was fine," She assured him, dragging him in the direction of the dressing rooms, "He was just really enthusiastic about us picking the right colors for our skin tones. I uh, I think he was.. gay.." She finished lamely, thankful that Ben couldn't see the grimace on her face from where he was following behind her.

"Oh." He frowned with a small nod, "Right, that.. Makes sense.. I-I guess?"

She smiled and pushed him down into the chair beside Stiles, pulling the hangers out of Ben's hand and turning to head to a changing room.

She hung the hangers on the back of the door and stripped down to her underwear. Before she pulled on the first dress, she cautiously peered down at the small cut along her stomach to check that it wasn't bleeding beneath the gauze she'd secured over the wound before she'd left the school with Lydia and Allison that afternoon. There were no red splotches seeping through the white material and she sighed in relief before turning to pull the foggy blue dress over her body, tugging up the zipper on the side and frowning at herself in the mirror in deliberation.

When she heard the dressing room door beside hers click open, Amber exited the cubicle quickly, following Lydia as she went out to the cluster of mirrors in the waiting area. The redhead was already spinning to look at her reflection from different angles in the semicircle of mirrors.

"That looks really good, Lyds." Amber assured her, eyeing the tight red dress in approval.

"Mm," Lydia hummed critically, "I think it's too much for winter formal."

Amber shrugged, "Maybe. You look hot though."

Lydia turned to face her with a grin, "Thank you." Her eyes trailed down Amber's body slowly and her smile vanished as her face pinched up in disapproval, "You, on the other hand.. That color is pretty but the dress is way too modest."

Amber stepped up to examine herself with a frown, "Yeah, I was kind of thinking that too.." She turned to look at the boys behind them who had been watching with barely concealed disinterest, "Ben?"

He sat up straighter in his seat, "Yeah?"

"Too modest?" She asked with a grin, raising her eyebrows playfully.

Ben snorted at the reminder of their earlier conversation, "Yeah. Yeah, definitely not the right degree of slutty."

Stiles and Lydia both frowned in disgust at the comment but Amber laughed loudly as she stepped back down from the platform.

"Alright, I guess I'll try another one then." She told them in amusement, pausing momentarily to rub her hand over the top of Stiles' short hair when he continued to glare between her and Ben.

She skipped over the first two dark green pieces she'd picked out and quickly pulled on her favorite. It settled over her skin comfortably and the hem fell lower on her thighs than she'd worried it would, though the fabric parted and cut up her legs a few inches in the center, it didn't come up so far that she needed to be concerned about flashing anyone. The low cowl neckline showed off her ample chest without displaying her breasts too obviously in the way a v-neck or a strapless dress would have.

Bouncing excitedly on her toes, she pulled the door to the dressing room open and nearly ran into Lydia as she exited. Amber reached up to grab Lydia's arms and the redhead blinked at her wide-eyed for a moment.

"That dress is perfect." Lydia told her, stepping back to drag her quickly toward the large mirrors.

She stumbled as Lydia tugged her back up onto the platform and positioned her this way and that before stepping back with a nod of approval and heading back into her dressing room. Amber blushed underneath all of the attention and turned around with a nervous grin, holding her arms out for the boy's to assess her.

"I skipped right to the one we both liked." She told Ben, her eyes flicking over to Stiles anxiously for a second.

"It's great," Ben agreed, "It's good. You look really pretty."

She smiled before angling her body slightly toward the other boy, "Stiles?" She asked gently, "What d'you think?"

"I- Um," Stiles started dumbly, "It- Good. It looks good. You're perfect. I mean, it-" He shook his head in frustration, "It looks perfect.. On you."

Amber stood frozen for a moment at the compliment, something fluttering violently in her stomach as she slowly nodded. She actively struggled to tear her gaze away from the constellation of moles dotting Stiles' cheek to look over at Ben.

"I guess this one wins then!" She announced enthusiastically, hoping to deflect attention from the way Stiles' comments had affected her.

The boys both nodded, eyeing her dress distractedly.

"Right," She said after a second, fighting the urge to look over at Stiles again, "I'm gonna go get changed then."

She rushed off toward the dressing room and closed the door, leaning back against it and thumping her head against the wood dramatically.

Stiles Stilinski was going to be the death of her.

On Wednesday afternoon, Amber tossed her Chemistry notebook across the bed with a huff and flopped onto her back. She fell perpendicular to where Stiles was sitting upright and dropped her head to lay across his knees.

"How am I supposed to focus on things like school and formal when Derek is out there, chained up at Kate Argent's mercy and-"

"Scott will figure out how to find Derek, alright?" Stiles sighed, "Besides, the guy's a werewolf. He'll be fine."

He dropped his textbook onto the bed beside them as he spoke and reached out to grab a lock of hair that had fallen across her face, pinching it between his fingers before letting it drop down onto his thigh. He moved a hand to rest at the top of her head and tangled it into her hair, his fingertips scraping gently through the strands.

She looked up at him sadly, "What if they kill him?"

He continued massaging her scalp softly and shook his head, "They're not gonna kill him, remember? Not until they figure out a way to track down Peter."

She heaved a deep breath and nodded against his legs. Her eyes traced over his face from below and she paused with a soft smile as she noticed something at the tip of his nose. She reached up and pressed her finger softly into the tiny groove that started at his cupid's bow and continued up onto the tip of his nose.

"What are you doing?" He laughed, pushing her hand away from his face.

"The little dip above your lip," She started, poking at his nose again, "It keeps on going along the bottom of your nose. I never noticed it before."

"Stop it," Stiles laughed again, grabbing her fingers in his free hand and tugging them away from his nose, "I don't even know what you're talking about."

"It's kinda like the dimple some people have on their chins," She explained, her eyes flicking back and forth between his and the tiny divot in the skin between his nostrils, "Some people have a butt-chin. You have a butt-nose." She told him with a quiet laugh.

"I have a butt-nose?" He repeated in disbelief, still trapping her right hand in his grip, "Thanks so much."

Amber reached up to touch his nose softly again with her unrestrained hand, tracing her fingertip along the tiny groove.

"It wasn't an insult," She murmured, "It's cute."

"Alright, alright," Stiles told her, removing his hand from her hair to pull her other hand away from his face, "Well, we can't all have perfect noses and perfect lips and- And perfect everything else."

She blinked up at him silently for a few seconds, continuing to study his face even after he averted his gaze to look around the room.

"But you do." She told him in a hushed voice, watching his eyebrows furrow before he looked down at her again, "Anyway!" She continued quickly as her nerves got the better of her, "We should get back to studying. I only have until five so we need to-"

"What's happening at five?" He asked curiously, watching as she sat up to grab her notes again and flip through to the next page.

"Oh, Ben and I are gonna go get dinner." She told him distractedly, reading through her notes with a frown.

"You and Ben are going on, like-" He paused, "An actual date?"

"Mhm," She hummed, "He said he wanted to do a, and I quote 'pre-date date.'"

"A pre-date date." Stiles repeated slowly.

"Yeah, I mean, we don't really know each other all that well and if we're gonna be spending all of Friday night glued to each other's sides-"

"Right." He grumbled, drawing out the word slightly.

Her attention tore away from her notes moved to the boy beside her, "Is that cool? I know that only gives us another hour to study but-"

"It's fine," He reassured her quickly, "This unit's not bad anyway. I don't think we have much left to go over."

She smiled in relief, grabbing a highlighter and flopping onto her stomach beside him to compare their notes from class that day. They studied for another thirty-two minutes before there was a loud knocking from downstairs. They both looked up in surprise and Amber rolled off of the bed, abandoning their books to head toward the hallway.

"I'll go see who it is." She told Stiles quickly.

She made her way downstairs toward the front door nervously, and when her hand finally wrapped around the knob, she hesitated for a moment in a panic, worried about who might be on the other side. She wondered in terror it would be Kate Argent again, here to violently question both her and Stiles, or the possibility that it could be Peter, making a home visit to do his own version of an interrogation on how he might be able to locate Derek.

She pulled her shaking hand back and moved to peer out the window beside the door, tugging the curtain back a couple of inches until she could see who was standing on the front porch.

It was Ben Davis.

She moved back to the door and flipped the lock before swinging it open to reveal the boy on the other side.

"You're early," She greeted him, leaning back to look at the clock on the wall, "Like, really early."

"I know," Ben admitted with an embarrassed wince, "Sorry."

"No, no, that's okay," She reassured him quickly, "No biggie, I just need to-"

"This is for you." He interrupted, looking adorably nervous. His arm shot out to hand her a beautiful pink rose that she had somehow failed to notice when she answered the door.

"Oh!" She said in surprise, taking the flower, "I- Thank you." She smiled and looked down at the flower, twirling the stem slowly between her fingers and watching it spin around.

"I bought you a bouquet of flowers." Ben blurted out suddenly.

Amber's eyes dropped down to the single flower she was holding between her fingers and blinked.

"I-I did get you a bouquet of flowers," He corrected, "But then my little sister told me that was way too much for a first date and I was gonna look desperate. So we eventually settled on one and she just kept the rest," He explained, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and staring at the small pink flower with a frown, "-But.. Now that I'm thinking about it, I think I might've been conned out of a bouquet of flowers by an eight year old."

Amber laughed and stepped back into the house, gesturing for him to follow her in.

"Well I think the single rose is very classy," She told him, guiding him toward the kitchen off of the entryway, "I just need to run up and change my shirt real quick," She pulled at the sleeves of the ratty hoodie she was wearing, "If you give me like five min-"

Stiles suddenly came bounding down the stairs behind her, feet thumping as he descended the hardwood steps, "Who was at the door?" He asked, stumbling to a stop in the kitchen with a frown, "Oh. Hey, Davis."

"Stilinski." Ben nodded in acknowledgement with a smile, "What's up."

"Stiles and I were studying for Chem," Amber explained as she walked over to pull a tall drinking glass out of the cupboard for her flower, "We work really well together."

"Right, yeah. You guys are lab partners, right?" Ben asked conversationally.

"Among other things." Stiles said vaguely, narrowing his eyes and leaning against the doorway.

"Uh, right. Sure," Amber agreed awkwardly, "Anyway, so. I need to go get changed-" She started, looking at Stiles and nodding her head toward the stairs behind him, "Is your backpack still in my room?"

"Yeah," He affirmed, keeping his gaze locked on Ben, "Would you mind grabbing it for me? I'll stay down here and keep an eye on your date." He said the word with distaste and Amber snorted as she brushed past him.

"Be nice, will you?" She whispered, squeezing Stiles' shoulder as she walked by. She turned to look at Ben one more time, "Five minutes." She promised.

She rushed up the stairs, brushing her teeth in the bathroom quickly before heading to her bedroom to change her shirt. She was tugging her oversized sweatshirt over her head when she suddenly noticed that all of Stiles' books were still sprawled across the top of her bed. With a sigh, she moved to close and collect them all, bending to stuff them into his backpack and zipping it up. Once she'd gotten Stiles' things together, she grabbed a soft tight-fitting sweater out of her closet and pulled it over her head.

When she got back downstairs, the two boys were sitting in awkward silence at the kitchen counter. Ben's gaze was on the flower where it rested in a glass on the countertop opposite of them, and Stiles' gaze was focussed on the doorway that led upstairs as he tapped his fingers restlessly against the stone of the counter.

"Sounds like you guys are having a riveting conversation." Amber joked, holding Stiles' backpack out to him.

Both boys stood from their stools quickly and looked at her like they were waiting for direction.

"Okay-" She said slowly, "Stiles, I'll see you tomorrow?"

He frowned and pulled his bag over his shoulder, "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow." He stepped toward the doorway of the kitchen and hesitated before turning back around, "Are you driving to school or did you want a ride?"

"Oh, right! Um, can you give me a ride tomorrow?" She asked, "I mean, do you mind? If not, I can-"

"I don't mind." He assured her quickly, his gaze flicking over to Ben one final time before he turned to leave.

"You ready to go, too?" She asked the boy beside her.

Ben nodded, following behind her as she slowly walked toward the front door and tugged her shoes on.

"You look really pretty." Ben said quietly as she stood upright again.

She blinked in surprise at the openness of his simple compliment, "Oh, I- Thanks." She said quietly.

She turned to lock the door behind them when they stepped outside, her mind stuck on his sweet comment about her appearance.

A small smile took over her face as her mind brought up flashes of the night she and Stiles had gone to the lacrosse party to watch over Scott. She recalled the way he'd looked at her in the darkness of the Jeep before he'd told her how nice she looked. Her stomach fluttered at the memory.

She shoved her keys into her pocket with a shake of her head and turned to look up at Ben's handsome face while he walked her over to the passenger side of his car.

She was on a date with Ben and was going to be great.

The date had gone pleasantly well.

They'd gone to a burger place out of town that apparently hosted a trivia night every Wednesday, though when the hostess had told them this, Ben had paused awkwardly and looked over at his date in obvious distress.

Amber laughed and grabbed an answer sheet from the table beside the door before pulling him over to a table where they had eaten what was quite possibly the best burger she'd ever had. They'd also managed to lose spectacularly at trivia, answering a whopping six out of twenty-five questions correctly.

Upon stepping out of the restaurant, she'd spotted an ice cream shop across the street and had looked at Ben with wide excited eyes until he laughed and pulled her to the other side of the road and into the store. He'd paid for her to get a vanilla milkshake and she sipped on it happily, trying her very hardest not to focus on the fact that her favorite milkshake in the world was still from Mal's Diner.

Once her stomach was filled with a good portion of the cold ice cream, she shivered violently and Ben suggested they go back to sit in the warmth of the car while she finished her shake. Nodding with obnoxiously chattering teeth, she followed him down the sidewalk and back to the spot where they'd parked along the street before dinner.

Inside the car, Ben kindly cranked the heat and she sighed with another violent shiver as she felt the hot air blow out across her skin. Neither her ancient car nor Stiles' Jeep had heat that worked so well. She leaned back into her seat comfortably as the temperature in the vehicle rose quickly. She sipped on the final dregs of her milkshake as Ben continued a story detailing some of the trouble his little sisters loved to cause him.

When she finished her drink, Amber slid the styrofoam cup into the pocket on the side of the passenger door and out of the way. She pulled her leg up and turned in her seat to face him but found him already looking over at her with a soft smile on his face.

"What?" She asked shyly, biting at her lip nervously under his rapt attention.

"You just look really pretty," Ben admitted quietly, "Your cheeks are all pink from the cold and-" He paused.

She blinked, fidgeting in her seat, "And?"

He huffed out a nervous breath, "And your lips are all shiny from your milkshake and I really want to kiss you."

She blinked in nervous silence at the confession.

"Would that be okay?" Ben continued quietly, "If I kissed you?"

With a nod, she swallowed and leaned forward in her seat slightly, watching him shift closer. She felt him let out another breath against her mouth and then his lips were pressed softly against hers.

He reached up a hand to hold the side of her face and the gentle press of his fingers behind her ear made nerves erupt in her stomach. She leaned further into his space and fisted a hand into the front of his shirt to pull him closer. When he opened his mouth against hers, Amber let her tongue trace lightly over his lip and his grip on the side of her face moved to tangle lightly in the hair at the back of her neck.

When his left hand dropped to rest on her waist, she groaned quietly into the kiss and the brush of his tongue against hers was quick before he moved to press soft kisses along her cheek. His lips slid down and left small pecks to the side of her face and she let out a shaky breath into the quiet air of the car as he moved in the direction of her neck.

His mouth trailed down to place a kiss to the sensitive skin below her jaw and she clenched her hand tight where she had fisted the fabric of his jacket. She thoughtlessly tipped her head back to give him better access to her neck and when his teeth bit down softly on the sensitive skin, she couldn't hold back a quiet moan.

"Stiles." She whimpered softly as she tilted her head back further.

Ben pulled back quickly, still hovering above her where he had leaned into the passenger seat, "What?" He asked.

"What?" She repeated, still feeling dazed.

"Did you just- Did you just call me Stiles?"

"What? No." She denied immediately. The pounding of her pulse in her head slowed and cleared her mind painfully fast, her stomach dropping, "Did I?"

"You definitely did." Ben answered, leaning back until he was fully in his own seat again. He was twisted sideways to face her still and the car remained silent for a few long seconds.

"Oh. My god." She finally said, horrified. She put her hands over her cheeks to hide the flush embarrassed that covered them, "Oh my god. I-I am so sorry."

"I, uh.. No worries." Ben turned to face forward again and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. Amber couldn't help the fleeting image in her brain that the action brought up of another boy's fingers doing the same and she shook her head violently to clear out the thoughts as he continued, "So, um. I should get you home then, I guess."

He shifted the car into drive and they pulled out onto the road. Her heart felt like it was residing somewhere in her gut and she felt physically sick from the embarrassment.

"Please don't- Don't tell anyone that I-" She pleaded, losing her voice and dropping her trembling hands into her lap.

Ben laughed quietly, "I'm not exactly about to brag about it in the locker room. What would I even say? 'I was so good that she moaned some other guy's name.'"

"Fair point." She laughed quietly, still feeling slightly sick.

They drove in silence for five long painful minutes before Ben broke it, gripping the steering wheel tightly, "So, you and Stilinski, then?" He prompted, gaze flicking over to her for a second.

"Oh, uh. No." She told him, "Just friends."

"You, uh.. You think about all your friends like that when other people are kissing you?" He asked amusedly, raising his eyebrows.

"N-no," She laughed awkwardly, "I guess I don't."

He nodded slowly, a small smile of acceptance on his lips, "Did you still want to go to winter formal together on Friday?"

Her head snapped around to look at him in surprise, "You would still be my date to formal?" She asked incredulously, "After that?"

He shrugged, turning his attention to smile at her reassuringly before looking back out at the road, "I got the most attractive girl in school to agree to be my date. If I let that opportunity pass me by, I'd never forgive myself."

She blushed awkwardly, "You really don't have to flatter me after I just ruined our pre-date date."

"It's hardly flattery if it's the truth." He told her, "In all seriousness, I'm not going to cancel on you two days before formal. And it's not exactly a hardship to hang out with you as friends. Of course I'm still gonna take you."

"God." She whined quietly, distressed at how nice he was being, "You really do not deserve this."

"I mean, now that I know, I honestly feel kind of stupid for being so blind to it before," Ben said, "You and Stilinski, I mean. It's pretty obvious when I'm looking back on it now."

"It is?" She asked with a frown.

He snorted quietly, "Yeah, it is."

She sighed a deep sigh and thumped her head back against the headrest, remembering the feeling of Ben's mouth on her neck. She couldn't forget the brief moment, with his lips and teeth on the underside of her jaw, where her mind has supplied her with a picture of Stiles' mouth instead.

The image was now burned into her brain, and she wondered if it would ever fade.

[materlux]

I had an idea

Okay, so, we know the empowered population have different auras, dependent on what they are.

So i was thinking, what if does auras felt different, not just from power to power, but also person to person.

Maybe they feel different dependent on personality, or maybe peoples personalities reflect their auras.

While thinking of this, i came up with a couple of ideas for some of the characters:

Huxley: Being an earth elemental means his aura must reflect that; i fell like Huxley is hike in the woods (like the one audio), you've gone of the main path and are by yourself. The birds sing around you, the leaves rustle gently in the wind, gravel crunches under your shoes. The sun is high in the sky, shining down between the conopy above, it's calm and friendly, and sort of homey.

Imp!Huxley: Imp!Huxley's aura would be a stark constrast to Huxley's, and yet the same scene; your in the forest, you were just hiking down a known trail, when you somehow got lost. The woods are endless, sretching for miles. The sun has set, and know the moon watches over you, casting little light around you. Twings and branches snap all around you, you are being surrounded by something. His aura is unnerving, scary.

Kody: Kody's aura is violent and hostile, as a water elemental i feel his would be something akin to a raging ocean, dark clouds stretch over top tall white capped waves. The ocean roars arund you, threatining to drag you down, to consume you.

Lasko's listener: In comparison Lasko's listener's aura is much mor gentle and calming; it's a quiet stream deep in the woods. Gently running over rocks, and carring sticks and leaves. The sound of the water running drowns out any fear the woods hold. It welcomes you to run your fingers through it's cool water, to follow it as it bends.

Damien: Damien's aura is warm, that is a given, but it's not a burning warm. It's a campfire in the woods, warming the night and keeping animals away. It's a fireplace in a cabin in the dead of winter, keeping you warm as you curl up infront of it. It warms you to your bones, but it never burns. It feels safe.

Lasko: For a nervous guy, i think his aura would be relaxing. An endless field of grass with specks of colourful flowers. Wind blows over the grass, sending waves over the grass and making the flowers bounce. The endlessness of the field is eerie but the wind welcomes you, pushes you around the field. As his emothins vary so does the strength of the wind.

Xavier: We didn't see much of him, but i wanted to do a fire contra elemental just to explore the ideas. Xavier's aura, to me, would be an open snowy field, surrounded by a thick spruce forest. Snow slowly falls from the sky, the wind blows and howls around the trees. The wind is strong and chills you to your core, but it doesn't hurt, nor do you shiver. It's strangely welcoming and comforting.

Freelancer: This one is the hardest, because a freelancer can learn and control all elements, i think it would vary. Some times it's a mix of things, a forest fire, a sunny warm beach, a rainstorm with strong winds, and so on. Any combination is possible, and can be overwhelming, not only to the freelancer themselves but people around them. This one really is just up to interpretation, whatever feels right.

Gavin: Gavin is an incubus, but he still has an aura that others feel. To me it's soft sheets and scented candles. A marble statue surrounded by blooming roses, the smell is overwhelming. It's gentle touches and quiet words, that form into a sensation of love, lust and desire.

[alex51324]

Ruins and Structures!

More pics from my trip! The ruins of the old hunting lodge (featured in my highlights post) are located along a short and easy trail that leads to a popular wading spot:

(I'm putting this photo again, because it came out pretty well, I think!)

There's quite a bit of it still standing, including the fireplace and chimney:

Several partial walls, some with intact window openings:

And a small, intact outbuilding:

Another ruin is located along a trail leading to the waterfall:

This one is more mysterious--the park website and brochure don't give any information about what it was, and there's a lot less of it standing than of the lodge.

The fireplace is lined with bricks, so it was probably, like the big ruin, a 20th-century camp or vacation cottage, built in an intentionally rustic style, rather than an actual settler's cabin. But that's about all I could figure out.

I don't have any pictures of the waterfall, because about 2/3 of the way through this hike, it started pouring rain and we got a little bit slightly lost. There were some trees down on the trail, from a big storm they had earlier in the spring. The first snag, involving several trees that fell in parallel, after a few moments of looking I was able to spot a detour trodden by the feet of previous hikers, around the obstruction and back on the trail.

The second one was just a single big tree, which had come to rest at an angle, so that at one end there was about a yard-or-meter between the trunk and the ground, and we just scrambled under it.

It was at about this point that the rain started, by the way. A drizzle at first, the kind of thing where you think, "That's fine; I won't melt, and anyway it'll probably stop in a few minutes anyway."

(Spoiler: It did not!)

The third one was a major snag, where one large tree had taken down a number of smaller ones on its way down, and they were all tangled like if you dropped a box of spaghetti on the kitchen floor. we detoured around it, again, and on the other side there was, as far as I could see, no trail.

Immediately past the obstruction and continuing in the same direction as the previous stretch of trail, there was a field of suitcase-sized boulders. (Big checked-luggage ones, carryons, and toiletry-case sized ones scattered in between.) To the right, uphill, there was an impenetrable thicket formed by the crown of the main fallen tree and some shrubs it fell on. (Sophie's vote was for that direction, but most likely it was because a deer had been that way at some point.)

Also, by this point the rain had picked up to the point that it was undeniable that this was an actual storm--and I had, in the last half-hour or so, passed three striking examples of what a big storm can do to this particular patch of woods.

So I set off toward the right, downhill. Short of turning back--which I didn't want to do, because I knew I was well over halfway through the hike, which was supposed to be a loop that would take me back where I started--that way was the most passable of the options: it was mostly hemlock there, and hemlock suppresses undergrowth. Also, downhill was where the stream was, and the road roughly parallel to it, so that was definitely the direction I ultimately wanted to be going; all in all I managed to convince myself that it might be the actual trail.

Meanwhile, the rain was continuing to pick up, and it was getting darker--even though it wasn't even 5 PM--and right around the time I was beginning to admit to myself that I was definitely not the trail, the thunder began.

I remember saying, "Sophie, we might actually be in some trouble here," and pondering how silly it would be if I managed to end up starring in a thrilling story of survival against the elements, less than half a mile from the park's most popular parking lot.

But we kept going, for lack of any better ideas, and within a few moments I saw a roof, a little further downhill.

I figured right away that it had to be one of the privately-owned cabins--and that meant we had to be pretty close to the road (and the people it belonged to had to have a way to get to it), so yay! We were no longer lost.

Approaching the cabin--which was enormous--I entertained a brief fantasy about the people it belonged to inviting us in to wait out the storm, perhaps offering towels and hot drinks. And also a brief fantasy about the people it belonged to emerging to berate us for trespassing.

Around the time it was becoming clear that neither of those scenarios was likely--because the people weren't there--the rain, which was already going at a pretty good clip, intensified further; it was like someone was pouring out a bucket. We scrambled into a little nook by the cabin's back door, about the size of a phone booth, and considered our options.

It was dry enough in there to get my phone out, but there was no signal, so that didn't help. From out spot in the nook, I couldn't figure out how the cabin-people got to the road--I knew where it had to be, but there was no sign of of a driveway or path or anything.

Also the nook was really small and boring, and the rain wasn't slowing down at all, so after a few minutes of that, we decided to seek out the front porch.

Here is the front porch:

Like I said, it was a big cabin. (I turned on the lights, because it really was very dark.)

And there was a little plaque, explaining where I was:

If you can't make it out, it says:

Na-Wak-Wa Lodge Constructed in 1919 as the summer retreat of the Nature Study Club of Pittsburgh. Restored in 1990-1997 by Gilbert H. Brown Jr., (1961-2020). A devoted Christian, true craftsman, loving family man, and friend. The Crivella Family.

So yeah, this place, which is still in use as a vacation house, is roughly contemporary with the Rod and Gun Club that is now the ruins down by the creek--actually a little bit older, probably! (I wonder if there was a rivalry between the Rod and Gun guys and the Nature Studiers?)

We stayed there for about an hour, until the rain finally slackened off. While we were waiting, I saw the headlights of a car going past, so I knew that the road was in the direction I thought it was--although a lot further downhill than I would have guessed. It turned out that this lodge is connected to the road by two or three very steep stone staircases and a little footbridge over the stream. (I wouldn't be surprised if the Nature Studiers had servants to carry their things up and down.) By the time you get down to the road, the whole place is completely hidden--I looked for it every time I passed by, and never got another glimpse of it. I kind of wish I had more pictures, since it was a neat old place, but I didn't want to risk my phone taking them in the rain, and of course I couldn't go back another day; taking shelter on their porch during the storm is pretty justifiable under the code of the outdoors--especially since I wasn't totally sure where I was or how to get back to where I was supposed to be--but going back on purpose would be trespassing.

Anyway, once we found the road, it was about a ten-minute walk back to the car, and by the time we got there, the rain had just about stopped entirely. We went back to the cabin and I built a fire to dry our things and cook some supper, and that was the first day of our vacation.

(We went back the next day and hiked the trail in the opposite direction, to see the waterfall and also figure out what went wrong. No pics because I forgot my phone in the car that time, but it turns out we were supposed to have taken the field of boulders. It probably worked out for the best that we didn't; they were tricky enough--and fairly slippery--the next day; trying to do it in a downpour and in the dark would have been frankly hazardous.)

[cyberrat]

79th Batch Of Fics: 11th Fill

Jack/Reinhardt; Jack/Reaper – Part ⅓ – evil!Reaper; brainwashing; gloating; no happy end – Jack and Reinhardt have been happy together for years. Then Reaper finds out. It's not going to be pretty.

---

“My love! What is that frown about?!” Reinhardt has stepped out onto the porch with two huge coffee mugs in his equally huge hands. His attention is fixed on Jack, sitting in one of the porch chairs, a sour expression on his face as he stares out into the forest.

He must have been deep in thought. As Reinhardt’s voice booms through the otherwise quiet morning, he flinches, his expression going through all sorts of complex emotions before settling on a rueful little smile.

“Old habits die hard,” is all he mutters as he reaches for one of the mugs Reinhardt offers to him, wrapping his perpetually cold hands around it. He doesn’t take a sip from it yet, just staring into it.

Reinhardt watches him for a moment or two before he steps closer and puts an arm around him, gently pulling his lover against his hip. They’ve been together for long enough that he knows he won’t just be able to get him out of this melancholy mood by being especially loud.

Jack simply is someone easily prone to… well… depression. It is one of the things he’s had to learn about him.

“What say you I pack our lunch and we go on a hike?” Reinhardt asks eventually once their mugs are about half-way done and he can feel Jack leaning a bit into him in acceptance of the comfort.

Jack is quiet for a moment, thinking about it; then he nods.

“That is actually a pretty good idea. Let’s do that.”

Reinhardt puts his mug down on the little table in front of Jack. He has to fold himself down quite a ways to press a kiss into the thinning hair of his lover.

“Back in a bit!” he announces before trudging inside – not knowing that these are the last words he and Jack would ever exchange.

.oOo.

It is just that weeks ago… they got found and they had known nothing about that. It’s not that they had been hiding, per se… though maybe they should have.

Reaper had been searching for Jack for so long that he had been wondering whether the old bastard had gone and died on him without his permission. His scouring is always a shot in the dark; more routine than anything else between Talon missions and visits with the scientists keeping his body up and running.

He hadn’t even really expected to find him anymore – when suddenly his body’s signature had been found, deep in a forest surrounded by nothing for miles on end. Reaper’s nanites had immediately perked up, body heat raising a few degrees with excitement. There had been no question to him about it that this must be Jack. Only his old lover would imagine his retirement to be perfect in absolute solitude.

However, as Reaper sends the drone closer to inspect the premises, the grin on his face freezes when he realizes slowly but surely that… Jack is not living in solitude.

In fact, he knows the giant that had been walking around behind the house, gathering and stacking fire wood.

Reinhardt Wilhelm.

Reaper’s blood had begun to boil, slowly but surely, his anger rising with every little thing he’s witnessed, realizing that they must have been living there for years. Peaceful and in harmony with themselves.

Jack had come out of the house, only wearing a loose pair of pants, hugging his behemoth lover from behind and pushing up against his back.

Reaper’s hand had slowly curled into a fist, sharp talons digging fine grooves into the metal of the console.

Jack… is his. Reaper has claimed him before anybody else. He has had him and marked him and nobody else has the right to put their fingers on his property.

Oh, and Reinhardt is putting his fingers all over him.

Reaper spends days watching them from the shadows, looking at everything they’re doing and listening to everything they’re saying. The more he realizes how long they must have been together like this, the more his blood is starting to boil.

Has Jack forgotten about him? Has he forgotten that he belongs to Reaper? Has belonged to him before everything went to shit? That Reaper has all but carved his name into his flesh to mark him as his property?

They whisper sweet nothings to each other. They move around their little house easily, slipping around the other’s body without any second thoughts.

They have routines.

Reaper kills ten Talon agents in a blood red seething rage once he realizes just how deep their relationship goes. Jack is not only fucking this behemoth. He loves him. And Reinhardt loves him.

They are in love and Reaper is dragging his claws through the intestines of some worthless maggot because Wilhelm isn’t there to take the brunt of his impotent rage.

He would have Jack back. He would have him back and he would make him his once and for all. He would scour his brain for every scrap, every morsel of affection for any other human being and rip it right out of him until there is nothing left but Reaper.

Reaper.

Reaper.

.oOo.

Reinhardt is puttering around in the kitchen. They have a small radio in there that is softly playing a song while he gets their snacks ready for a day out in the forest. He had not really anticipated going out today. Rather he had been looking forward to a day inside… both the house and Jack.

The thought makes him grin.

Oh well. There’s nothing really to it when the other is in a mood like this. He’s had to learn that getting louder and more exuberant would only cause his lover to retreat even more, all but doubling down on the dark mood he sometimes inexplicably finds himself in.

Oh well.

He pauses with the knife just about to slice into the tomato, staring at it for a moment, then turning to call over his shoulder: “My love! Are you in the mood for tomato today?”

It’s then that the air around Reinhardt suddenly… changes. It feels thicker and almost electric. His heart pumps faster. He might have been out of the game for quite a few years now but he has been a warrior for most of his life and his body still very much knows when to be on high-alert.

He turns, creeping toward the kitchen door. He half wants to call out to Jack again, but he doesn’t. His tongue is thick and heavy in his mouth. There’s nothing to be heard; not even the sounds of the forest all around him seem to reach any longer.

Reinhardt forces himself closer toward the front porch… when he hears the thick sound of ceramic hitting wood, immediately followed by its splintering.

Reinhardt’s body lurches forward, Jack’s name finally breaking out of his throat. He rips the door from its hinges in his haste to open it. His one good eye scans the perimeter. Nobody to be seen.

Not even Jack. The chair he had been in not five minutes earlier is vacated. On the floor at its feet are the shards of the mug Reinhardt had given him. The coffee is still steaming in a puddle but quickly cools down just like Reinhardt’s body as the situation sinks in like a weight.

Jack is gone.

[artificialqueens]

Mayhem Day 4: Staying at a Bed & Breakfast Together (Camgeria) - Mar

A/N: Happy May trope Mayhem everyone! The most wonderful time of the year.

You can find this on ao3

Tags for @duckprintspress: rpdr fanfiction, may trope mayhem, angeria paris van michaels, lady camden, camgeria, angeria x camden, fluff, mar 

***

“Here’s the schedule with all of the activities we have here at the lodge,” the receptionist said in the irritatingly cheerful voice she had not dropped since the couple arrived. “We have basket weaving at three, a lovely hike through the woods at four, and you will not want to miss the gazebo under our emblematic magnolias. It is very romantic,” said the woman, her tone getting ever higher in pitch. “Dinner is at five and I am sure you will blend in perfectly with all the other couples at the lodge. This is a very friendly, accepting place,” she emphasized, like she was saying it as a mantra to guide her own attitude. She cleared her throat and her smile got so wide, it looked like her face would split. “I will leave you two ladies to settle down, but don’t hesitate to call any of us if you need anything.”

With that, she scurried out of their room and left the guests alone.

Camden burst out laughing as soon as the door closed.

Angeria slumped back on the door with her eyes closed, one hand on her neck.

“I feel like my heart’s in my throat.”

“Told you they’d buy it,” Camden said too smugly as she lounged on the king bed. The only bed in the room, which Camden said was necessary, otherwise no one would believe them.

“I don’t know that the honeymoon discount was worth the five years of my life we just shaved off.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Camden said, rolling her eyes. “Didn’t you do theater in middle school? Here’s your chance to flex those muscles again.”

“I played Villager number three for one play, and in the next one, they made me be a mountain. A non-speaking mountain,” Angeria remarked. Camden pressed her lips to keep from laughing. “You can imagine what my muscles are.”

“Well, you sold it,” Camden said as she got on her knees and gave her a round of applause.

“Only thing I did was hold your hand and nod while you talked a mile a minute.”

“And you played your part admirably. Very convincing hand holding, Angie, enough to make a girl feel like a real newly wed.”

“Shut up,” Angeria said as she bit a smile and pushed Camden’s shoulder. The girl flopped on her back and made grabby hands at Angeria.

“Come cuddle your wife.”

“You don’t get to make wifely demands,” Angeria said, taking her sweet time discarding the layers of clothing she had needed to face the countryside autumn. “Put a real ring on it first, not like this cheap shit you got us,” she said as she waved the metal band on her finger.

“No premarital cuddles?” Camden pouted. “You’re strict.”

I’m careful, Angeria thought.

Cuddling was all fine and well when they were back home, with their friends, and enough distractions to keep Angeria’s thoughts away from how much she wished she could hold Camden all the time. But for a long weekend in a secluded lodge advertised specifically to couples for its romantic ambiance, Angeria knew it was the start of a bad idea. Like the one that had gotten them here in the first place.

“So… basket weaving…” Camden said carefully, reading the pamphlet she had picked up at the front desk. “Not really my style, but if my wife wants to go, I will happily join her. Or do you wanna go sample maple syrups? That could be fun.”

“It could, but I was promised a hot tub,” Angeria said. “It was the main selling point, in fact.”

“Yes, and we will definitely use it,” Camden promised. “But don’t you think the hot tub will be even better after coming in from outside, shivering and with numb fingers?”

“You are such a weirdo,” Angeria said as she got her outside clothes back on. What could she say? Camden knew how to sell her on anything.

“That’s why you married me,” Camden said as she jumped up from the bed and planted a noisy kiss on Angeria’s cheek. “Let’s hustle, now. I read that if you drink a pint of straight syrup, they give you one for free!”

Camden guided Angeria downstairs by the hand, playing up the lovey-doveyness in front of the hotel staff, kissing Angeria’s cheeks and calling her pet names that made her gag. Angeria played along as best she could, and she had to admit it was fun to fool everyone. It gave her a kick of adrenaline that was pleasantly soothed by the gorgeous view of the forest right outside the lodge, and the steady motion of Camden’s thumb stroking her knuckles, holding her hand even when no one was looking.

Angeria filled her lungs with an air very different from the one back home. They could hear birds, and leaves under their feet, and a distant brook they both headed too without thinking. All this wonder, while Camden held on to her. Maybe she could enjoy that part, too. Maybe it wouldn’t be bad to play honeymooners for the weekend.

[chilopodacrudus]

Who do you Want to Be? Chapter 7: Man's Only Friend

CW: Graphic depictions of violence; cannibalism, cults, (extremely NON romanticized) physical and verbal abuse, major character death, death, blood and torture

In which we reintroduce Doc; Piers' rottweiler. SPOILERS for the rest of the series; Doc does NOT die, do not worry.

Johnny’s gun wasn’t the only thing that Piers was worried about; the mention of having eyes elsewhere, he had no idea how deep this cult’s roots ran but he had to be cautious. Drawing in deep shaky controlled breaths as he follows behind the shivering Casey to their vehicles.

Piers: He had no read on Casey yet except ‘near constant panic’; he couldn’t blame the guy but Allison seemed to trust him, even care for him, so he had to get to know him, whether Casey wanted that or not. Piers stopped at Casey’s minivan first and placed his hands on the roof of the vehicle causing Casey to shudder. “Casey…” He spoke to him sweetly trying his best to not seem intimidating but they didn’t exactly start off on a good foot.

Casey: He flinched; he hadn’t heard his name called by anyone else but Johnny in so long and when summoned by the bastard it was never anything good. He kept his eyes away from Piers; he was terrified of him, even if he was also technically a captive just like him now. “What…” He spoke bluntly and sharp.

Piers: Grinning to himself he rolled his eyes and took Casey’s chin in his hand; stepping between Casey and the house. When he finally had the quivering man’s attention; he signed. “(Allison told me you know sign language.)”

Casey: His heart fluttered; though unlike Allison, he had long since given up, though something inside him lit up, albeit briefly. Allison trusted him enough to tell him this; he had no idea why but Allison was his only friend in the world so he had to trust her instinct. “(I taught her.)”

Piers: He looked pleased. “(Does Johnny have you wired?)”

Casey: Tapping his fingers at an earpiece and a place in his shirt pocket he nodded and looked away briefly.

Piers: He ticked his lip up; of course he would, oh well, at least they have this. “(No problem. Thank you Casey. Let’s get this over with.)” He patted the man’s back and headed over to his truck; noticing Johnny peering out of the window and ticking his fingers at him as he started it up. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles hurt but at least it was a long drive; he had time to go over things. He had time to pick at any cracks he could think of. Though he really had no idea what to do; he didn’t want to admit it to himself.

Piers and Casey both pull out onto the road and make their way to Piers’ home; Piers blasting his radio, Casey preferring to sit in total silence and wonder how horribly Piers was going to fuck this up.

Piers: He was used to ‘seedy places’; he hung around alternative punky spaces since childhood. Back alley band meetings in the witching hours to the light of burning trash cans, the sound of drunken people in a mosh pit, drugs and sex and loose morals. This is what he was used to but people like Johnny were different; they had money and money bought you enough power to do anything. He rolled his eyes wondering if anyone was sponsoring all this; Johnny was a coward until he found a string to pull in you and unfortunately, Piers had many strings.

Many miles later Piers motions to Casey with his hand out the window; they were pulling up on Piers home soon. His quaint ranch style house out in the woods on the far edge of a small town. And as he pulled up; Piers thanked whatever God was listening that Doc, his two year old adoring rottweiler, was jumping and pawing excitedly at the door to greet him. Doc: A sweet dog but a protective one. He loved Piers; Piers was his world, the definition of ‘loyal hound’ through and through. Piers kept him away from his violence; away from his real self, all Doc knew was tasty treats; belly rubs and hikes through the mountains. He was worried when Piers didn’t come home last night; though Piers was late some nights, he knew, he didn’t have the capacity to hold it against him. But something felt a bit off to him; who was this other man. He didn’t know this other man. Doc dropped to his fore paws and ruffed under his breath as Casey got out of the car. Was his best friend in trouble? He was well trained so a growl was all Casey got but he was ready and more than willing.

Piers: Walking up to the door he gave a sweet coo to Doc. “Hey boy...I know I know...don’t worry; I’m back but…” He turned his head towards Casey and ushered him to come closer. “This is Casey Doc...Casey is a ‘good man’…Casey I need you to let me touch you. Doc needs to know you’re safe.”

Casey: He was already in over his head; he liked dogs but he had zero trust in a dog raised by Piers. “...touch me..”

Piers: He grabbed at Casey playfully in front of Doc; wrapping his arms around him and fiddling with his hair. “See? Casey doesn’t hurt; Casey is a good man.”

Doc: He ruffed one more time but got the picture; Piers trained him to be very attentive to what he felt about people. Watching Piers ‘play’ with Casey made him calm down and start wagging his tail. Casey seemed fine; Casey was a friend. He whined and scooted back from the door allowing them both inside.

Casey: “Christ…”

Piers: He laughed at Casey’s nervousness as he brought him inside. “Sorry; if I didn’t do that you might have been dog food.” He ticked his mouth then signed. “(And thankfully for you; we need you, so I don’t want that.)” He winked at him and gathered Doc’s things; gave him a much needed can of food and then muzzled him, he knew Doc was going to hate Johnny, he knew this was going to go very...poorly but he couldn’t leave Doc alone.

Casey: Reading Piers words he shuddered ‘WE’ need you...who’s we? Then he thought; Allison, oh boy, Piers must have taken a liking to her. He swallowed and just let Piers do his thing; waiting for directions, he had questions but he was trained to never ask them, trained to not have feelings at all. When Piers finished up he followed after him; he wanted to pet Doc, he didn’t want to ask to, he was sure that Piers wouldn’t mind but he too, much like Allison, wanted some kind of positive touch. There were no animals in the cult; animals were nice, he thought, animals were soft and warm and non judgmental. He shook away that basic desire and pulled out of the driveway behind Piers when Johnny’s voice snapped into his ear causing him to clench up.

Johnny: “What’s the status here Casey; been a bit.”

Casey: “W..we’re just leaving Piers’ house...we’re on the way….home.” He choked out the word; that word had long lost it’s meaning.

Johnny: “Got it. I’m sending some money to your card; go ahead and get that shopping done if you can.”

Casey: Shit. He thought; how was he going to tell Piers this he was already pulling out. He fumbled with his window and leaned his head out yelling as loud as he could; it felt nice to yell sometimes. “PIERS...HEY!”

Piers: Seeing Casey in his mirror he stopped at the end of the long driveway and sighed in a half amused way; Doc wiggling and strapped into the seat next to him, he rolled down the window and yelled back. “YEA?”

Casey: “WE NEED TO GO GET THE GROCERIES.”

Piers: He squinted at Casey but he figured he had just gotten word from ‘the boss’ and rolled his eyes; ticking his hand out the window at him to confirm he heard him. Well this really was happening then. He pulled off into the direction of town; turning his music up so he can think. He was really into the idea of the whole grocery shopping thing before but things have taken a sharp turn. He wasn’t sure if he could think of a whole lot to even buy right now.

Turning into a local grocery chain he gets out and takes out Doc too; he had brought Doc here plenty of times, though Casey didn’t know that.

Casey: Getting out of his car he stared at Doc then at Piers; Piers knew what he was asking.

Piers: “Ain’t leaving Doc in a hot truck Casey.” He looked around at the people around them and clicked his tongue in his throat. “We’re an old couple aren’t we.”

Casey: He flinched though he knew Piers was kidding; they did stand out, just a bit but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. The grocery trip felt like it lasted for days in his mind; following behind Piers grunting and cursing to himself as he forcefully thought up recipes in his mind that would please his new found family. In the end Piers ended up with an entire buggy full.

Piers: He stood in the checkout line idly patting at Doc; then looked at Casey and caught his eye. “How much is the budget anyway.” He figured it would be fine but he wanted to confirm something.

Casey: “Anything you need…” He looked at Doc; Doc looked at him, Doc wiggled, he wanted to be sick with how much he wanted to cuddle him.

Piers: It was as he figured; Johnny was loaded, loaded enough to not care about a high grocery bill at least but he wanted to test the extent of that wealth, he put a tab in that thought and followed Casey’s eyes. “You like dogs?”

Casey: He jumped with his eyes wide; for a brief moment he didn’t know if he did or not, so used to not showing a personality. “Ye...yea I like...animals.”

Piers: He smiled and ushered Doc to move closer to Casey. “Well...he’s not gonna bite you.”

Casey: He took that as an offer but he hesitated; getting down on a knee he touched along Doc’s fur, an instant strong exhale as he finally gave into his desire and patted him all over, much to Doc’s delight. He laughed softly and then just kept doing so, he probably made everyone think he was insane but as Doc cuddled up against him and tried to lick at his face between the bars of the muzzle he couldn’t help himself. Kindness; he had found kindness. He ended up wrapping his arms around Doc and shivering; Doc laid his head along his shoulder and wiggled. Casey started to cry.

Piers: He frowned deeply; though softly, these people were truly broken. He briefly wondered if he had the same fate ahead of him but he pushed that into the back of his mind. He wouldn’t be broken and he decided; he was already taking Allison with him, Casey could come too. Gently tugging Doc’s leash and patting Casey’s shoulder as they got checked out and went back to the car, he was even more certain, somehow some way, he was going to bring Johnny down.

[crmsnmth-journal]

4/14/2024 9:00 PM

I had a really good Sunday. I didn't get much done at all, but I got to refresh my head. I went down to the river's edge and hiked to the bridge and back, about four miles all together. The woods are really waking up now that it seems spring is officially here. I'm not sure, but if I had to guess, we probably hit seventy degrees today. There's a tradeoff though, because now my room seems unreasonably hot. I won't open my window, because my screen has holes in it, and I really do not like bats in the house. I love to see them outside, but I do not like them flying around my house. They freak me out, and for some reason or other, rabies scares the absolute hell out of me. I don't mess with wild animals that can bite me and kill me with a disease that looks like something extremely horrible to go through.

I got my first negative "you suck" comments on one of my poems, and, maybe this is weird, but that makes me beyond happy. Sure, getting likes and reblogs, and nice comments are fun and all, but I was waiting until someone thinks I am so awful at what I love to do, that they need to tell me. If it's constructive, I'm all for it, and I will take those opinions with deep consideration, but to those who just tell me I suck, without really knowing anything about what I do, or more importantly WHY i do what i do, I feel sad for. Art critics. The idea of being a critic in any form of art fields is a laugh. Art is subjective. What I write means something different for someone else. What I see in my head is a totally different painting then the one hanging up on the wall. What I hear in music is far off from what someone else's ears hear. And that should be respected. I can't stand Taylor Swift, but I respect her place in the music world. I don't think Van Gogh paintings aren't all the beautiful, but I still consider him one of the masters but I'd put Robert S. Connet on that hill too. Memento dragged on, but Christopher Nolan is one of my favorite directors. And if you see something, and your thought is "wow, this sucks" and not "Let's try to make it better" maybe it's best you just shut the fuck up and let people have their thing. I will always love "You suck" comments, on the simple fact I've pissed one more stranger off.

But now, I'm sitting here, writing this and I'll write a few other lines while watching Melancholia for who knows how many times. I love me some Lars Von Trier films. The guy is a master at his craft. I need a break from Futurama anyway. As much as I love the show, after a bit some of the characters just irritate me and I can't do the show. I'm at a good spot to take a break anyway. The very beginning of the "movie" season.

Hopefully my brother turns up soon. They were headed into town so I sent them with some money to pack me up some soda and pop tarts. Yes, I know. I eat like a twelve year old. I don't care. I don't eat much, and when a strawberry poptart and a coke is all I can get down, it's healthier than not eating anything at all, right? Kind of ironic isn't it? A chef with no appetite. I can't remember the last time I ate something from where I work.

I did forget to take about Jolie yesterday. I've known her for years, as she used to run the kitchen in the American Legion at the same time I first took over the bowling alley kitchen. And we have always gotten along extremely well. It's always a good time when she's around. Just that kind of person. So she left the legion and hasn't done anything in the business since, but her and her husband are looking to buy a restaurant, and she offered me the job to come on has an actual head chef. I mean, I'd get to do menus again, and work with distributors and come up with stuff and have the actual fun parts of the job handed back. Of course, that means I'd also have to do the shitty parts too, budgets, scheduling, budgets, most maintence, did I mention budgets? Still, maybe it's a sign? I've been talking about how badly I want out of the alley, that maybe this is the universe giving me an option to do that, and maybe even re-light the fire and the passion for food to burn bright again?