#like he immediately ran off to make a bunch of dead fish floating in the river where the waste runoff meets the towns water supply

[unnamed-atlas]

There's something really funny to me about Mumbo spotting the "Free us" banner Bdubs built in the cyber punk city and going "oh wow that's so dark omg" only to immediately return to building the ecological disaster destroying and poisoning the farmlands and water supply of his hometown caused by the lab he works in. My man, I'm not sure you have room to judge in that department, actually aksglsgsksb

[its-warm-in-here]

Playing Pretend

I’m sorry I didn't get this up sooner. I gutted the end but here’s the first part of the first chapter of a Heisenberg x reader fic that will probably go on too long. This is more of a prolog. No smut yet! Written with a female reader in mind, but I may have versions for both m and f when the final product goes up. Gonna start out kinda fluffy before we get darker. Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated!

Summary: This summer trip to Romania was supposed to be momentous, life changing, and the bases for your master’s thesis. Too bad the villagers want you gone and this ‘Mother Miranda’ won't even see you. Luckily, you run into a greasy engineer who says he can help.

Or

Karl tries to take a day off from being ‘Lord Heisenberg’ with the cute stranger who wandered into the village. Things only spiral from there.

~2080 words

Miranda loved the yearly festivals. She always made a big show of the village, flowers and banners everywhere. The townsfolk would bring out their best clothing, even if their best was still black and brown. The dreary village would come alive with drinking, dancing and merry making. Even some of the neighboring villages would join in the festivities. The town would be near bustling, the local tavern would be full, laughter and song would echo from the church to the castle.

He hated it. All of it. Heisenberg avoided the celebrations, instead opting to stay holed up in his factory as much as possible. And it wasn't just because of the excess of people, while that didn't help. No, it was an insidious purpose for these gatherings. He exhaled a ring of cigar smoke.

First, boost morale through the village and reaffirm the people's faith in Mother Miranda. Second, and far more insidious, was to widen the flock, to expand her influence and bring in new blood for her experiments. The surrounding towns were just as small and removed from the rest of the world as Miranda's village. Made it easy to bring new blood under her wing. Youth would meet and marry, a drunk or four would go missing, and some of the visitors would become new members of Miranda's community. More meat for her Cadou grinder.

Heisenberg flicked the ash from his cigar and watched it float down before the wind caught it. The early morning view from the top of his factory wasn't bad. It was his own part of the world: no view of the village, the stench of the reservoir was nonexistent, and the most he could see of Castle Dimitrescu was a massive wall keeping their territory separated. Just him and his machines. He took another puff. As much as he planned to avoid today, Heisenberg knew that he would have to make at least some appearance. All the Lords did, even if it was just for a moment. Just another way to show her power; having all of her ‘children’ before the townsfolk. He grimaced at the thought. Târgul de Fete was set to start soon. At least that gave him the morning to get shit done. Heisenberg kicked a bit of metal scrap off the roof and it bounced off the scrap heap below with a ping! before landing in the dirt. He rolled his shoulder. Time to get to work.

---

"Well fuck you too!" You slammed the door behind you.  Why even bother going through the proper channels? No matter what, they turn you down, tell you to leave and treat you like an outcast. You spoke to towns folk, to village leaders, hell, you even wanted an audience with their 'Mother Miranda,' but she refused to even see you! You stormed along the path and the few people that had not made their way to the Târgul de Fete celebration steered clear of you, opting to give you a side eye and shuffle to their destination. All you wanted was to observe their festival, and maybe take a few pictures, but even that was negotiable. You had even offered to leave your camera behind with them for the day. Why hadn't you gone to Sweden with the rest of your class? No, instead you went to some culty, backwater town in Romania!

You kicked a rock, hard, sending it flying into the tall grass. "God Damnit!" This was supposed to have been your thesis! Supposed to be life changing! No, now you were just stuck, miles from any true civilization and being kicked out of some stupid, ramshackle heap, whose plants can't even grow right in a Romanian summer. Some of the plants were barely green, most appeared dry or yellowing. The flowers were either wilted and falling apart or hadn't even bloomed. You were no botanist, but you were certain that wasn't healthy.

You kicked another rock, it soared through the grass, but it struck something metal this time before landing with a thud. They didn't want you here, didn't want you at Târgul de Fete? Fine, but they didn't take your camera. Without thinking, you dug the old DSLR out of your bag and snapped a picture of the church.

And immediately deleted it.

You signed. Even if the villagers were a bunch of jackasses, this was their culture and they made it very clear that you were not welcome. Even if they had agreed to all this three months ago. And even if they had called you a bad omen, a poison and a danger to the whole village.  You weren't about to infringe. Crestfallen, you huffed your bag over your shoulder and began the trek back out of town. It was at least a four hour walk to your rental car and a good chunk of that walk was more of a hike. Not like there was much you could do other than leave after cussing out the town speakers and nearly slamming the door off its hinges.

The village had felt abandoned when you walked in, and now that everyone had headed off to a celebration, the village was positively desolate. No traditional brightly-colored dresses or intricate belts to be seen. And no wary or hostile glares from the inhabitants either. It was... quiet. Aside from the occasional crow, you might as well have been in a ghost town. It took you a bit to find the correct path out of the grave yard, but after spinning in circles for a good moment, you pushed past a red door and were back on your way. The village wasn't large, most of the paths were poorly maintained and the whole place was enveloped in a strange fish smell.

You bit the inside of your cheek. This was a good thing, really. Who would've wanted to stay in the ramshackle place for more than a few hours, let alone a few days? You groaned and kicked at the ground again. While not lacking in repellent attributes, the pagan worship of the place fascinated you.  They had their own religion but had incorporated traditional Romania holidays into their culture. Where else in Europe could you see that happen in real time? Of course, you could think of a couple of places, but you had picked here in the Carpathian mountains in particular! While you did have a second choice, you couldn't stop the self pity from setting in.

Ugh.

The village was relatively small and was quickly fading to forest, the castle that overlooked the town vanished behind you as you shuffled down a particularly steep part of the path. The trees here looked more normal, less sickly. While it was only marginally, you felt a bit better, a bit less mad. Stepping away from that place was a breath of fresh air.

Your boots skid a bit as you reach a flat spot. With a huff, you grip both backpack straps to center yourself.  If this couldn't be your thesis, that didn't mean you had to hate the walk. This was Romania afterall, when was the next time you were going to be here? The sky may be overcast, but it sort of added to the eerie charm of this place. You sidestepped your way down another steep incline, using one hand to grip overgrown branches for balance. The last step is a bit further, but you find your footing easily.

And the rock gave way under you, tilting forward with an abrupt grinding sound. A burst of panicked adrenaline rushed through as you struggled to stop. You pitch forward, stumbling over branches and underbrush, your eyes forcibly losing focus.

"The fuck?"

That wasn't your voice. You slammed full force into something, another body? And it gives under you. The other person takes the brunt of the fall, landing on their back with a distinct, "oof."

For a moment, you don't speak, too focused on catching the breath. Finally, your vision swims back and you find your voice, "Damnit... are you ok?"

The man under you goans, sitting half way up to look you over. His hair is grey, and a bit too long, but he couldn't be any older than forty, possibly younger. "Get off." Your eyes go wide and that panicked beat fills your chest. "Ya deaf? Off."

"Er, right," you scramble to your feet and, without thinking, extend a hand to the stranger, "Sorry about... that." You gestured vaguely to the path. "Lost my balance."

He lets out an exasperated huff, and knocks your hand away. For a moment, he doesn't acknowledge you, instead retrieving something from the grass behind him. He's wearing a loose linen shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up with black leather gloves. You force yourself to look somewhere, anywhere else, nervously bouncing from foot to foot. When he turns back to you, he has a tattered, wide brim hat in place and is looking over a pair of broken sunglasses. One of the lenses was clearly shattered, but he hooked them over his shirt collar, his attention finally turning to you. "You're not from around here, huh?”

You couldn't help but snort, "What gave it away, the wind breaker? Don't worry, I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" He repeats.

You start moving back to the path. "Yup, your village speaker has made that very clear."

"They were clear? Not all back and forth on it?" He chuckles, "That's impressive, they must really not like you."

You stare at him, was this a friendly face? It was certainly a handsome face, even with scarring and stubble. But a trustworthy one? "You sure you're ok? Didn't scramble that brain when I ran into you? The rest of the town was pretty dead set on driving me out."

" 'Cause they're a bunch of morons, sweetheart," he insisted, "All part of Mother Miranda's big, idiot mob."

"Huh," you are walking ahead on the path, and he's not but a footfall behind you.

"But they don't matter."

"No?"

"What matters is, why didn't they want you here?"

You stop, turning to face this stranger. He was gruff, and more than a little rude, but in comparison to the townsfolk, he was downright friendly. Hell, you were surprised he was so forward with you.  "Masters thesis," you put plainly, hoping he'll leave it at that.

"On what?"

"Anthropology."

He leaned in close. He wasn't that much taller than you, but you couldn't help but move away from his imposing figure. From this distance, you could smell motor oil and some kind of smoke on his clothes. "That's it?" You scoff, the sooner you are back in your car the better. "I just mean, it's surprising they'd want you gone. You sure there's nothing else? Didn't kick over any goat statues?"

"Not that I noticed," you started back down the path. You'd wasted too much time talking to this weirdo anyway. Just based on his demeanor and dislike of the rest of the village, you wonder if you'd maybe tripped over the town pariah. He certainly wasn't dressed like anyone else from the village.

"I could get you back in."

You stopped, not fifteen feet from him. "You're assuming I want to go back in." And didn’t you? You just risk getting yelled at again. But if there was a chance to write your thesis...

“Well, if you're not interested,” he turned to leave. You grit your teeth, your nails digging deep into your backpack straps.

“Hold up!" It doesn't take much to catch up to him. "How exactly are we going to do this?"

"My word carries a certain amount of weight," he carried on, "Though,  the village doesn't meet on these matters till next week."

"But what good does that-"

He isn't listening, "For today, I know a place you can watch the town. Besides, you're an Archeologist, you probably want an interview, right?" Of course he gestures to himself with a sort of half bow.

You roll your eyes, but still follow, "Anthropologist." He gives you a blank look. "I'm studying Anthropology, not Archeology."

He doesn't seem to care, instead pulling a cigar and lighter from his pants pocket. "Got a name?"

"Oh, (y/n). You?"

The stranger is part way up on the path you had tripped down. "Karl," he had extended you a gloved hand. You look from him to his hand, before brushing past him, pulling yourself up next to him without the offered aid.

[valhahazred]

Cryptid Mythos bonus! Everything that appears on this sheet is an entity reported by real people. Why no Mythos this time? Because these encounters are so strange in appearance or behavior that they could slip right into the Sothic multiverse with little to no alteration or alternative explanation. Good luck Investigators!

All Colours Sam In 1973, in the town of Sandown, 7 year old “Fay” and an unnamed friend encountered a very strange individual as they explored the fringes of a golf course. They first became aware of something weird going on when they heard a sound like an ambulance siren in the distance. Following the sound to a footbridge over a creek, the two children were confronted by a three fingered hand wearing a blue glove that beckoned them from beneath the bridge. Awaiting them was a seven foot humanoid figure wearing strange clownish clothing, seemingly reinforced with wooden slats that protruded from his sleeves and pant-legs. The figure had a book in his hands, which he immediately fumbled and dropped in the water. He splashed around cartoonishly before recovering his book, leaping out of the creek and away from the children. He moved to a small metal shed with a high-kneed hopping gait and disappeared inside. The children went to leave, only for the mysterious entity to exit again with a microphone that appeared to be the source of the wailing that drew the children in the first place. It spoke into the microphone in a friendly, non-threatening tone. “Are you still here?” The children were curious and unafraid, so they moved towards him. He held up his book and pointed at the words in order to introduce himself. “Hello and I am all colours, Sam”. They asked if he was human and he said no and when asked if he was a ghost he replied, “well, not really but I am in an odd sort of way.” The children asked what he was then and he simply said, “You know.” During their conversation with the entity they learned that although he went by Sam, he didn’t really have a name, he claimed that there were others like him and that he was afraid of humans and that he was a pacifist, refusing to harm others even if they should attack him. He invited them into his hut, where he shared some wildberries and showed them a magic trick, where he placed a berry into his ear and seemingly teleported it to his mask’s eyehole and then to his mouth with quick jerks of his head. They continued to converse for almost an hour before the children decided to leave. Was he an alien in a make-do disguise? An animated scarecrow? A figment of childish imaginations? Or just a strange homeless man dressed like a clown? Whatever the truth, All Colours Sam, also known as the Sandown Ghost Clown, was never seen again. The Crazy Critter of Bald Mountain This weird looking creature was sighted by three people in the week following a fiery object that passed over the Bald Mountain near Newaukum Lake in Washington. When the local Sheriff began an investigation into the sighting he was visited by heavily armed and uniformed men who claimed to be from the Air Force and forced him to give up the case. Old Saybrook Blockheads Mary Starr was awoken in the early morning on December 16, 1957 by a bright light shining into her bedroom. She looked out the window to witness a 30 foot cigar shaped craft hovering over her yard, less than 10 feet from her house! Inside the apparent spaceship she witnessed a pair of small creatures with fleshy skirts and clear cubic “heads” containing a floating red bulb. They raised their right arms and as a third entity appeared in the portholes the ship brightened before shooting off into the sky. Space Brains of Palos Verdes As John Hodges and Pete Rodriguez were leaving a party at two in the morning they were not expecting to meet anything from out of this world but as the car turned on its headlights illuminated two bizarre entities! The men panicked and drove away, ending the story for Rodriguez as he made it home with no complications. However, in Hodges case he next became aware of himself two and a half hours later in the driveway of his home, sitting in the car as if in a trance. Troubled by the missing time, he eventually went for hypnosis in an attempt to recover his memories of the night. While under regression he claimed that while he got his friend home safely, when he returned to his own residence the disembodied brains were waiting for him! He asked them what they wanted and suddenly he was elsewhere, in a dark room with entities that looked like the classic Greys but very tall and with webbed six fingered hands and yellow eyes. They explained that the brains were “merely translators” used in order for these beings to interface telepathically with humans. He claimed they warned him that Earth had “too much power” and showed him a map of the planet covered in lights that indicated places where humans might destroy themselves. They showed him images of dead planets and made several inaccurate prophecies before he suddenly found himself back in his car. Unlike many other abductees with similar experiences Hodges did not try to make excuses for their bunk predictions or feel like it made him important in any way. He simply assumed the aliens were untrustworthy and were playing with him. The Casa Blanca Entities This is one of the strangest and most confusing accounts of a Close Encounter of the Fifth kind, as eight children ranging from the ages of four to fifteen were terrorized by a parade of extraterrestrial monsters one summer day in 1955. It started with an array of UFOs, sun-like, disk-shaped and semi-transparent, appearing and disappearing with musical pings. Then came the entities. First was a ghostly being bearing a shiny belt buckle that was so brilliant it could blind someone looking straight at it. It was followed by disembodied arms in riveted armor that seemed to beckon to the children, small strange men that used dual ray guns to paralyze and finally a many limbed creature. All through this strange arrival something spoke to the children telepathically, offering to take them away. The kids they spoke to often seemed to be entranced, moving to the dancing UFOs mindlessly and required physical force or even being hosed down to snap them out. One child even fell off a roof in an attempt to reach a UFO, only to be protected by a red force field. The weirdest part of all is that not only did adults not see anything, they couldn’t. Despite being present for the event a mother of one of the children was unaware of the paranormal happenings. Does this mean it was all in the children’s heads, as they were overtaken by some kind of playground hysteria? Or is there some alien force that not only wants our children but can make themselves invisible to undesirable observers. The Garson Invaders In 1954 three of these insectoid entities appeared to Canadian miner Ennio La Sarza. Their appearance was already exceptional by the usual standards of reported alien contact but in a particularly striking detail their faces appeared to glow in colours La Sarza had never seen before! The beings asked La Sarza to do something for them but he refused, not only to do it but to even speak of it. It was so awful and “outright apocalyptic” that he even considered asking the RCMP to lock him up in case the creatures he’d met had some way to enforce his cooperation. The Poole Pyramid This multi-hued metallic pyramid appeared in 1965 to seven year old Terrence Druce of Poole in Dorset when he awoke to it hovering over the foot of his bed. He shrieked in terror, waking his younger brother in time for him to also witness it as it faded into thin air. That encounter might have never been recorded if the brothers hadn’t seen it again the very next day, lurking in a parking lot. They said it seemed aware of their presence and turned to watch them but it did not follow them when they decided to flee the scene. Delta Dogs An anonymous woman was driving through a snowstorm on route 07 through Syracuse in January 1958. She came across what at first seemed to be a downed plane but as she approached her engine slowly ran itself down and the car stopped itself. As she desperately tried to restart the car the snowstorm calmed and more details became apparent. Projecting out of the large object she’d thought was a plane crash was a 50 foot illuminated pole. Two strange beings rose up along the pole, floating by it as it started to retract. When the pole finished sinking into the object the creatures disappeared and the craft took off so fast she couldn’t make out where it went. The Electric Serpent of Tacoma This is easily the most unusual sighting of a sea creature that I’ve ever heard of. Seven men camping on the shore of Black Fish Bay in 1893 encountered a sea monster that appeared to be cybernetic, if not entirely biomechanical! Disturbed by a horrible noise and blinding lights the men left their camp to find a huge, hairy walrus-like animal with steaming horns, bands of coppery metal and a revolving propeller-like tail! One of the men approached it to get a better look, only to be struck by an electric blast from its copper bands and fell to the ground as if dead. When one of his friends tried to pull him to safety, he was likewise shocked by the impossible animal. The other men fled into the woods after seeing two of their number seemingly killed and the Electric Serpent seemed to lose interest and swam out into Puget Sound. Once they were sure it was gone the remaining men returned to the beach and were elated to find their friends burned and stunned but still very much alive! So what happened? Was it just one of the sadly common newspaper hoaxes of the time? Or did a bunch of 19th century fishermen find a literal fucking pokemon? You decide! Stickmen The Stickmen are an extremely recent phenomenon, with reports starting within the last 10 years or so. They are described as being stick thin and roughly humanoid, sometimes with bubble heads, glowing eyespots or even top hats. They range in size from human-like to towering in excess of 20 feet. What is most interesting about them is their apparent two dimensionality, sometimes appearing the same no matter what angle they are viewed at and sometimes being able to turn to the side and vanish as though they were never there. They are also frequently reported as being accompanied by a feeling like static electricity and of aggression or hostility. Despite those impressions the Stickmen do not appear to be hostile, instead seeming surprised and immediately retreating from a witness.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Norton & Constantine Pt 1

The following are excerpts translated from the Novel about Norton and Constantine. This was... a lot longer than I expected so I’m splitting it in two.

These only include areas where Norton (No. 13) and Constantine appear together. Other references are omitted.

Please enjoy!

------RONALD TANG’S DREAM----------

“Brother...”  Someone called softly in the darkness

It was really annoying! Who lost their kid?

“Bother.” The child called again.

Annoying, annoying, annoying! There is no ‘brother’ here!

“Brother... Then I’ll go.” The child whispered, his voice gradually growing silent.

Suddenly, he couldn’t bear that lonely, fading voice. It invoked the sight of a child’s back, slinking away like an abandoned hound.

“Okay, okay, okay! Which street and what house number do you live at? What’s the name of your unreliable brother? I’ll take you home!” He turned over and sat up.

A child dressed in bright white, like a camellia blooming in moonlight, sat on the floor in the sun, holding a writing case and making a long stroke.

“Hey, you’re not leaving? Are you kidding me?” He wanted to say, but he didn’t.

Instead, he did what came naturally. There was a plate of green grapes on the table. He picked a small bunch from it and handed it to the child across from him.

The child raised his head, his eyes flashed with panic, like an alert cub, “Brother, there are many people outside.”

Huh? He thought it was very quiet.

The next sentence also came naturally. “Maybe you will die? But, Constantine, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid. When I’m with my brother, I’m not afraid... but... why don’t you eat me? Eat me and you can break through any cage!” The child said seriously.

Eat you, he thought. Although you are very white and tender, it does not mean you are better than hamburgers. I just ate a hamburger for lunch and I’m not hungry.

“You are good food, but that would be too lonely. For thousands of years, only you and I were together.” He said, jokingly. “But death is really sad. It’s like being sealed in a black box, forever and ever. Pitch black, like reaching out in the dark and never touching anything.”

Looking at him, the boy’s clear pupils flashed in anticipation.  “The so-called destiny of the abandoned clan is to cross the wasteland, raise the battle flag again and return to our home. Death is not terrible, it is just a long sleep. Before you can swallow the world, it is better to sleep peacefully than to walk alone. We will still wake up.”

“Brother, if you raise the the battle flag and swallow the world, will you eat me?” 

Damn it! Is this a stage play of a drama between loving cannibals? These family ethics are really strange!

The child poured a glass of water from the pitcher, handed it to him, and he drank it.

“I’m leaving, brother, goodbye.” The child stood up.

He wanted to say that he was not his brother and you’ve got the wrong person, but he just casually said, “Goodbye, be careful. Don’t believe any humans.”

Again with the strange, bored lines.

The child went out and closed the door behind him. He listened to the child’s foot steps getting farther and farther away, until, finally, they completely disappeared.

Suddenly, he felt nervous. He thought he was getting faint. What would happen if such a young child got abducted because he let him go off on the street? He didn’t know how far he had to go to find his brother. He became restless, and when he finally couldn’t help it, he got up and ran to the door.

He opened the door, and the blazing light shone on his white clothes, not sun light but firelight. The city has been burning for days, charred human forms run crying in the fire. Thousands of arrows fall from the sky and a huge sign reading “Baidi” falls and turns over. It’s hell.

At the center of the city, there is a tall pillar. The child is hung on the top of the pillar, eyes closed, the flames of the city burning him.

It’s like a grand sacrifice.

It hurt so much, like the cut of a knife. This important person was lost because he made a mistake.

He suddenly remembered something and realized he was truly the brother of that child.

He called out his name. “Constantine!”

He sat up abruptly, opening his eyes in the afternoon sun, short of breath, covered in cold sweat all over. The noise of an elevated light rail passed him by.

He suddenly found the sound so pleasing to his ear, reminding him that everything in his dream was fake and that he was in an ordinary world

--------RONALD TANG ENTERS CASSELL----------

“Brother...”

No. 13 was taken aback. He was walking in a dark corridor, illuminated by the light of the phone screen. At this moment, he heard the faint sound of people talking in front of the class.

He hurriedly lowered his body and covered the phone screen with his palm, so that the corridor was completely dark. He moved a few silent steps so that no one could tell his location without an infrared night vision device. Only the hum of the fan remained in the corridor, repeating at a steady frequency.

“Did she get it wrong?” No. 13 thought.

He was proud to be a master in the bounty hunter’s line. He accepted all manner of strange cases and performed beautifully. He has never felt so strange as he did today. Since entering this campus, he has had auditory hallucinations. Every time he walked around in a quiet environment and listened to his footsteps, he would mistakenly think that someone was speaking in front of him. At first, he ignored it. He didn’t realize it was weird until he left the crystal clear shadow girl and the beer-drinking man. Because after he entered the tunnel leading to the “ice cellar”, the strange voice became clear. He was underground and except for the ventilation system, there was no gap for sound to penetrate.

No. 13 slowly straightened up, and stopped using his phone for light, turning it off. He touched the wall of the corridor with his waist and walked forward. 

“Brother....” This time the voice came from behind him, as if someone sighed nearby.

No. 13 drew out the saw-barrel shotgun, turned around and pointed it behind him. According to his heroic or rough character, he should have shot this person point-blank, regardless of whether he was a man or a ghost. But he was too nervous this time. God knows why, but he felt like this sound was very familiar. As familiar as when you lived in an airport as a child, listening to planes taking off and landing every day, and the sounds of jet engines put you to sleep.

He couldn’t remember where he heard this sound. It was like a bubble floating from the depths of his mind. it was very familiar and it had a dream-like, black sweetness, which made him a little drowsy.

“Who is it?” he asked.

No one answered but the hum of the exhaust fan.

No. 13 scratched the back of his head, regretting taking this assignment. He was hired by regular customers, who had taken care of his business many times over the years. No. 13 trusted these people very much, so he agreed without much thought. In the past, he took assignments like exploring a desert tomb or a sunken ship in the ice sea. Every place sounded more mysterious the this Cassell College, but this time things became more and more strange. He lost contact with the other people for no reason. At the beginning,  there was a series of strange encounters. Although his nerves were steady, and he still believed this college is just a gathering place for a group of board game lovers who love living out fantasies, he felt he had underestimated their IQ. Walking in here was like walking into a maze.

--------------RONALD TANG FALLS INTO THE ICE CELLAR AQUARIUM--------------

No. 13 slowly turned around and saw a pair of eyes he size of ping-pong balls staring at him curiously a few meters behind him. It was a very authentic great white shark.

Probably in order to prove to No. 13 that he is a young shark with great bite force, the great white shark opened its mouth, displaying thorny teeth.

No. 13 glanced desperately at his hand. This was the most unlucky day in his life. When he fell, his hand scraped against the gate and it was overflowing with a faint red color. Everyone who has watched the “Discovery Channel” program knows that sharks are crazy when they smell blood. As long as it smells blood it will pounce on a piece of wood and No 13 is good eating.

“Brother...” The young boy’s voice echoed around him.

“Please, don’t tell me it’s you calling me?” At the end of his life, No. 13 actually thought this world was so funny as to let a shark be calling him.

A strange expression suddenly appeared in the shark’s blood red eyes. This was the first time that No. 13 felt that he could see the expression in the eyes of a fish. The shark slowly closed its mouth, swinging its fins and tail but it was not advancing but silently retreating. As the distance between it and No. 13 lengthened, it turned around and dived into the water at high speed, plunging into an artificial rock cave. Immediately, a bloody red mist gushed from the rock reef cave and then a big dead fish was thrown out.

No. 13 didn’t understand what was going on. He could only read the shark’s eyes. It looked at him in fear and then slowly disappeared.

He didn’t quite understand what was going on. The shark seemed to be terribly afraid of him. and took the big fish’s nest and hid himself.

--- THE AWAKENING OF CONSTANTINE--

A great chill fell on everyone heart. They realized that they were prematurely optimistic. “Two echoes...” Someone whispered.

“A cavity...” Someone said.

The internal structure of the copper tank was clearly revealed. The inside of the copper tank is divided into two halves. In one half is the curled up skeleton of what appeared to be a human being. The other half is empty.

A disturbing crack is just above the cavity!

“Something... escaped from it!” Someone’s voice began to tremble.

“Why?” The principal asked in a low voice.

No. 13 wondered as well, why all these people were suddenly so quiet.

At this moment, he is laboratory assistant wearing a mask to prepare dissection equipment. His journey has been so smooth. After walking around the ‘ice cellar’ for a long time, he entered what appeared to to a laboratory. In this area, he saw a group of men taking a shower, in an lively discussion about a copper jar. In the heavy steam, no one could see each other’s faces, so No. 13 took off his clothes and stepped in to shower with them.

More than a dozen naked men walked about in the vapor and when they past him, a few even greeted him. 

After bathing, they took out sterile suits from sealed plastic bags and covered themselves head to toe. They were tightly protected, as if they were going to the virus laboratory or going to walk on the moon.

No. 13 realized that this was his perfect opportunity so he knocked out a guy about his height, took his ID card and pinned it to his chest, and put on his suit.

When he entered this sealed glass laboratory, he took off his mask to drink a glass of champagne. He was that casual. When someone gave him a cart full of dissecting equipment, he lightly examined it while people around him applauded. No one paid him any attention to him, entirely focused on the brass jar in the glass enclosure.

“Regardless, the autopsy should continue.” The principal raised his hand. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I can’t wait any longer to obtain this important data.”

The researchers began to applaud again, and the principal’s calm and determination under the unexpected was always convincing.

“Is all the equipment ready?” The principal asked.

No. 13 hurried to raise his hand. He pushed a trolley made of synthetic materials on which the nano-material transparent scalpels, saws and scissors, as well as other unrecognizable tools were displayed.

“For safety’s sake, only the person responsible for the dissection enters, and the others are responsible for recording are to stand outside.” The principal turned to No. 13, with an expression of expectation, “Ready?”

No. 13 can only nod. He doesn’t know what a Dragon King is, but he is sure that the knowledge of anatomy of frogs he learned in high school biology class wasn’t enough for him. Fortunately, he stuffed his saw-barrel shotgun and a few soaked ammunition clips under the sterile suit. This game him a little more confidence.

In fact, he really wanted to turn around and walk away. It didn’t seem like he was strong enough to move the copper pot alone. with a glass wall on the outside and a quartz glass cavity inside, he could only see the indistinct shadow of the copper pot, which was not enough for him to accumulate enough materials to go back and claim the 5 million dollars.

The principal patted him on the shoulder, and the hatch leading to the low temperature laboratory inside slid open, and the white gas evaporated from the gushing liquid nitrogen. The principal put on his mask while No. 13 shivered.

He walked into the cryogenic chamber, and all he saw was white, with bright blue flickering lights all around. In the center was the oval quartz glass chamber with a huge copper tank and liquid nitrogen vapor under his feet.

For a moment, he had the illusion that he was standing on the endless snowy field and heard a low call from a distance beyond his sight, “Brother.”

“An egg...” No. 13 thought, “Brass Egg.”

Would such a report be worth even 200 dollars? No. 13 is a bit hesitant. The money seemed too good to be true.

In the quartz glass cavity, there is a jar with a brass texture and a dark green patina on the surface. He can just make out an engraved pattern of a double snake guarding a giant tree. The outer wall was originally completely closed, bu there was a gray tin-colored place above it and there was a black hole that seemed to be corroded out.

But it was much like an egg.

There was no doubt that this was his goal. The smell of medal rust in the air started to become stifling. The strong magnetic field made a loose screw on his watch fly out and cling to the quartz glass cavity. The out wall began to quake. No wonder this lab is made completely of glass! There was no metal anywhere!

Dozens of eyes behind him watched him. Sooner or later they would figure him out. No. 13 thought quickly. “What the hell is this? This is worth 5 million dollars for its information?”

“No, what they’re after isn’t this copper jar... but what’s in it!”

“No wonder that the instructions said to observe with my own two eyes and if it’s broken, look inside!” No. 13 made up his mind. He tore off his lab coat in full view, and leaped on to the exam table and peered into the gap. 

The black gap was like a well of time.

“Brother, there are many people outside.”

“maybe you will die? but Constantine, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid. As long as I stay with my brother I’m not afraid. But why don’t you eat me? Eat me, brother, and you can break out of any cage.”

“You are good food, but that would be too lonely. For thousands of years, only you and I were together.”

“But death is really sad, like being sealed in a black box, forever and ever, pitch black. You reach into the dark and never feel anything.”

“The so-called destiny of the abandoned clan is to cross the wasteland, raise the battle flag again, and return home. Death is not terrible. It is just a long sleep. Before we can swallow the world, we expect to ravel alone. It is better to sleep peacefully and wait to wake up.”

“Brother... when you raise the flag and devour the world, will you eat me?”

“Yes, then you will be with me, and you will come to the world!”

No. 13 felt dizzy. “Who is...talking?”

It seemed that he was really standing by a well, listening to the people in it. In the dark of the well, someone looked up at him. The well was deep, and he felt like he might fall in at any moment.

“Damn, why is this kind of second-rate stage play lines again?” No 13 looked away and felt a little cursed. Things that are this old might be cursed. Fortunately, No. 13 never cared about strange objects, but before this one, his heart was beating wildly.

“All those who are in front of the army are in front!” After reciting this sentence in bad Chinese, No. 13 pulled out the shotgun, turned and pointed it at the stunned group of researchers outside the tempered glass. "Hands in the air! Unless you want to die!”

The principal was stupefied for a moment, and immediately raised his hands. He seemed to be an old guy who understood the current state of affairs. The researchers’ eyes were full of disbelief but they also raised their hands after the principal.

“Alright, I’ll add a sentence to my report that says that when I looked inside... it was as if someone was looking back at me.” He thought to himself.

But that should have been impossible. Under the low temperature of liquid nitrogen, even if there were bacteria inside, it would freeze to death.

“I’ll just treat it as a high school gym class and just do it.” No. 13 kicked opened the door of the cryogenic chamber.

A researcher suddenly lifted the transparent plastic cover on the console and pressed a red button inside with one hand.

“Dragon Invasion in the secure area! Invasion!” A stern girl’s voice echoed in the air.

The reinforced outer cover outside the quart glass cavity behind No. 13 was fastened tightly, twelve valves sealed at the same moment and a large amount of liquid nitrogen was injected into it.

“Are you calling the police? Is this a convenience store robbery?” No. 13 was very annoyed by the situation.

He should have put the saw-barrel shotgun against the researcher’s forehead and blasted him with a single shot. But he was still a little dizzy and every bullet was soaked when he fell into the aquarium. So he stepped forward and kicked the guy and then took down seven more researchers. Taking advantage of the chaos, No. 13 turned and ran out of the laboratory.

“Stop him!” The principal shouted. 

The researchers came to their senses and swarmed outside.

At the same time, in the water above the aquarium, No 13′s lost phone suddenly turned on. 

“No. 13 if you are not dead right now, then you should be close to the target. Your target is a brass pot, about 1.8 meters in height and 1.2 meters in diameter, with a corroded gap above it. The last instruction is to open the gray tin bottle and pour the solution through the gap. Once this is completed, the bonus rises to 10 million US dollars.”

The water eventually penetrated the phone’s battery and it stopped working forever.

In the shadow of the cryogenic hatch, a person sighed low. Everyone had evacuated and no one noticed him in the chaos. “And just like that, the mission failed? This young man is really unreliable.” He said softly.

He walked out of the shadows, picked up the tin bottle left by No. 13 and walked into the quartz glass cavity. He inserted a black card into the card slot on the console.

“This operation will cause the opening of he Dragon’s Egg. Norton, the King of Bronze and Fire may wake up. Operation prohibited! Operation Prohibited! Operation Prohibited!” Norma’s voice echoed over the laboratory and a warning alarm blared. Red lights rolled through the entire lab.

“Keep quiet, Norma, this is the time for us to witness a miracle.” The man lowered the valve and cut off the communication between the entire laboratory and Norma.

With the main power supply cut, Norma’s voice disappeared, the lights went out one by one, and only the alarm is left, the red lights rotating.

The crimson of the warning lights flow in the dark, like lava, like blood, like doomsday.

These light up the expressionless face of the man.

The temperature rises rapidly, the high-speed rotating electron flow in the superconducting magnetic field attenuates, and the suspended quartz glass cavity slowly dropped down. The twelve sealed valves unlocked at once and a huge amount of white steam was ejected. The reinforced outer covered opened.

“With my bones and blood to the great Majesty, Nidhogg. He is the supreme, the most powerful and the most virtuous existence, destined to rule the whole world.” The man stretched out his hand to touch the quartz glass chamber and felt the vibration coming from it. The vibration became more and more intense.

“Good, you didn’t make me wait too long!” The man drew his knife from his sleeve. A sharp blue knife mark was left in the glass wall. The vacuum inside was broken, and screaming air poured in. The man cut the neck of the gray tin bottle with a knife and aimed the break at the crack. The gray tin-colored liquid followed the knife mark into the quartz glass cavity and circulated along the inner wall of the glass like a thin snake, away from the central copper tank, as if afraid of it. But s more and more liquid entered the glass cavity, this ash stream began to boil and bubble with a rustling and peeling sound, like a living thing.

the man put the knife in his sleeve and left the cryogenic laboratory. 

He looked back at the door for the last time and all the gray tin solution flew away from the inner wall in an instant and ‘pounced’ on the copper pot. When the two touched, a violent corrosive effect appeared, and the indestructible popper can is like a piece of softened cheese melted in a microwave, emitting a dark green mist.

An indescribable low growl echoed in the cryogenic laboratory, anxious and manic.

“Welcome back to the world, Constantine.” The man closed the door.

TO BE CONTINUED..... @mechaspirit

[angstytieflingbard]

Slight Magnus x One-sided!Demigod!Reader

Request: “Thank you for the fic!! Could I request a trickster Demigod reader who's the raven queens kid(created not born) They take the form of a young adult and just mess around with the main three(they don't know what the person is, just that they like to take their stuff)until one day they are messing with them, kravitz appears and like "please go back home-" which blows the demigods cover? A bit of romance with Magnus if possible( the reader being a lovesick puppy around him). Thank you for your time!” -Taz anon

Summary: You, (Y/N), are the child of the Raven Queen, created from the very fabric of the astral plane shortly after the woman first attained godhood. You sneaked away from your home realm to experience the mortal world for yourself, meeting a strange group of adventurers on the way. You, of course, immediately decide to mess with them. 

Warnings: None, besides a one-sided crush the reader has on Magnus, which I understand some might not be interested in. 

A/N: I’ve been busy the past few days, my friend is moving to France in a little over a week and some other friends of mine have started a little horror gaming group so I’ve been hanging out with them a bunch. But here it is, and I hope you enjoy! I’m going to try to be quicker with requests in the future, I feel bad making people wait (particularly Taz anon, who’s an angel honestly), though I may have to make shorter works. We’ll see! Anyway, please enjoy, and know my asks are pretty much always open for requests (my fandoms/rules are in my bio) or just to say hi, or tell me what you think of something I’ve written! 

~~~~

The first time you met the boys was on the road to Phandalin. You’d taken up residence a little less than a day out from the small mining village, in a little camp on a hill by the road where you could watch the travelers as they passed. You were new to Faerun, having only recently left the astral plane where you were created (despite your mother, the Raven Queen, having forbid your leaving), and you’d never actually interacted with still-living mortals yourself, so you’d taken to people watching for much of the early days of your stay in the mortal plane. 

They’d stopped for the night in the area of road your camp bordered, and ended up making their camp nearly on top of yours. They introduced themselves, and you watched in interest for the evening at their actions, glad to get a chance to watch the mortals up close for once. You’d also had your first experience eating and sleeping that night, not wanting to seem too suspicious by declining their offer to join them for dinner, nor for keeping them up by moving around and reading and practicing whatever new craft you were attempting as you usually did at night. 

In the morning, you’d felt confident enough to throw some of your own teasing into the mix of their conversation, and their laughter and friendliness to you made for an easy fascination with them. You had an odd luck in finding them on your own travels, often ending up in the places they had to go for “missions” from some mysterious benefactor, though you’d never pried despite your growing interest, getting the feeling that any question about their jobs would be particularly unwelcome. Your respect for their privacy did not extend to their belongings, however, and you took to snooping through the trinkets they found over their missions whenever you met them, to their chagrin. Magnus was the most forgiving of your sticky fingers, though he was quick to take his things back from you after he’d let you inspect them. You’d taken a liking to Magnus for that fact alone, though his general optimism was also enjoyable. 

Your interactions with the group only increased over the months, and eventually you started actively seeking them out, curious to a fault regarding the strange group of adventurers. 

~~~

You sat perched upon a tree branch which overhanged the road, waiting for the three adventurers you’d come to be friends with over the course of your stay in Faerun. Well, friend might be a strong word, considering how Merle groans the second he catches sight of you in the tree. 

“Hail and well met, strangers!” You grinned playfully at them, swinging your legs back and forth in the air as they stop just a short distance away. 

“(Y/N).” Magnus greeted you. “Causing trouble as usual?” He asked, and you laughed, jumping down from the tree branch and landing in a crouch. 

“Only for you, of course! You know you guys are my favorite to mess with.” You said as you straightened out again. Magnus sighed. 

“We’re on a… mission, right now. We need to get to Goldcliff.” He told you, and you stepped to the side, waving them past you. There was a moment of hesitation, but the party moved forwards, and you fell into step beside the fighter at the head of the group. 

“So, Magnus, what’s this mission about? You wouldn’t happen to be after the Raven, would you?” You hounded him, and he looked at you in surprise. 

“How do you know about the Raven?” Taako interjected from behind you, and you threw a glance at him over your shoulder. You’d been around the city for the past couple weeks, leaving now due to the increased militia and Raven activity, though you were somewhat sad you wouldn’t be able to watch the races anymore. 

“Well, she’s been wreaking havoc all over the city for days now. You can barely take two steps without running over someone in the militia.” You tell them airily, and all three are silent for a moment as they process the information. In that time, you catch sight of a small water-filled glass orb attached to Magnus’ belt with a leather strips woven together in a way reminiscent of fishnet. A fish swam contentedly inside the ball, and you looked at it curiously, reaching over and plucking the orb from its harness and holding it up to your face. 

“Hey! Give Steven back!” Magnus protests, and you quickly step back out of his reach, holding the glass orb carefully in your palms. 

“Steven? That’s a pretty name! How do you feed him?” You ask, glancing at the fish as it swam mostly unperturbed. 

“We- huh.” Taako paused, thinking. “I don’t think we’ve ever had to. It’s pretty happy inside the ball, actually.” Merle snickers. 

“Are you sure? It’s not floating upside down is it?” 

“Hey! Steven isn’t dead, he’s still swimming around!” Magnus exclaimed, taking the orb back from you. You let him, laughing along with the cleric as Magnus tucked the orb back into its harness. 

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Taako asked you as you and Merle’s laughter faded. 

“Wait, don’t we?” Merle asked, and the elf sighed. 

“No, but I get it, you’re busy. I’ll leave you to… whatever it is that you do.” You told them, feigning disappointment. “Bye, boys! See you around?” You asked, already starting to head down the road in the opposite direction as them, away from Goldcliff. 

“See ya!” Magnus called after you with a wave, and you grinned, saluting playfully as the three turned away from you, continuing their own journey. 

~~~

You were a month into your stay at Moon Base Alpha, having been made an official regulator on the recommendation of Magnus, Taako, and Merle. Well, mostly Magnus, as the director had told you, a fact which had only sent you further into your admittedly ill-advised, but slowly blossoming crush on the man. 

Today, you and Magnus were hanging out in the courtyard, people-watching and talking about the events of Refuge, something which you were glad you weren’t present for. Apparently Kraavitz had shown up right before they came back to base, ready to collect on both their deaths and the many deaths of the people of Refuge, though Taako had stopped him. 

You were familiar with Kraavitz of course, your mother’s favorite reaper. You knew deep in your bones that if you’d been there he would have brought you straight back home. 

Unfortunately, fate was not on your side either way, as you felt the presence of a reaper appear nearby. You tensed almost imperceptibly. Reapers were distinct, even more so than spirits or undead of any kind, even liches. For example, the lich in Taako’s umbrella, so quiet you didn’t notice until several meetings after the first, and even then so soft you could almost ignore its presence, though it felt dead it was also still alive in some inexplicable way, crackling with magical energy. Reapers on the other hand, were like a void amidst the aura of life around them, a side effect of the abilities granted to them by your mother. You knew you must feel similar to those who knew how to sense it.

It took an hour for the reaper to show up, in full spectral form as he did, though you could still recognize him almost immediately. You could see Taako over his shoulder, watching in confusion and a little concern. Magnus looked between you and the reaper, taking note of your almost irritated expression. 

“(Y/N).” He said simply.

“Kraavitz.” You replied, already getting to your feet. 

“Wait, wait, I’m missing something. How exactly do you know each other?” Magnus interjected, standing up and stepping almost in between you. Kraavitz spared him only a glance before his attention focused back on you. 

“Your mother has been looking for you for ages, (Y/N). You know how she gets.” He told you, exasperation leaking slightly into his tone, and you sighed, looking at Magnus. 

“My mother is the Raven Queen.” You started, ignoring how his expression turned to one of shock. “I… may have essentially ran away from home to come hang out in the mortal world.” You winced, and he couldn’t help but let out a short laugh.

“So now she wants you to come home or she’s gonna’, like, ground you or something?” He asked, and you nodded. 

“Basically, and since I don’t particularly want to get what constitutes as a timeout in the astral plane…” You trailed off, and he nodded understandingly. He was taking the news surprisingly well, certainly better than most would. You turned back to Kraavitz, waiting increasingly impatiently with his scythe in hand. 

“I’m ready to go. If I wait much longer I’ll probably chicken out.” Kraavitz chuckled. 

“I understand. I still have to convince her not to reap Refuge.” He shuddered, turning and starting to open a portal. 

“You’ll be alright without me, yeah?” You asked Magnus, and he snorted. 

“I don’t know, you showing up and stealing our stuff really was the highlight of my day. I don’t know how I’ll manage without it.” He said teasingly. 

“Well, you’re smart, I’m sure you’ll find a way.” You told him with a wink. He laughed, giving you a nudge towards Kraavitz as the portal opened. 

“I’ll see you around.” He hesitated for a moment. “And hey, as a favor, do you think you could say hi to Julia for me? She’s… was, my wife.” You felt your heart sink in your chest, but you smiled and nodded, stepping back towards the portal, Kraavitz already on the other side. 

“Of course. I’ll see you around.” You told him. He smiled gratefully at you, and you turned away, jumping through the portal and feeling the unique aura of the living you’d grown used to disappear as Kraavitz closed the portal behind you. 

You were disappointed, knowing nothing could come of your crush. But you were determined to be a good friend regardless, and thus you let yourself sink into the water at your feet, seeking out Julia’s soul to give her your friend’s message.

[lofiyeol]

PAPERCUTS - CHAPTER 2

summary: After the sudden deaths of two of their friends, Chanyeol and Baekhyun try to piece together what happened and end up uncovering a tangled love story.

rating: R

genre: angst!!! a lot of it!!!

pairing: kyungsoo/jongin

length: chaptered

warning: suicide mentions throughout

READ ON AFF

He has dreams, extraordinarily vivid and yet bizarrely indescribable, containing the familiar soft visage of Kyungsoo and the jagged, squiggly one of Jongin, the unknown. Flitting in and out of sleep, each time he opens his eyes to the waking world he’s greeted with a different scene—Baekhyun alone, staring out the window, sitting cross legged on the floor, Minseok and Baekhyun talking in hushed tones over the coffee table, and then Jongdae on the phone, leaning against the wall, his usually happy face drawn into uncharacteristic grim lines. When he finally sits up, night has already fallen and he and Baekhyun are alone again. The television dances with bright colors, and Baekhyun’s attention is grasped by the videogame on the screen, sitting completely still other than his thumbs pressing combinations into the controller. Chanyeol watches him play for a little while as his consciousness slowly returns.

An evening breeze floats in through the cracked window, cutting icy cold across Chanyeol’s cheeks. The moon is especially bright tonight, the light of its pale face hitting the side of Baekhyun’s crouched form and casting a strange malformed shadow on the carpet. It triggers an image from Chanyeol’s dream: Jongin, dancing, face obscured, in some bizarre landscape of desert and tundra mixed together. As his feet swept through sand and snow, they had drawn a picture—a malformed figure, a hunched and fanged monster with clawed hands.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says, voice barely a whisper from the day of disuse. Baekhyun immediately turns around, forgetting the game. “You’re awake.”

            “Is there… food?”

            “Yeah.” Baekhyun stands. “My mom made some for you before she went to bed for if you woke up in the middle of the night. I’ll get it.” He disappears from view for a few moments before returning with a tray of kimbap, which he places in Chanyeol’s blanketed lap.

            “Thank you.”

            Baekhyun sits down next to Chanyeol as he eats. They both watch the little character bouncing on the game’s home screen.

            “Minseok and Jongdae came by. They got told the same as us. Jongdae went to Jongin’s house since he lives nearby but it was all taped off and nobody would let him inside. He ran into Jongin’s landlord who said Jongin lived there by himself, no mom or dad or siblings with him. Kyungsoo’s parents are going to have the funeral for him soon, but I don’t know what’s going to happen with Jongin. Jongdae seemed to think he had no family at all.”

            The 8-bit theme song repeats and repeats in the background as Chanyeol chews slowly through his food. “Do you know… why?”

            “No. Nobody does, except cops. Right now, at least.” Baekhyun steals a roll of kimbap off Chanyeol’s plate. “Jongdae told me both bodies were at Jongin’s but that’s all the information he got.”

            The tremble in Baekhyun’s lower lip is just barely noticeable, but his emotions are betrayed by his breaking voice. “I-I didn’t even really know they were friends.”

            This is the part that hurts Chanyeol the most, that will keep him up every night for the next few months: just how much he didn’t know.

                       Baekhyun eventually crashes in the early hours of the morning, falling asleep face down in the couch, wrinkled school uniform bunching at his knees. Chanyeol stays awake until the morning rolls in. The sky is as pleasant as the day before, swollen white clouds grazing past the bright sun. Not a spot of darkness to be seen. Chanyeol moves a cushion so that it blocks the light from Baekhyun’s sleeping eyes before he leaves.

            The cold wind whips his body he walks out of Baekhyun’s apartment complex, and he pulls his scarf tighter around his neck. Suffocating himself, comforting himself—Chanyeol can’t be bothered to tell the difference. Today’s issue of the Seoul Herald is splayed open on the cobblestones of the driveway, pages fluttering in a desperate plea for attention. Chanyeol thinks the newspaper looks like a body, the white of bone and black of death open in a terrible perverted blossom. But everything is starting to look like bodies to him now, the flowers and ivy and cracked walls and trash bags lining the streets. He snatches the newspaper into his shaking hands as he begins to make his way to the bus stop.

            SUCIDES IN SEODAEMUN-GU

            He expected something, but the title displayed on the paper’s front page still makes him wince and his heart fall into his stomach. The outside of what he assumes is Jongin’s house is printed in vivid color, a small, unassuming apartment decked in caution tape like some twisted art installation.

            The bus is full of morning commuters but Chanyeol squeezes in, folding into a corner and hiding himself behind the newspaper. Beneath his thick coat his insides feel like they’re wrapped up in some pressurized knot, only getting tighter and tighter as his eyes drink in the words.

            Two bodies of teenaged boys were located yesterday in a Seodaemun-Gu apartment, dead of apparent suicide. Though motivations are still unknown, the fact remains that these are two additions to the record-breaking number of teen suicides this year. Teen suicide is becoming an undeniable epidemic in South Korea, one we as a society cannot ignore any longer.

            Chanyeol flips angrily through the statistics and hotline numbers, looking desperately for more images, more details, names and times and reasons, but comes up empty handed. Gritting his teeth, he crunches the newspaper into a ball.

            He feels wrong. Every limb in his body doesn’t work the way it should, his brain keeps misplacing thoughts and his tongue flops useless in his mouth. Chanyeol couldn’t care less about most things; he had never had a serious outlook on life and did fine for himself, armed with a flirtatious tongue and boyish good looks. With Baekhyun by his side, he was one half of an unstoppable dynamic duo, the both of them likeable for their own good. Now, Chanyeol can’t even remember what it felt like to smile, or to function properly at all. He stares at the blank ceiling trying to understand how it’s only been a day since he got the news—how will he last?

            He manages to find his apartment through the thick fog filling his brain and buzzes himself in, slogging up a flight of stairs to his front door. His mother’s hair smells like flower perfume as she embraces him wordlessly into a hug.

            “Did you eat? I made toast. Baekhyun’s mother called and told me you spent the day at their house. She said you looked really ill. Are you okay? Do you have a fever?”

            “M’fine,” Chanyeol mutters as he pulls out of her embrace. “Really.”

            “Well, if you need anything…” Chanyeol’s mother falters.

            “I’m fine.” Chanyeol touches her shoulder as he walks to his room.

            He has the wherewithal to pretend in front of his mother. But when he shuts the door behind him, he sinks to the ground, brow broken out in sweat. It’s hurting him more than he would have expected.

            Not like Chanyeol had ever thought of a situation even remotely close to this one before—Kyungsoo was healthy, ostensibly happy, and had been a part of Chanyeol’s life since elementary school. They laughed and played almost every day; even when Baekhyun entered the picture at the beginning of middle school Kyungsoo didn’t take a backseat. They lived close to each other after all, and Chanyeol went to his house every week to do homework and watch television and drink when Kyungsoo’s mother was out. It was a normal life Kyungsoo had, and Chanyeol thought he knew a lot about it. His mind reels, attempting to reckon once more with the present situation. Again, he hits a wall. It’s too preposterous to comprehend.

            Furiously he rummages through his backpack and fishes out his cellphone, which thankfully has ten percent of battery left, and scrolls quickly through his contacts. He has to hear it from the person who knows the most. Right now, that appears to be Jongdae.

            His classmate picks up on the first ring. “Chanyeol?”

            “Hey,” Chanyeol starts lamely. Jongdae cuts to the chase.

            “I was at Baekhyun’s earlier, but you were asleep. I assume he told you some details.”

            “Yeah, but I want to talk to you.” Chanyeol pulls off his jacket, tossing it onto his bed. The door is cool as he leans his back against it. “You know… something, right? More than anyone else?”

            “I just live close to Jongin, that’s all. I went to his house and saw the outside of it. They wouldn’t let me in, obviously, but they told me to give them my name and they might be in contact if they needed anything.”

            “Like what?”

            “Actually…” Jongdae falters, and then clears his throat. “The police need a… second ID. On the bodies. Specifically Jongin’s. They want to be sure.”

            It’s surreal. It’s so surreal that Chanyeol’s tongue is tied and his legs are locking and his arm is hanging limply by his side. Jongdae’s sigh crackles through the speaker. “I can’t believe this is fucking happening.”

            “I can’t either,” Chanyeol manages through his lips that suddenly feel too thick.

            They sit in each other’s silence for a moment. Chanyeol’s mind can’t create anything but the image of Kyungsoo’s eyes, forced perpetually open with death.

            “You should come. I told Baekhyun and Minseok as well. You should come with me to the police station later today. We were Jongin’s closest friends. Kyungsoo’s mother is going to be there too and I think she’d like to see you.”

            “Yeah, yeah,” Chanyeol says faintly. “Yeah, I’ll… I want to see her… and Kyungsoo too. It’s just all happening so fast.”

            “Take it easy. Just stay at home. Try to think about something else.” Jongdae’s sentence trails off, as if he knows his own advice is as good as impossible. “I’ll text you the time, okay? See you soon.”

            “Okay,” Chanyeol says, and Jongdae hangs up. The sudden absence of his friend’s voice makes Chanyeol shiver.

                       His mother makes him hot cocoa, Chanyeol’s favorite childhood drink. He sits in his room, watching the sun move through the slats in his window shades, forgetting to blink for so long that it looks like a punctured orange egg yolk leaking out into the sky.

            Chanyeol already knows he’s going to have to get used to waiting. For answers, for results, for reports, for closure. It feels like he’s just started a new life where suddenly nothing is about him anymore. The stupid petty problems he had when things were normal feel like hazy dots in his distant memory. Just things he wasted time focusing on while Kyungsoo was dying every day, right before his eyes. So fucking selfish…

            Dying. The word rolls around in his brain, still so foreign. As much as he puts the name Kyungsoo and the word dead together, it doesn’t make any sense.

                Him and Baekhyun and Jongdae and Minseok… all of them left behind in some split-off parallel universe that wasn’t supposed to exist. Chanyeol feels his lids begin to grow heavy with the haze of confusion and hurt and he crumples into sleep, slumping against the door.

[withyouandthemoon]

Daddy Issues

Author’s Note: This was, to my utter embarrassment, inspired by a line from what I believe was the second episode of TO S5. Something along the lines of “there are certain damages that only a father can do”, which I find completely nonsense. Many moons later that disdain along with @garglyswoof‘s kind prompting finally pushed me to write this down. Set sometime in the future where KC are in an established relationship; probably a few decades after TVD 4x23 and anything Canon after that is not acknowledged here. It started off like a ton of lemons (I love this obsolete term that I recently just learned) but is actually so filled with fluff it’s more like lemon meringue. My teeth hurt in the end.

When Caroline was young she was terrified of flying. Granted she didn’t flew that much to start with – just a couple of times to visit her dad and that one single time when her mom took her to see her aunt in Florida.

Each and every one of those times she was scared out of her mind. Her imaginations ran the wildest when they were backed up by data, and she had always been a thorough researcher. She’d clamp her little hands so hard on the armrests to crush the images of falling and explosion in her head as the giant plane sped up, hard steel digging into her back like some unnameable dark force with an evil mind of its own.

And then she’d be hovering midair. Her heart floating in her already floating body, all trapped up in a floating still iron box.

Caroline thought she’d loathe that feeling all her life and avoid it at all cost.

Little did she know how drastically feelings changed over time, especially when you hold a few decades, or even centuries of it in your palm to squander about.

Then flying became soaring. Floating, freeing. Looking down on the ground from miles above felt like a metaphor for the immortality of which she was still just beginning to get a grasp.

And that was probably why Caroline found herself fantasizing about what she used to fear the most when Klaus’ controlled warm breaths scorched her inner thighs. He was taking his sweet time tonight, lips hovering near her soaked core, the tip of his tongue ghosting her sensitive skin now and then, but never fully landing. A frustrated half-sigh-half-moan slipped out of her throat and he merely hummed, the sound buzzing through her suddenly arched spine like the engines of a plane, lulling, but exhilarating all the same.

“Easy, there.” His thumb gently rubbed under her knee while a light kiss grazed her abdomen, “we haven’t even started yet.”

And how she yearned for that. Speeding. Gaining traction. Pulling up and up and up until she was blinded by the sun blasting over the hazy clouds.

His low chuckle traveled along her midsection to the valley between her breasts, and he licked her there as if tasting her wandering thoughts, “what lovely images are you conjuring up this time, sweetheart?”

She knew what he was asking about. After decades of roaming the earth it was no news to Caroline that people saw or heard the strangest things during sex. But surprisingly she had quite the artistic mind when it came to sex with Klaus (sometimes she suspected she was channeling him but she would never feed that to his egotistical ass). The first time he coaxed the imaginative painting of undulating hills swirling with colors out of her, he stared at her with such awe and fervor in his eyes like she’d just single-handedly invented the freaking impressionism. Ever since then he became quite obsessed with her little “sex visions”, and it was not like Caroline didn’t enjoy it.

But not now. He was wordy when he got artistic, and wordy meant slow.

So she dragged him up by his dangling necklaces, stealing a bruising kiss for her own before replying, “I’m not telling you if you keep this game up.”

“What game?” He feigned innocence, like those fingers so skillfully fiddling with her nipples weren’t even his.

She couldn’t quite swallow her gasps, her eyes half-closed from the charges spreading from her chest, but not enough to shut out the smug grin on his face.

Well if this was the road he wanted to go down, then she might as well spice things up a bit more.

Silently she began to nibble at the side of his neck, Klaus’ head immediately falling back exposing his throat where tiny sounds of satisfaction were rumbling. To this day it amazed Caroline a little when he acted this open around her, and she felt herself growing wetter at the thought.

Sucking on his pulse point, she reached over to the glass jar on their nightstand and sank her hand into the sea of notes inside.

The jar was Caroline’s two-year anniversary gift to Klaus, filled with both of their fantasies and dirty thoughts. Klaus was, of course, most obliged to try it out as often as possible, but now over one year later they’d still not run out of ideas – not completely unbelievable considering they’d both been caught on more than one occasion sneaking new notes into the “kink jar”, as dubbed by one very disturbed and disgusted Rebekah Mikaelson.

Caroline laughed inwardly at Rebekah’s scrunched-up face as she fished around the little pieces of paper. But before she could draw one out, her hand was enclosed in his, the heat of his palm almost burning her.

She looked up into Klaus’ teasing eyes, “I’m feeling adventurous tonight.”

“When are you not?” He was idly rubbing circles on the back of her hand through the thin notes, and she almost moaned out at the feeling of the rough edges of paper scraping against her skin. When did the back of her hand become an erogenous zone anyway? Damn it, focus.

She raised an eyebrow challengingly, “can’t keep up?”

His grin grew wider at that, “I’m not complaining.”

Snatching a piece of note from between her fingers, Klaus withdrew his hand and lay back against the headboard, his other arm instinctively circling around Caroline as she snuggled close to take a peek. She was startled by Klaus’ sudden growl of anger, and she hurried to grab the note before he crushed it in his iron grip.

Apprehension clouded her mind as she read the now slightly smudged words: Call Me Daddy.

That definitely hit a sore subject if there ever was one. And judging by Klaus’ murderous expression she doubted he threw that one in just to test his own limits. So that left…

“Kol.” Klaus bit through his clenched teeth, confirming her suspicion.

“But how…?”

Their bedroom was spelled so that only the two of them could enter, and anyone who dared to break the barrier would leave marks wherever they touched inside the room. Not to mention that with Klaus’ hybrid senses, he could probably detect any past intruders from a mile away. To wipe all the traces Kol would have to have some assistance in the form of witchcraft, but Caroline still vividly remembered the disastrous fight Klaus had with him just days ago about Kol “childishly antagonizing all the covens in the city”.

“Kol has always had a way with witches,” Klaus huffed, “if he’s not acting like a raging imbecile.”

“So you’re telling me that he somehow made up with the witches, which I believe was what you expected in the first place, and he got them to help him get inside our bedroom to mess with our sex life, just so he could get back at you because you yelled at him for making an enemy of the witches that ended up helping him?” Caroline rolled her eyes, “I know I’ve said this a million times but you all are a twisted bunch.”

Klaus’ lips lifted smugly, “he’s my brother after all.” In the blink of an eye the smirk turned into a scowl, “but if he thought he could get away with this he was sorely mistaken. I do not care if he’s restored some sort of rapport with the witches. This crossed a line.”

“It can’t really be that bad.” She sighed, sitting up straight, nudging Klaus’ head to settle on her chest before he could protest. She could feel the little puff of air he let out warm on her skin, his long dark blonde eyelashes casting shadows on those high cheekbones that felt way too petulant for a thousand year old monster.

“I will be the judge of that.”

The moonlight was shining favorably on all his good features, and from Caroline’s vantage point he almost looked like one of those ancient statues she saw during their never ending world tours, the perfect human specimen perpetuated by hands that were long dead. But those masterpieces of marble were truly strong, ageless, fearless.

He wasn’t.

He was a thousand years of weaknesses and struggles, sleepless nights and blood-soaked frenzies sedimented into one.

And he was resting so petulantly, yet so contently on her very chest.

Without lifting his eyes Klaus seemed to have sensed the little smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “what? No name-calling? Not a word of ‘get over it?’” His arm idly went around her waist, bringing their bodies even closer, “that’s a first.”

She didn’t answer him for a while, just silently playing with the soft curls on his nape. And for once Klaus didn’t rush her, his artistic fingers drawing sketch after sketch on her side. Neither of them was particularly good at the patience thing, but somehow they found the rhythm as the years passed, finding each other more fascinating than the heavy stress of silence.

“I was just thinking…none of us seemed to have won the lottery in the father department. I mean, mine left when I was ten; Bonnie’s father was practically absentee when we were growing up, and from what I heard the Salvatores nearly got killed by theirs. Elena’s father was probably the only nice one, but it turned out he was a heartless psycho who tortured vampires for science.” She couldn’t help a small shudder when she mentioned that piece of information, and Klaus’ arm instantly tightened around her.

“Among the lot of us, we could run an awards for the shittiest dad.” She continued with a light shake of her head, “on a scale of one to ten your dad can get, like a nine or something.”

This time Klaus looked up at her, his face more incredulous than angered, which Caroline took as a good sign.

“What? There must be something even worse than wanting your own kids dead.”

“Caroline, are you seriously trying to rank this medley crew according to paternal ‘shittiness’?” She could hear the air quote loud and clear in his words.

Shrugging, Caroline reached for his hand, now stilled on her ribcage because of her ever-so-whimsical idea, and guided it to resume its drawing patterns, “I’m tempted. This sounds like there could be a nice colored histogram involved. I’ll even let you pick your own color – I call dibs on hot pink though.”

Klaus snorted, clearly knowing her enthusiasm was only half-faked, “I promise I won’t fight you over it, love.”

“Good. Because you don’t stand a chance anyway.” She retorted smugly, bending down to press a kiss at the crown of his head.

She knew very well that vampires didn’t have a heartbeat. It took her a long time to get used to not feeling it in herself, and even longer to stop looking for it in others. But after that, she started to notice the tells. More importantly, she started to notice his tells.

How his lips hung open, how his eyelashes shook infinitesimally, how that tiny pause in his even breaths segued so smoothly into the next as if nothing happened…all the little signs screaming in silence the skip of a nonexistent heartbeat.

So she snuggled her face into his hair further, curling around him to ease the tightening of her own dead heart, their bodies molding into each other like a gender-reversed version of that famous painting of Gustav Klimt’s.

Sometimes she couldn’t fathom if she was looking at the world through his eyes, or he hers.

“How come you speak so lightly about such things?” Klaus’ voice was barely above a whisper, contorted emotions hidden well in the creases of hushed breaths.

“And how can you give them so much power?” She pushed back the question softly, the knuckle of her finger grazing his jaw line, “I thought it was human nature to forget.”

And she’d experienced that nature more and more now that she was almost in her fifties in human years. They were, in the end, selfish and cowardly creatures who shed memories like they shed hair. Because hair ate at your body, and memories ate at your soul.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine clinging to the past for a century, let alone a millennium.

His quiet sigh weighed heavy on her heart, “maybe so. But may I remind you that we are no longer human, and common senses don’t necessarily apply to our cases.”

“Yet you’re the one who keeps letting him get to you.”

She knew she was treading on thin ice, but she never could hold her tongue in front of him. Feeling him tensing she leaned in to press another kiss on his temple, his body now almost completely wrapped in hers. They felt like one bizarre creature with tangled limbs and ragged breaths, his lashes shuttering against her chin its disproportionally-tiny, erratic heart.

“Caroline…”

He spoke her name in a way that nobody else would. Like a whole new language that consisted of only one word, and every part of speech was just her, her, her.

But somehow she always understood him perfectly.

“It was the summer when I was twelve that it really sank in – that I couldn’t count on my dad.” She started talking without prompt, her other arm reaching over to circle him in a full embrace, “sure he was gone before that, but we talked on the phone, he’d send me gifts and sometimes visit, so it didn’t feel that bad.”

She felt him settle further into her. There were subjects that Klaus would never go into details. But from time to time he’d listen quietly as Caroline talked about them, without a word of response. It’d become yet another one of their things – those feelings that he didn’t dare utter, that he hadn’t quite figured out even after a thousand tumultuous years flowing through her like a dark stream, brought into the freeing daylight by her soft voice. In those moments he’d just hold her tighter, as he did now.

“That summer I went to stay with him and Stephen. We had so much fun together. I’d never seen my father so happy and carefree, always laughing, joking, trying out new things. Stephen brought that out in him. He was not bad himself either. I almost forgave him. But then it was the end of the summer and of course, I didn’t want to leave.”

She’d used up all her tricks but her dad still wouldn’t budge, looking at her apologetically, his eyes full of things that she didn’t understand then.

“My dad said I had to. Period. I was upset, but more than that the whole thing just felt so unfair. My dad chose to leave, he chose to start a new life without me, and he chose to send me back. But why didn’t I get to choose?” She sighed into the side of his neck, “but it turns out life just doesn’t give you that many choices, no matter who you are.”

She trailed her fingers down his vertebrae, one bone at a time. She’d watched him turn several times over the years, her hand helplessly trying to soothe the pain bursting out from the seams. Yet now they rested so cluelessly under her finger tips, little fossils of suffering with invisible secrets and puzzles carved into them, but no answers.

“I was mad for a month or two. About my dad, of course; but also because Kimberly Fell told everyone I kissed her douchebag of a brother and got dumped, which was the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Hello? Alex Fell was so not my type!” Klaus was chuckling softly into the crook of her shoulder. She slapped him on the back without much force, her own laugh bubbling in her chest, “anyway, I’m just saying that it was…ordinary, you know. He was not father of the year, but he was hardly the cause of everything gone wrong in my life.”

Klaus’ voice startled her a little, hoarse from the long silence on his part, “as I’ve told you a long time ago, the issue with my father was slightly more complicated than that.” But unlike the first time, instead of harsh he just sounded pensive, his hand still caressing her side in its own accord.

“Well I suppose so,” her voice took on a teasing tone, “but I doubt you are a special scattered spot outside the normal distribution curve.”

“I see that statics course of yours has proven useful.” Klaus huffed a laugh, fingers traveling to the dips of her lower waist, making her shiver involuntarily.

“I told you college education had its perks.”

She never finished her first undergrad, opting for traveling the world on her own instead. When she mentioned getting back to it one more time a few months ago, Klaus was more than supportive – at least about everything aside from her class schedule.

“It still doesn’t make up for those mornings when you leave me in bed alone.” He sucked at the sensitive spot between her clavicles, his full lips forming a perfect pout to prove his point.

Caroline shoved him away and flipped them over, straddling him with a triumphant smirk, “don’t be a baby.”

His hand instantly landed on her hips, squeezing her so deliciously she let out a gasp, “fine, then be a good student and tell me where I fall on your normal distribution curves.”

She ground her ass into him, eliciting a low moan, “normal is never the word to use when it comes to my curves, and you know it.”

“My apologies, love.” He looked up at her, all flashy dimples and shiny curls, “I hereby declare that from this day forward your curves will only be referred to as ‘sensational’ and ‘out of this world’.”

“You better.” She leaned over to kiss him, only to feel the discarded piece of paper under her palm. Frowning, she threw it aside, “and for this once I’m not against you straightening Kol up a little. He has no business in The Jar. And ‘daddy’? Seriously? You are at least a grandpa.”

Klaus rolled his eyes, “if we absolutely have to play this game I prefer the vampire term ‘sire’.”

“Huh.” Caroline inclined her head teasingly, “If you want to get into the technicalities, I believe you are my great-great-great-grand-sire. You are practically my ancestor in vamp terms.”

“You make me feel so old, sweetheart.”

“Hate to break it to you, but as a vampire you have to change your perception of time.” Caroline wiggled her brows as she repeated his words to him, “apparently saying you are old is like, the highest compliment.”

“Apparently.” Klaus hummed as he palmed her breasts leisurely, thumbs brushing over her hardening nipples and Caroline’s head fell back in the surge of pleasure.

Still she never was one to back down from a banter, even if her voice was husky from the lust and anticipation, “so suck it up, sweetheart.”

The next second he was shifting their position so he was sitting up with her still in his lap, his hot lips grazing her left breast while his hand kept kneading the other, “I promise to start sucking if you keep up the compliments.”

But before she could utter a word his mouth was on her, soft lips enveloping her nipple with his tongue skillfully brushing the tip. Caroline sighed loudly, her fingers once more sinking into his curls in abandon.

“Oh yes sire!” She arched her back, pushing her breasts into his head-reeling ministrations, her moans half from arousal and half her playful streak, “you are so old, I just love how old you are…” she ground her burning core into his already rock hard cock, “yes, ravish me, punish me, hit me with your long hard cane!”

Klaus suddenly let go of her nipple, pulling her down for a wet kiss, the sound of laughter shook from their chasing tongues all the way down to their joint hips.

He was still laughing when he pulled back, his hand brushing the fallen hair out of her face gently, “this reminds me of…never mind.”

“What?”

Caroline studied him suspiciously. He looked…embarrassed, with his eyes downcast and the annoyed little lines forming at the corners of his eyes. And then something clicked.

“You were thinking of When Harry Met Sally weren’t you? Admit it!”

She’d all but forced him to watch with her all the chick flicks that’d ever been made, some more than once, or try five times. It was not her fault that the hybrid had an impressive memory.

“I most certainly did not!” He narrowed his eyes, pulling her closer into his lock of iron-hard arms, “how dare you sully my name like this, young lady.”

“Whatever you say, great-great-great-grand-sire.”

Caroline batted her eyelashes at him, curling the last word around her tongue like he so often did. She gasped when his cock grew even larger underneath her, vibrating against her soaking slit with a mind of its own.

“Are you actually turned on by that?” She faked incredulity while furtively rubbing her core over him, earning a growl deep in his throat.

He looked at her long and hard, sweet and tender, his face still lit up by a playful smile yet his eyes burned into hers as if fusing them together, even if they were already so close she tasted him at the back of her tongue with each breath she took, “Caroline, you make me want to kiss you, spank you, fuck you senseless and have a good laugh with you, all at the same time.”

He slowly leaned into her, their cheeks touching inch by inch and he was whispering into her ear like the whole world had silenced to a halt, “there is no bigger turn-on than that.”

She laughed softly, her hands raising to cup his cheeks, murmuring an indiscernible “good” before she dove into him, and felt like flying.

[that-buckley-gal]

Eternal Glory - The Second Task (5)

Time passed quickly for the students at Hogwarts, especially for the Triwizard Champions. On Valentine’s Day, Seamus and Cordelia celebrated their 2-year anniversary. Their friends, who had treated the couple to a dinner, toasted to them and to many more years. Seamus and Cordelia had then toasted to each other. “To forever.”

The second task snuck up on Cordelia, much to her annoyance. She was worried, which wasn’t really surprising news to Seamus. But what was surprising was Cedric’s absence. The Irishman knew his girlfriend’s twin brother wouldn’t miss the second task for the life of him. “It’ll be okay, my sweet Cora,” Seamus said. “I’m sure he’ll be there.” “I hope so,” she muttered. Then she rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here though.” Seamus smiled, but then remembered that Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had also disappeared during the night. He knew if he brought it up, it would only cause her more distress so he kept his mouth shut. “Do you know what you’re going to do in the water?” Seamus asked. “Yeah,” Cordelia answered. “Cedric taught me how to use the bubblehead charm. I’m solid for one hour.” “Good job.” The couple shared a quick kiss before Cordelia asked for the time. Seamus looked at her waterproof watch and said it was about 10:30 and that they should be headed down to the Black Lake pretty soon and Cordelia agreed. She was wearing her black one-piece swimsuit underneath some lounge pants and her yellow jumper. She had her wand strapped to her right leg and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The lovers walked hand-in-hand all the way towards the lake, where they got into a boat that would take them across the lake where a giant viewing stand had been assembled for closer insight to the task. Viktor and Fleur were already standing around when she arrived, and Cordelia took notice to how many towels the staff was holding onto. It was just the four champions who would be resurfacing, right? Cordelia shook it off once again while she walked over to Seamus for warmth. The breeze on the lake was quite chilly. She also noticed that more people were starting to support Harry, which both bothered and relieved her. When Harry arrived, it was 10 minutes until eleven, so the judges and advisors told the champions to strip and get ready to dive into the water. Cordelia unzipped her jumper and took it off making a certain platinum blonde haired fourth year yell out, “All right, Delia! Take it off!” The Slytherins cackled while Cordelia turned a sharp gaze on them all. Seamus also scoffed at the Slytherins and moved Cordelia behind him and stood guard while she slipped out of her lounge pants. “Put it back on!” Draco added, only for the Slytherins to laugh even more. “It’s fine, babe, really,” Cordelia said as Seamus turned back to her. “They’re just a bunch of jerky idiots.” Albus Dumbledore then called the champions to attention, and Seamus whispered a final “good luck” before backing off slightly to allow the champions to huddle with the Hogwarts headmaster. He explained the rules and that they would all enter at the sound of the cannon before letting the students take their places. Dumbledore then shouted out a repetition of what he told the champions, only after he said “cannon”, the cannon did go off and three of the four champions jumped in with no hesitation. Harry Potter remained on deck as he choked trying to swallow his handful of Gillyweed. Moody, despite this, then pushed him into the water. Cordelia and Fleur immediately placed themselves under the bubblehead charm while Viktor partially transfigured himself into a shark. Cordelia shuddered at the sight of the man with a shark’s head before she started to swim down to the lake floor, knowing exactly what it was she was looking for. She snuck a glance at her watch to see that it was already 11:15. Fifteen minutes had passed since she dove in. Cordelia then pushed herself to swim faster because she wanted first place in this task. She eventually came to a kelp forest and swam through it. Something grabbed her leg, but she simply kicked it off with her other foot and kept moving. That’s when she heard it. The vocalizations. The Merpeople. She was close! She continued to swim towards the sound; the closer she got, the louder it became. Cordelia entered the Merpeople’s Village and began to scan the area for something that might be hers. She continued on her way when she saw the four “items” that were taken. Ron Weasley. Hermione Granger. Cedric Diggory. Gabrielle Delacour. She hurriedly swam over to her brother. He wasn’t dead; she could tell because little air bubbles kept escaping his mouth. She took another look at the other three treasures and paired them up with their champions before she shot a red spark at the kelp that kept Cedric from floating to the top. She glanced around nervously again. Was it really okay to leave everyone down here like this? She decided to wait for another champion to show up, just to be sure she wasn’t the only one who managed to figure out the clue from the first task. She didn’t have to wait long. Harry – or rather, what was half-Harry and half-fish – came swimming up to the group. Cordelia stole a glance at her watch and locked eyes with Harry before tapping her wand against her watch warning him that there wasn’t a lot of time left. Harry seemed to understand, nodding as he swam down to untie Ron’s kelp. Cordelia nodded back and she grabbed her twin’s arm and began to ascend to the surface with him. She was grateful that it was Cedric and not Seamus who down here, because had it been Seamus, Cordelia would’ve easily abandoned everyone else just so she could be sure that her Irishman would be okay. Cedric she knew was fine because they had that twin bond. The two broke surface just as a clock tower bell chimed 12 times. They were facing the wrong way. Cordelia turned her surprised brother around and together they swam to the stand where Seamus and Cedric’s friends fished them out. She refused to be pulled out until Cedric was on deck because “he was under water longer than I was”. Seamus then pulled her out of the water and immediately wrapped her up in several towels and a blanket. He then draped another towel over her head. Shortly afterwards, Viktor and Hermione surfaced. Cordelia grabbed her friend’s hand and pulled her out of the water. She noticed Viktor also refused to be looked after before Hermione, which she thought was sweet. Professor McGonagall then came over to the two girls and quickly wrung out their hair before using a drying spell on them. She also draped another blanket over them. “What’s going on?” Hermione asked. “Uh…I think Harry may still be waiting for Fleur down there.” “Cordelia?” “Yes?” “Fleur’s right there.” Cordelia blanched when she finally caught sight of the French girl, who was staring into the water with a sad look on her face. Her friends were comforting her. Before Cordelia could react, Ron and Gabrielle surfaced. Fleur immediately ran to the lower deck and called out to her sister as Ron helped her swim to the edge. “Is Harry with you?” Hermione asked Ron. The ginger had turned around and shook his head with a worried look on his face. Neville and Dean pulled Ron out of the water and before anyone could make anymore fuss, Harry literally shot out of the water and landed on the deck. Relief flooded through Cordelia’s frame as she told Seamus to grab some towels, which the Irish boy did. She and Hermione rushed over to a shaking Harry and both wrapped one of their drier towels around him. Seamus then arrived with more and the three wrapped up the boy who lived while telling him what happened while he was under. While Cordelia commented on his bravery, Hermione scolded him and told him that there was no way the administration would ever put them in harm’s way. This could be seen when the four looked towards the judges who were conversing with a Merperson. He pointed his trident at Cordelia first, then at Harry making Albus nod with a thoughtful look on his face. Fleur came and broke their focus by thanking Harry for saving Gabrielle before she kissed both of his cheeks. She fluttered away to go find Ron to thank him as well. “Are you warm, love?” Seamus asked. “Getting there,” Cordelia responded with a smile as she leaned against her boyfriend. ~ Eternal Glory ~ Cordelia Diggory was awarded first place, with 50 points. She showed a unique command of the bubblehead charm, and also refused to leave the stolen treasures until another champion arrived on scene. Harry Potter was given 47 points for moral fiber and also not leaving the treasures. This put the two Hogwarts students in a tie for first place, which made everyone at Hogwarts happy. Viktor Krum was awarded 43 points. The seven points that were docked were from his un-complete transfiguration as well as arriving after the time limit expired. Igor Karkaroff was very vocal as he expressed his displeasure at Durmstrang’s second place placement. Fleur Delacour was forced to retire before 11:30, which severely affected her score. She emerged from the second task in third place with 25 points. CHAMPION POINT TOTALS 1. Cordelia Diggory, Hogwarts | 97 points 1. Harry Potter, Hogwarts | 97 points 2. Viktor Krum, Durmstrang | 83 points 3. Fleur Delacour, Beauxbatons | 68 points

[okageshadowkingfannovel]

Book 2: Chapter 2

The day is calm and peaceful. Ari notices the brilliant blue sky overhead. Little plops of cloud lazily mosey on their way. As he walks, there’s a breeze that escorts him down the path and gently tousles the loose strands of his hair. There comes the sounds of bird chatter and snapping twigs. The sun warms his shoulders and paints the dusty path and the grass and the trees and the rocks all in vibrant, blazing color. Such a perfect day provides an interesting contrast to the panic attack rocking around in Ari’s head.

This is it. I’m actually doing this. Is this happening? Am I supposed to be doing this? No, no, I was never supposed to leave Tenel. Ordinary boy. I. Am. Ordinary. But then, of course, there’s Stan- er, King Stanley High-something Trini-whatever the XIV, and then suddenly, here I am. Taking down ghosts with sticks. Overdrive. Overdrive? Really? Overdrive? What the heck is overdrive? And a stick? Really?! A stick?! I should be dead. I shouldn’t be walking right now. I should be dead in the Church basement! Dead! Dead! Dead!

Ari walks down the path, away from Tenel, away from home - very, very slowly.

What do I do if I run into another ghost? Ha ha. If? Of course I’m going to run into another ghost! I’m going to run into a whole FIELD of ghosts! And then, THEN! I’m going to die.

“Boy, your panic is so loud I can smell it!”

He looks over his shoulder at Stan. “That doesn’t make any sen-”

“Silence! You’re moving so slowly! We’re not even past the circus yet!”

“The circus?” Ari pauses, inspiration putting the panic to rest for a moment.

“We’re still in sight of that wretched to-”

“Let’s go to the Circus!”

“What?!”

“The Cyphertext. Of course, we can’t leave before completing the Cyphertext.”

“Oh no you don’t, slave! We just spent a whole morning wandering around that fly smear of a town! You will NOT stall us any longer!”

“Alright, let’s take another look to be sure,” muses Ari as he fishes the Cyphertext paper out of a rucksack pocket, “ok, ‘sdnuorg eht ot og s’tel ereh si sucric eht.’ Well, it’s obvious that the whole thing is backwards. The circus is here. Let’s go to the grounds. Alright, we’re going to the fields!”

“Slave, I may not be able kill you, but I will set your shoes on fire and I will laugh!”

“Look! The banner! And hey! The tent’s still up! I thought the circus troupe would have moved on by now.”

“Grrr …” Stanley growls.

As Ari strolls up to the giant candy striped tent, he spots a suspicious looking man leaning against one of the tent poles. He casually picks at his fingernails and looks as if he’s waiting to persuade somebody to buy something.

“Uh … hello?” risks Ari.

The suspicious man looks up and as soon as his eyes set on Ari, he seems unimpressed.

“Hmph,” he grunts, “congratulations. You’ve passed.”

“I … oh!”

From some reason, Ari thought it would take just a little bit longer that this.

“From now on, you are a member of the Sermo Comixtus Society, the World Crypto Organization.”

“Um, th-thank you.”

“It’s a great organization. It …” the man pauses to shuffle a card out of his pocket, “… it ‘searches for the world’s secrets through cyphers.’ We are playing … I mean, studying the creation and decoding of cyphers. Now, we give you, the newcomer, the following command.” The man reaches into his pocket and pulls forth another fancy looking envelope. “This cypher indicates a location somewhere in Madril. We heard you’re heading that way, right?”

“Er, yeah … I guess.”

“Decode this one, newcomer. You must live up to the Society’s expectations!”

Without another word, the suspicious man runs away, leaping into the surrounding forest and disappearing amongst the trees.

“Humans are so weird.”

Ari can only nod as he looks on, still able to hear the awkward tromping and thrashing as the suspicious man fights for a mysterious and suave disappearance. But then, as that fades into the distance, another sound makes itself known. It’s familiar and rhythmic and … ticking.

“Stan! Do you hear that?”

“Yes, the idiot just tripped over a log. Now, I think he just ran into a beehive. I hear buzzing.”

“No! Not that! The ticking! Do you hear the ticking?”

Ari looks to the ground frantically, expecting a tiny gear to be settled in the dust at his feet.

“You think I’m so simple that I would fall for such a lazy, pathetic trick? Stop. Wasting. Time!”

After a moment of concentration, Ari realizes that this ticking is not coming from the ground, but is instead catching him from behind, from much farther away. He spins around and wanders towards the other side of the tent, towards the stone pillar in its stone circle -

- which is glowing.

Ticking and glowing.

“… it’s never done that before,” Ari whispers.

“Slave, what are you talking about?!”

“You don’t see that? That thing’s glowing! It doesn’t normally do that!”

“All I see is a rock sticking out of a bunch of other rocks.”

He looks over his shoulder helplessly. If Stan, the weird magic shadow, isn’t seeing the weird magic stuff going on, what does that mean for Ari? It’s a question that’s been nagging at him since the gear in the basement. He turns his attention back to the stone circle and walks towards it cautiously.

The glow is a bright, vibrant, burning green and it radiates out from the circle’s center in waves. With each wave comes a ‘wap’ sound accompanying a persistent low humming - and the ticking of course.

It isn’t until he’s standing right in front of it that Ari sees the gear - or gears. They float before the stone circle much in the same way the one in the Church basement did. There’s four of them, interlocking and turning and ticking.

“Slave, has my dark malevolence overwhelmed you into utter stupidity once again? Why are you just standing here?”

What do you want to bet these break as soon as I touch them?

Ari reaches out a hand and pokes the largest gear, seemingly at the center of the quartet’s motion. At the barest graze of his fingertip, the gear halts as does its fellow gears. The ticking stops. They hang there a moment as if unsure of what to do with themselves. But then, the center gear falls backwards, out of its place, and they all fade away.

“The rocks! They’re glowing!”

“Oh, now you notice?!”

“What is this strange structure, slave?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I’ve never seen it do this before.”

Ari’s hand is still outstretched. With the gears gone, the green waves are able to lap against his fingers. Each brings a strange, pulling sensation as if to draw him into the center of the circle. In a moment of curiosity or absentmindedness or possibly stupidity, Ari lets himself be drawn into the glow-

And immediately regrets it.

He screams as his body lifts into the air. But it’s not like flying or floating. It’s more like he’s being sucked up through a straw, thinned out and stretched. His vision fills with white and a high pitched ‘wap’ pierces his ears. This all happens and passes in just a moment, but it is a strange and terrifying moment.

When his feet touch ground again, when his body is un-thinned and un-stretched, when the white clears from his eyes and the sound dies away, Ari finds himself nowhere near the circus tent. In fact, the more he sees, the stronger his suspicions that they are suddenly nowhere near Tenel. He sees ocean, large and blue and infinite, meeting the sky at the horizon. And the ocean has never been visible in or near Tenel.

Ari finds himself on an island that towers into the sky. When he peaks over the edge, he is met with the horrifying vision of miles and miles of rocky cliff-face extending down into the sea. This awkward island doesn’t stand alone. Off in one direction, there are more islands, hilly and grassy and seemingly untouched by people. Out of the water in another, there stick the jagged shapes of stone ruins, man made things half swallowed by the sea and reduced to bones.

On the island Ari finds himself, there’s nothing but more stone circles. The one at which Ari stands, has the same green glow as the one into which he stupidly stepped. But all of the others are still and glow-less. There are six in all.

“Welcome to the Island of Wap-Wap,” comes a completely monotone voice.

Ari whips around. Standing by the edge, there is a woman dressed completely in black. She wears a black dress and black gloves and black shoes. She even has chin-length black hair. The only spot of color on her, which Ari doesn’t notice until later, is a red flower tucked into the band of her bell shaped black hat. She watches him with wide, black eyes. She’s very pale and thin, but there’s a macabre prettiness about her.

“The … island of Wap-Wap?”

“Also known as ‘Traveler’s Island,’ it connects to all over the world from this stele.”

The monotone way she talks makes Ari think of an encyclopedia having been brought to life.

“If you are to continue to travel,” she carries on, “you will have to frequent this place. But I’m afraid most of the portals lie dormant.”

“Portals …” Ari looks around. “Do you mean … these rocks link to other places?”

She nods. “Correct.”

For a moment, Ari thinks he should be more freaked out by the existence of portals magically linking cities across the land, but having his shadow possessed by a reincarnated evil king has severely increased his tolerance for ‘weird.’

“Where do they go? Is there one that opens up in Madril?” Ari asks hopefully.

Maybe I won’t have to face that field of ghosts after all.

She shakes her head. “There’s no way for you to know … until you unlock them.”

Ari sighs defeatedly.

Nevermind.

“Um … so, who are you anyway?” Ari asks, “how did you get here if all the portals are closed?”

Up to this point, the woman’s expression has matched her way of speaking - flat, emotionless, monotone. However, at these two important, natural to be asked questions, Ari thinks he catches just the barest hint of what might just be a smirk …

Wait, no, nevermind, her expression hasn’t changed in the slightest.

“Good questions … for another time, if fate allows.”

“Oh …” says Ari awkwardly.

“Fare thee well, traveler.” As if to dismiss him, the woman in black turns her gaze back out to sea.

“Oh … um … bye then.”

Feeling odd about the whole encounter, Ari turns away from her and starts to inspect the stone circles. Each one is like how the Tenel one used to be - kind of strange, but overall ordinary and frankly unimpressive. He supposes this will have to be yet another thing to keep an eye out for while trying not to die out in the world.

With nothing else to do, Ari wanders back over to the Tenel stone circle, the green waves beckoning him once more. Holding his breath and bracing himself, Ari steps into the green waves. He doesn’t scream this time as he’s spaghetti flung into the ether … but he wants to.

In the next second, his feet hit circus ground. There is the circus tent, surrounded by the familiar forest of Tenel. Off in the distance, there is the path with left leading back to safe and familiar Tenel and right leading to what is most assuredly Ari’s untimely death in the fields. He steps away from the stone circle, eying it suspiciously. The glow of it taunts him with its strangeness.

Just another weird thing to be aware of, I guess …

NOTE: Okage Shadow King is owned by Sony Computer Entertainment and Zener Works. This novelization is purely a fan-work and the writer claims no ownership over the characters, general plot line(s), etc.

[damedarcy]

Hi Jax & Hi Jinx autobiography @DameDarcy on Feral House Fall 2018 @AdamParfrey A little tale about what a complete maniac I was when I was 20 years old in San Francisco. MY HORRIBLE LOVE LIFE / The Reverse Mermaid Part 2 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When I walked in on my boyfriend having sex with the Reverse Mermaid I freaked the fuck out. It took a minute for my mind to process the shock of what I was seeing. But once it did, I coldly said. “Your dead now Bitches.” Then I turned back around, walked into the kitchen. Appearing once again in the doorway, I threw the dishes and glasses at their naked bodies. The dishes smashed against the wall and broken glass crashed on the floor. They cowered and screamed, trying to shield themselves from the shower of broken glass cutting up their cheating asses. I took the broken glass shards and attacked them. Cutting them and cutting myself. My boyfriend overpowered me and held me down. The Reverse Mermaid scrambled to gather her odious rags, and ran. My boyfriend tried to talk me down through my hysteria but I was inconsolable. He was, as I mentioned before a huge support system and mentor to me. I was deeply in love with him and we had been together three years. He was the second love of my life ( my first being High School BF T. of course.) And I couldn’t believe the pain and fury I unexpectedly found myself in this afternoon. He took me to the living room and gave me a couple of Xanax while I sat shaking on the couch. While he went back into the bedroom to get dressed I cut my wrists more with the broken glass and took the rest of the bottle of Xanax. When he came back into the living room I was already passing out and bleeding out everywhere. So he called 911. While dying, I hallucinated that I went to Atlantis. I saw a beautiful immaculate and elaborate undersea ball, populated by people of various races blended with different kinds of fish, spinning under chandeliers in a bubble dome with portholes looking out to a view of sea life. Mana rays and exotic glowing fish and sharks swimming by. The mysterious music made by Mermaids sung on a stage made from a giant shell, and the Reverse Mermaids were there too, ladies in long silver gowns shimmering with fish scales, ugly fish heads wearing rococo powdered wigs and large elaborate hats. As a mermaid I joined in the dark blue song, swimming in the calm, peaceful, deep. I repeated my name to stay afloat Darcy, Dark Sea, Dark…. Sea? Dark? Now I no longer knew my name, nor did I have any cares in the world. I floated deeper into this place, content to drift away and be lost in the depths. Then I came to a bright torturing white light, and a creepy homeless troll weirdo from the hospital was pulling back my privacy curtain to see the "hot" young girl wearing only a thin hospital gown get her stomach pumped. I tried to scream but the tube in my nose stopped me. It really fucking hurt, and then they put gross black charcoal back into me and made me drink white cement. The doctor asked me, “Why would you do such a thing?” I responded “ Might as well face it, I’m addicted to love.” He was yelling to someone I couldn’t see, “What did she take?!” Then later an I.V. drip was in my hand, with my arms wrapped in bandages also in restraints with my arms bound to the sides of the metal hospital crib bed. Weird sticky circles were on my chest making it so I could hear my heartbeat as beeps through a monitor thing by my head. When I regained most of my senses I spoke through a mouthful of marbles. “Please untie me from this bed. I need to write what I saw in Atlantis.” My boyfriend was there, also wrapped in bandages. Slumped like a wet dishrag in a chair. I had not seen him until now. He acted as my advocate and convinced the nurse to unbind my hands from the metal rack thingy. He brought me a pen and paper and I wrote what was to become later the Black River short story in Frightful Fairytales published by Ten Speed Press in 2002 and also my first feature film Planet Blue finished in 1999 and optioned in 2001. (I’m Only telling this part of the story to show how long some ideas take to get published). Anyways, while I was writing my boyfriend was crying and saying how sorry he was. He tried to touch me. My heart monitor started racing and I was like “Don’t touch me.” Then the doctor came back in with a clipboard and said “ I was a harm to myself and others and I had to be admitted into a different hospital.” I put my clothes back on and my boyfriend and I took a cab to the mental hospital. By the way this whole incident took place while I was wearing a black Victorian mourning gown which was ninety years old and already ripping from dry rot, held together with a series of elaborate paste diamond broaches. Now, due to the incident, it was super shredded and my cut up skin and bandages were showing through the rips. At the mental hospital they made me put all the broaches in a lock box due to the fact they were century old rusty long pins that could harm myself and others. I told the orderly lady while being admitted, “First off, I have to be out of here by Christmas because my Mom bought me a ticket to Idaho and if I miss the plane she will be furious. Secondly, due to Regonomics cut in health care for the mentally ill, because no one is paying for this, I’m sure I will be released soon anyway so you might as well release me now so I can make my plane.” They didn’t give a shit, and they put me in a room with a bunch of weirdos. Because I came in wearing ripped up black rags, they made me wear two hospital gowns together one in front and one in back so my butt wouldn’t pop out. I sat in cafeteria that smelled like Lysol with depressing people. The dudes were looking at me creepy and coming on to me and making lude comments. “Can I request not being in a co-ed mental ward”. I said to the nurse. “You are refusing to eat.” She responded. “Duly noted.” She curtly scribbled on her clip board. “I’m a freakin vegetarian bitch!” I said. “I’m eating the peas, but I can’t eat chicken! You can’t hold that against me!” Meanwhile my boyfriend came back with my clothes. He had grabbed the first thing he could see in my closet which was a bright red barn dancing dress printed with bandanas with a super flouncy skirt. Also he brought a giant valentine box of assorted chocolates. An endless stream of my wacky art school friends annoyingly came to the hospital and bothered the staff from the beginning of visiting hours in the A.M. till they kicked them out at the official closing time. Plus my boyfriend was there all the time holding my hand when he wasn’t working at the library. We took over the art therapy room and cut obnoxious capers as usual while gobbling up all the chocolates. All this behavior got me kicked out of the mental hospital early. The sugar from the candy plus the Reverse Mermaid foreign bacteria injected into my utheria through my boyfriend cheating on me, and the stress of battle, caused me to get a bladder infection which quickly moved into my kidneys. This sent me back to the hospital where I had to immediately go on dialysis or else my kidneys would have shut down and I would have died. Needless to say I officially broke up with my boyfriend. After these two near death experiences back to back.

[phoebemartellcrawford-blog]

Welcome to the jungle

Not sure where to even begin with this one. I just got back from a week in the Amazon Rainforest and it was the most incredible experience of my entire life. We left early Monday morning to catch our 8:20 am flight where we flew to Coca, Ecuador where we got on a boat on the Napo River. After about an hour we made our way to a bus on the Maxus Road which is within the Amazon Rainforest, but also within a number of oil reserves and indigenous communities. We stopped along the way at a home of an indigenous family who was selling bracelets, necklaces, etc. We continued along the road where trees had been cut down and there were clear signs of oil companies that had moved in a number of years before. Finally, we got to another boat and headed down the Tiputini River for about two hours until we arrived at our station which was far out in the jungle. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. All the noises were bugs or birds (sometimes mammals) and it was so separate from the world I forgot immediately that there were actual things going on out there. There was only electricity on the camp for 6 hours a day, 10am-1pm and 6:30pm-9:30pm and there was absolutely no wifi or service. The first day we got there we had a brief orientation and then had some downtime before dinner. A couple of my friends and I went swimming in the river for a little bit (I accidentally peed a little when I laughed and you’re not supposed to pee in the Amazon river because there is a little parasite fish that goes up your pee stream so I got kinda nervous and got out because I wasn’t about to get a parasite on my first day). After dinner we went for a night hike and of course the first thing we saw was this long ass snake on a tree right near my cabin. It was a harmless snake and some people held it but I stayed a solid couple arm’s lengths away from that bad boy. After the night hike we went to bed because, well, no electricity makes for early nights.

On Tuesday we went for a really long hike in the morning to a lake where our guide took us out on a canoe. After about thirty minutes canoeing around the lake and looking for wildlife Jose (our guide) stopped us in our tracks and said he saw an anaconda. Sure enough, about 10 feet away deep in the bushes was a big ole anaconda. We sat and watched him for 20 minutes, and it was definitely watching us too. It moved its head to get closer to us and get a better look, wiggling its little tongue at us. It was a surprisingly calming experience watching the anaconda. I really hate snakes and the thought of actually seeing one before I got there freaked me the f out, but we were just silently observing the dude and he was silently observing us and we were all going to be alright and it was fine. We finally made our way back once we were starting to get a little uneasy watching the anaconda and finished our hike by having to tread through the river. Because of the rain the river was 3meters higher than normal so the bridges we had to cross were completely submerged. Standing in the water after seeing an anaconda wasn’t IDEAL necessarily but I made it back. We went out for another hike later that day when it was beautiful and sunny but a rain storm quickly moved in while we were in the forest and the trees were going nuts. One huge branch flew from the sky and almost took out my friend Brady. We had to hustle on back home.

On Wednesday we had a solo observation where we were placed in the woods alone and had to chose something to study and write about for an entire hour. I chose a dead tree with a bunch of mushrooms growing on it but there is only so much you can write about mushrooms and eventually 5 tamarin monkeys crashed through the trees above me. Right before we went into the woods my professor explicitly said not to go monkey chasing but I mean they were SO CUTE I had to. I didn’t get lost though don’t worry. 

Thursday was probably one of the Top 5 days of my life. We started the morning at 5:30 with a walk up to the canopy tower to watch the sunrise. It was a pretty grey and misty morning, but it was still amazing to be on top of the Amazon Rainforest watching as day broke through and all of the animals woke up (or went to sleep for the nocturnal homies out there). After the sun rose, we walked down to the salt lick where animals go to clean themselves/eat some minerals. We sat there quietly for 30 minutes and after about 20 we smelled some peccaries (Amazonian pigs) and then heard them close by. I had developed a cough recently and coughed shortly after smelling the stinky guys and they got scared of me and ran away. We then walked to this place with a bunch of dead plants except for one tree and Jose opened up the tree and there were a bunch of little tiny ants and he told us to eat them and they tasted like lemons. Then there was a bush that he cut and we could paint our fingernails with it so basically we had a spa day in the middle of the amazon #spoiled. After the hike we had some downtime so I took a nap in a super nice hammock then we had lunch then got to play soccer with the workers of the station which was sooooo fun. They couldn’t pronounce my name so apparently they were calling me “Hebe” when they would pass me the ball and I wasn’t paying attention so I let them down a lot because I just definitely did not get the ball. Then we went on a float down the river. We were given life jackets and told to jump off the boat (mind you this was RIGHT AFTER we went piraña fishing) and float for an hour back to the station. The entire float we just sang songs like a bunch of idiots and laughed a lot (didn’t pee this time!!!!) and had an incredible and magical time being swept away by the current. Before dinner a couple friends and I hiked back up to the canopy to watch the sunset. It was such a moving experience getting to watch the sun fall under the canopy and disappear into the trees. The sky turned red and then eventually black and the forest grew quiet. Once we climbed down (28 flights of stairs) we had a nice big group hug and started on back to camp. I’m kind of a sucker so as we were walking and talking about how lucky we all are I started crying (happy tears) and was quickly engrossed by another group hug. Just felt so lucky and blessed to be surrounded by amazing people in an amazing place. After dinner we ended the night by playing a competitive game of spoons with the workers of the station. One worker showed us a picture of a 24hour snake he had found a couple days ago so that was less than ideal. (24 hour snakes are snakes that bite you and then you’re dead in 24 hours soooo... nice.) 

We left on Friday feeling so lucky, and happy and humbled to have had that experience. It was humbling because I was really shown the things that matter in life. There are things out there bigger and far more important than the every day little things we stress about- things like the loss of habitats for biodiversity or species going extinct- things that are going to affect us and things that are being affected right now. The world is a really big place, but its also so beautiful and its so important but I’ll get off my soap box now because I could definitely get preachy.

Our flight back to Quito was booked for Friday, so we had to spend the night in Coca where we weren’t allowed to leave the hotel. It turned out to be a nice hotel and we left at 12:30pm on Saturday so it wasn’t too bad. Saturday night I got to see Rowan and then we spent all day today (Sunday, January 28) at La Carolina park which is huge and fun and beautiful. We went to the botanical garden and learned about trees and flowers native (and not native) to Ecuador. Then there were food tents set up so we go some food, hung out in the hammock and just chilllllllllllled. It was a really great ending to a really great week.

I do have an essay that I am avoiding writing (I only have 50 more words yet can’t seem to bring myself to write them) so I’m signing off for now! 

[ayellowbirds]

Want to support what you’ve been reading? Here’s a Paypal donation link for my household, and here’s my Ko-Fi link. Want to just go back to the previous update? That’s right through this link.

Here’s Part 25. Oh my gods, it’s almost over?

After this is done, there’s going to be a lot of editing. Not only on this, but Cypora’s Guide to Becoming an Evil Queen, too. I got tons of helpful feedback from @thesylverlining on the original text, and in addition to fixing issues with it and tightening it up, I’m going to go back and forth between these two to try and keep them cohesive and consistent as a pair of stories. As for the next Cypora’s Guide? Well, maybe that’s for next November. I started with a B title , and then a C title... now let’s see what will be a good D title....

Oh, yeah. The story. We pick up where we left off:

Beyond the gate, the land was within a forest, as before. But it seemed to be one in a valley that rose up around them, lined with strange, pale trees.

No, that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t a valley, it was more like the land itself was warped and bowed in the distance, and instead of growing upwards, the trees seemed to grow relative to the angle of the land. It skewed the horizon in ways that gave Cypora a headache. That was only the distance, however; immediately outside of the gate, towers rose up around them, ranging in height from as tall as a great tree, to the level of Cypora’s waist.

She approached one of the smaller ones, nearby. It reminded her of something between a mushroom or fern growing out of the ground, and a raw crystal on a stone. The whole of it was black, and had a strange smoothness that felt somewhat oily while being quite dry. Set within each were numerous orange panels, and Cypora realized they were windows. Within, she could see the rephaim of small folk; shreteles and kapelyushnikles milling about.

“Yasker, come take a look,” she called, and the little fellow bounded over in long leaps. He looked through the windows, and then backed away as a line of tiny shades wandered out of a door that Cypora hadn’t even realized was there.

They seemed to walk through each other with ease, and even passed through Cypora at the level of her ankles and calves, but at the same time, they interacted with things around them. It was as though the rephaim existed out of sequence with one another and mortals, but not their environment.

Looking back to where they’d come from, Cypora saw that the grove of trees had been replaced by a stone tower, made of twisting columns that intertwined organically. When she floated back over to that, she saw that the stone had a grain to it like wood.

“Looks like petrified wood,” Caracosa observed from beside her. She turned to the towers. “Jet, and amber, or maybe copal?”

“Those are…” Cypora felt the idea at the edge of her mind. Something she’d read in an old book. As she ran her hand over one of the shretele-sized buildings, it came to her. “It’s all petrified plant matter. Fossils of trees and sap.”

Orangella whistled, which made Sharf whine. Or maybe the lack of wood did it. Cypora knelt down to pet her, and dug in her pockets. She’d taken to carrying wood chips for just this reason; Sharf took the offered treat without further protest and busied herself with munching.

The others looked around; Licoricia peeked into one of the human-size buildings, while her sister kept watch around her. Licoricia called out, “there’s humans and the like in here. I’m not sure about all of them?”

“Things smell weird, here,” Sefora sniffed the air, and leaned low to the ground. After a moment, Sharf followed her lead.

“Do you see anyone familiar?” Cypora asked Shiaroc, who watched as a large, shrouded shape walked out of one of the buildings, and into another. She shook her head.

Someone tapped Cypora on the shoulder, and she jumped a bit. It was Qurra, pointing up. “How about him?”

Cypora followed the frustrating girl’s finger, and saw him. Three meters tall if he was an apple’s height, but far too slender for that stature. Horned, shaggy, and hunched, with a lantern in one hand.

“The Old Goat,” she whispered. The first overlord she had known of from the dungeon, and the first one she knew to be killed.

He stopped in his stride, and turned his head toward her, then leaned down.

“Hoom, taking you long enough it was,” he said, his voice that strange chorus of many voices at once that it had been when Licoricia called upon his spirit years ago. “You’ll want to speak to one of Her angels, then.”

The 15th of Vernary, 5647 CC

It had turned out to be a rather long journey to meet with an angel of the dead, even in Sheol. Scoloaster sat with the others, listening to Orangella’s report; her face had appeared in the fire beneath a pot Acantha was using to prepare a meal for the living and the few dead who could still stomach the idea of food.

“We almost didn’t realize it had been a day,” Orangella explained, “but Caracosa’s been hanging onto a pocketwatch like it was a life-raft.”

“But why should the Old Goat be so aware?” Scoloaster mused. “Rephaim are not, you know, chatty, by nature.”

“Well, we figure,” Orangella began, and then shrugged, “I mean, he figures, too, that it’s half because he was an overlord, and half because we sort of woke him up way back then.”

“Could Licoricia ‘wake up’ others, then?” Keturah asked.

“Yeah, but we’re holding off on that. We don’t want a bunch of shades asking for resurrections before we even know what it’s going to cost.”

“That makes sense,” Bang said. “But I don’t like that you’re going so far away from the dungeon, to meet this angel.”

“Oh, get this,” Orangella said, smiling and seeming to lean in through the vision in the fire. “We haven’t left the dungeon! This whole huge valley is apparently part of it, probably on account of there’s so many rephaim here.”

“Maybe,” Acantha began, staying quiet while stirring the soup in the pot for a few more turns, “something about the Dungeon System?”

“Maybe,” Orangella agreed. “We don’t really know much except what the Old Goat is telling us and that Caracosa agrees with. But it seems like the edge of the valley borders some kind of city, called—”

Orangella disappeared from the flame for a moment, and it sounded like she was checking with someone on the other side.

“—Kaf, yeah,” she confirmed. Apparently it’s a big one, so we should be able to meet with an angel right away.”

The 19th of Vernary, 5647 CC

Even angels of death had schedules, and the earliest they could be seen after ringing the gigantic bell to call the attention of the angel overseeing this region was days later, as confirmed by the attending spirits. Waiting in Kaf hadn’t been so bad. They had followed the rules Caracosa had given them, and it turned out the city had accommodations suitable for mortals. The rephaim there seemed more aware of them, and even operated businesses.

It wasn’t even so much of a city, as it was a city-sized office, with towers of shelves lined with tomes and scroll cases, many with far larger duplicates that could have served as buildings, themselves. The angel who oversaw it was known as Hitpartsutza’am, and contrasted so sharply with the mundane nature of the situation that Cypora could only wonder at how they managed it. Several stories tall, the angel had the form of a vast bull, with the face of a beautiful golden-skinned human set beneath the chin of their otherwise bovine head. Immense columns of steam rose from their nostrils at all times, and Cypora had to remind herself again and again that others had surely dealt with this angel in the past.

“We would like to know of the costs for either raising as zombies or dybbuks, or even outright resurrection of the rephaim of the dungeon known as the Timber Barony,” Cypora said, offering as deep and respectful a bow as she could manage. “As well as our companion, Caracosa.”

Hitpartsutza’am billowed huge clouds of smoke, and gave an almost imperceptibly small kick of their hoof. It was enough to send a quake throughout Kaf, and caused a book to tumble into Cypora’s hands. She nearly fell over with the sudden weight of it, but managed to simply open it up.

Inside, written out in multiple alphabets, were page after hundreds and hundreds of pages of names and descriptions of deceased dungeon-dwellers. In each case, there were glowing golden numbers indicating the approximate values of different types of raising. Some were so close in price that it seemed absurd to even consider doing anything less than true resurrection, while others varied by vast sums between bringing them back as a bodiless dybbuk, and restoring them to healthful and hearty life. Others still cost absurd amounts to begin with, mere pages from those who could have been brought back with the change left over from another.

“Perhaps we could have some time to consult this to reach a decision?” Shiaroc asked. Hitpartsutza’am snorted again.

“The karishnik will see thou out,” they said from both bull and human mouths at once. “Make an appointment when you are prepared.”

The being that came out from behind Hitpartsuza’am to escort Cypora’s group looked like a cross between the forms of a human and fish, with the broad and heavy-bellied physique of a circus strongman or sideshow wrestler, all in ashen gray and trailing a finned tail.

“One of the bloody-mouthed beasts,” Caracosa whispered to Cypora and the others.

The reason for the title was obvious as the karishnik made their way from the distance between Hitpartsuza’am and Cypora: what she had mistaken for a belt or sash across their stomach was instead revealed as a broad, open mouth of shark, with countless blood-stained teeth set within in what seemed like endless rows.

“Hhhh,” they rasped, arriving before Cypora, and looking over her head to her companions. The mouth on their belly moved when they spoke, but only dripped blood, and made no sound. “Hungry. Follow.”

As the whole group Orangella filed in behind them, Licoricia took the book between their hands; Licoricia was reviewing it as they walked. “How do you figure we figure out the exchange rate? Who appraises our stuff?”

“Weigh treasure, balance soul,” the karishnik responded, without looking back. Again, it repeated, “hungry.”

Caracosa had warned them that the beasts might tempt them to feed them and transgress against the laws of Sheol, but Cypora hadn’t realized they did this by being annoying.

[iluvzfewdnstoreyz]

The Monster of Ceder Hill

“This may be too big of a post and it kind of spans out over a good chunk of Texas throughout the years, but I don’t really get an outlet for these things so I will include everything with every detail as I can remember them. I would say the first weird, or remotely scary, things that started happening when my family soon moved here from Missouri, was in Cedar Hill.

For the first few years we lived there, everything was pretty uneventful. The area we lived in was a nice neighborhood and every house was in close proximity. Your pretty standard suburban neighborhood I would say. We started hearing really weird sounds around our house. Could have easily have been birds, but it sounded like a combination of an electric saw and a cricket chirp. It was so loud that it sounded as if it was coming from the bushes outside the window, but no one in the house ventured out into the night to see what it was. I am surprised if neighbors didn’t hear it. That’s how loud it was.

Also, my sister would often sleep in my room because she was scared of the dark and we would sit up and look out of the window toward the infamous radio towers of Cedar Hill. Especially during thunderstorms. One night we were doing our usual thing and I had decided to lay down finally and I noticed my sister wasn’t replying to me, or acknowledging what I was saying so I looked up and she had her head pressed firmly against the screen looking down toward the first floor. I sat up and asked, “What are you looking at?”

She didn’t answer, so I scooted closer to the screen to look where she was looking and noticed a shadow of something dash off toward the alley. A lady behind us had floodlights all around her house as a security precaution. Her son played for the Oakland Raiders and for some reason people would harass her or vandalize her home. So, there was plenty of light in our driveway, and even the side of the house, just from her lights. I didn’t see what it was, but it moved fast and the shadow that was cast on the neighbor’s house was almost moving like as if whatever it was floated off as opposed to ran. If that makes sense.

The next day, I asked my sister what she had seen and she described a weird creature she had never seen before. She said it had big eyes, fangs, and something came out of its mouth. YEARS later, I had stumbled across a book about Chupacabras and the image of that thing matched what my sister claimed she saw. I ask her about it today as adults, and she doesn’t remember.

Fast forward a bit more. Our house wasn’t haunted and I wouldn’t ever consider these next two events to be considered a haunting, but they are creepy. My mom had called me downstairs one night and called me into her room. I walk in and on her TV over and over it said, “Shawn did it. Shawn did it. Shawn Did it. Shawn did…” Her and my dad asked me if I did that. And obviously, I didn’t. I had no way of knowing how to do that on a T.V. Even to this day with me being way more tech savvy, I’m unsure of how anyone would actually input just text on the screen.

My sister, still sleeping in my room from fear of the dark, and I would sneak downstairs at night to get food and eat in our rooms because we weren’t allowed to do that. She had got upstairs before I did and again, like the window incident, she was staring at something in my room very intently with a look like “What is that?” on her face. I asked what she was staring at and she looked at me and said, “I don’t know. This thing with big black eyes was standing on your bed and then when it heard you, it sunk down and disappeared.” Needless to say, we slept in her room instead that night.

I don’t know why, but I never told my parents that. I think the last really WEIRD thing I can think of is one day during the beginning of spring when it was still cool enough to have the windows open, I was getting dressed and walking down the stairs. I was just about to pull my shirt over my head. As I looked to my right at one of the open windows and I saw the weirdest set of legs I have ever seen. If I could describe them. They looked like hairless kangaroo/ dog feet, but larger and more stout and bulky. Hell, like a Velociraptor. I would say they looked like that, but not scaly. It looked like skin. I was so shocked and taken back about what I had just seen that I ran and dashed down toward the window to try and see what the hell that was. I couldn’t see anything.

I jumped over the couch and ran straight to the back door. Our fence had blown down from a storm so whatever it was could easily just walk in the backyard. But nothing was there. I was too scared to go outside, but this was broad daylight and in a neighborhood. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Whatever it was looked like it had only two legs, but I never saw the whole thing so I can’t say it was a bipedal creature, but I have never seen legs like that before, or ever again. As far as Cedar Hill goes, that is about it. My cat one night was at the back door and when I opened it, he motioned for me to follow him and I also found guts of a goat from a nearby farm scattered all over the place in this small batch of trees close to the neighborhood, but that was about it.

As I remember. My friend’s grandparents owned some land in Blum, TX. It was about an hour or so south of Cedar Hill. We would go there often for Thanksgiving and get-togethers. One particular Thanksgiving my friend and I decided to visit the neighbor. This was a huge plot of land, but the neighbor’s house and property line were close to theirs, so you could actually see his house from theirs despite both properties taking up many acres. He had told us to be careful because there was a panther around the area. When he said that, he said it kind of as if he was unsure of what he was saying, but I didn’t question it much. We hung around and talked with him and his daughter arrived with her son and he took us up this hill where he and his brother would play hide and seek. We get to the top of the hill and there is a big opening within the trees and what looked like a bunch of dead fish hanging from a clothesline and small trailer home.

On his grandpa’s property. He said it was weird and he had never seen it before. Right at that moment in the tree line, we heard bipedal footsteps closing in on us. We immediately ran down a trail, further from his grandpa’s property. I had no idea where we were going, but I was the fastest and they were behind me following me. Despite us running in fear and potentially for our lives, my friend was screaming and crying that The Blair Witch was behind us and it was going to kill us. He was in tears crying. I, however, was laughing. Telling him that it wasn’t real and it was faked for the movie. “No! It’s not! It’s real and it’s behind us!!”

As I’m laughing I look down this hill and I see my friend’s grandparents house and I see our family and friends outside. So, we slid down. Dropped in said hello and went back to the neighbors. We told him what we had seen and he looked extremely puzzled because no one should have been up there on his property. On this same spot of land, down at the front of the property, was where my other friend and his family lived. He was tired so he left to go walk to his house and he came back shortly later saying that he thinks he saw that Panther. However, he said, “I thought it was a big black dog. It just stared at me. So, I turned back and came back here.” It was only a couple of years ago I learned that here in Texas many people had been seeing black panthers, but ended up being these things called “Dogmen”. I’m not saying my friend didn’t see a Panther, but he specifically said he thought it was a big black dog. I asked him about it a few months ago and he laughed through text said: “Oh, yeah I remember that!” I immediately asked him, “Were you sure it was a panther and not a doglike creature or something?” never answered me. He read the message but never replied.

The last incident on this property was me and my first friend I mentioned. (The one who was sure Blair Witch was gunning for us). We were outside, at night, chilling with our BB Guns when something with some sort of incredibly fast ability darted from some brush, into another set of brush. Almost instantaneously his aunt came out of the house and hurried us inside. I remember she had an attitude like she was scared for us. I don’t know why she did that with such urgency, but her timing was very odd. My sister spent more time there than I did. She said they always heard some crazy weird stuff out there.

Fast forwarding a few years. My dad had lost his job and ended up finding a temporary one in San Antonio. So, of course, we had to move. I read a story on here last night about this weird kid off of Hearne Ave in San Antonio and it reminded me of this. We moved next door to this one weird family. They kept to themselves and I think I hardly ever heard them talk. Their house looked creepy too. It was always the creepiest, darkest house on the block in comparison to the rest. Their son’s name was Nelson, and I only knew that because my sister met him at some point. But she said his dad made him go inside.

The kid wasn’t odd looking, but he had the longest hair I have ever seen any boy have. It was down to his butt and he was maybe the same age as my sister (12 at the time). One time I went over there to see if he wanted to come out and the dad answered and just like the story of Hearne Ave, their house was very dark inside and they only opened the door slightly. I hardly ever even seen them leave. I would see Nelson in the backyard sometimes playing by himself, but he never talked to me. I also want to note that I always heard what sounded like footsteps on my roof. Not on the ceiling, but on the roof. Of course, I never ventured out to see what it was.

The rest of my time there was pretty uneventful as far as spooky stuff goes, but we eventually moved back up to north TX where I now currently reside. The last bit of this involves, of all things, what I believe to have been a Bigfoot. In of all places, Benbrook. Benbrook isn’t a rural area, it has some woods, but it also isn’t deep forest like you’d think would be an ideal place for a Sasquatch. My friends and I would always try and go camping when it got cold and Benbrook was free and for a bunch of teenagers with no money, you can’t beat free.

The original spot we went to ended up becoming pay to stay and we just spent all of our money on hot dogs and booze to drink for our underage shenanigans. So, we found a new spot. My friend was gathering up some wood sometime after the sun went down and he calls to me in a frantic tone. He tells me to bring a flashlight and hurry. So, I do. I leave the rest of our group and run to him which was a short distance away. He had me shine the light way up into the trees. Way higher than 6ft. I asked what the deal was and he said “Dude. I swear I saw something large go from that tree to that tree.” The trees were small. Way too small to hide something large. They were too small to hide a child. So, perhaps whatever it was hit the ground? Maybe it even saw me coming with the light and dashed off? I’ve always been a firm believer in the unexplained and I am not above the existence of a Bigfoot. Gathering information over the years. These things tend to be a lot faster and way more agile than one thinks. They’re also not often far from civilization apparently. Benbrook is not far from Downtown Fort Worth.

If you get to the right spot, you can see Fort Worth. Hardly a deep forested place you’d expect to run into something as large as a Bigfoot. Anyway, back to the story. This new spot was actually pretty cool. So the following year we went back but this time a little further up than where we were. We had seen a huge shooting star and we all cracked jokes about how it was an alien ship. At this moment, we started hearing heavy footsteps in the tree line across the creek from us. Anyone who has ears can hear the difference in bipedal steps and something on 4 legs. This was clearly two legs. It walked around us as much as it could but never coming to the treeline within range of the firelight. It stopped and we never heard it leave. Whatever it was. A homeless person? Some kids? Could have been anything, but it was clearly on two feet.

That pretty much sums up my stories. I hope the post isn’t too long. I have many others, but they occurred outside of Texas. As well do most of the people in my family. I noticed on this site that a lot of stuff seems to be happening in The Valley (Donna, Mcallen, Harlingen). And guess where I gotta go for a wedding next year? Hopefully, that trip will be uneventful and flying humanoid free.”