#like picking up ticks in tall grass

[nexus-nebulae]

Unexpected Consequence™ of using our amnesia to rewatch all the stuff we like. second chance to pick up fictives in passing

[ellieslittlewh0re]

━ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 ୨⎯ 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧! 𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⎯୧

𖧷

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟣 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟤 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟥

⟢ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗎𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈, 𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗒/𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗓𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇.

⟢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉! (𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 mid-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝟥𝟢𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟣𝟫-𝟤𝟤 𝗂𝗌𝗁) 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝗏𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝖽 & 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝖽, 𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 (𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒) 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍

𝙖/𝙣 - 𝗂 𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 ���𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝟤-𝟥 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

It was a slim chance, almost next to none that you out of all people would get the job. It's not like you have any experience with taking care of kids, maintaining a house, and especially of this scale. But here you were, standing in front of your new home, at least for next however long you can keep your new boss satisfied.

The driveway itself felt like it was straight out of a movie- luxury cars, perfectly polished laid stone, lined with landscaping around the edges that looked almost fake from a distance, not a singular blade of grass being out of line.

As you take in the surroundings, slowly making your way up the (what feels like) mile long driveway, a man is closing the front door behind him.

"Hello!" He calls out, waving his hand in your direction to come over.

He extends his arm as you approach him, offering a gentle handshake, and introduces himself as Owen.

He looked slightly out of place, not as much as you did, but still noticeable.

You laughed nervously, still unsure who "Owen" is supposed to be.

"Are you the one who I emailed about the job?" You asked, clenching your fingers nervously around the handle of your suitcase.

He placed his hands on his hips, looking a little off-guard before seemingly understanding,

"No, no, sorry, that would be my wife- ex wife." He corrected himself, giving you a tight lipped smile that felt more like a soothing self-pity tick.

You nodded, and looked around, unsure of what to say next.

"Sorry-" He laughed again, "I'm just stopping by to drop our son off. She's inside."

"Ah" You mouthed, and thanked the man. He walked past you, past the Bentley, and approached the driver side of the less expressive looking car in the driveway before turning around and shouting a "good luck".

What you do know- 1. Your boss is a woman, 2. She's divorced (seemingly), and 3. She's seriously fucking loaded.

What the man meant by "good luck" you can only assume. Maybe she's a bitch, or maybe, he's just bitter about whatever their history is, but you don't even have time to think of the possibilities because the front door is opening once again.

"You're late."

She stood in front of the wooden, 8, maybe 9 foot tall door, not even bothering to look at you as she fiddled with the cufflinks on her perfectly tailored, white button down.

"I'm so sorry, I had a uber cancel-"

She sighed, very clearly unimpressed by your excuse.

"Bedtime is at 7, and there's food in the fridge-"

She turned, walking inside, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with her longer strides as she briefly escorted you through the foyer, and into the kitchen, "There's emergency contacts here in case of an emergency." She sighed deeply, from annoyance or exhaustion you couldn't tell, pointing to a small notebook island.

You rocked on your heels, nodding at her every word because, honestly, you were scared and weren't sure if you could trust your voice at this point.

"Alright." She exhaled, not really directed at you, and picked up a coat that was hanging on the back of a bar stool, draping it over her arm, "Oh, one more thing-" She leaned forward, and placed a hand on your shoulder, violating your senses with her cologne, "-don't give him any sugar after 4, he'll keep you up all night."

You looked up, and finally, she sees you, her blue eyes etching themselves into yours.

"Yes, ma'am."

And Abby wasn't sure if it made her feel better or worse when she did this. Sure, you seemed responsible enough- shy and respectful, but shit, you were pretty.

She backed away and cleared her throat, turning her back towards you as she made her way towards the direction of the front door, the heels of her chairman shoes echoing against the hardwood floors.

-

The house was eerily quiet when there wasn't a 4-year-old running around and filling its vastness with his laughs and clanking of toys, not that you minded though, you were exhausted.

You sat in what looked to be the "family room", given the chest of toys, and large mounted t.v. with leather couches that felt too firm, almost like they had never been sat in by someone who weighed over 40 pounds, still, it served it purpose in giving you the place to readjust.

What you do know- 1. She works late, 2. Her son's name is Carter, and 3. She's scarily attractive.

Wait-

She's attractive? No- you can't think that. She's your BOSS, and she has a ex-husband, so, she's most likely straight, right?

You got up, pacing around the house, and looked around to make sure everything was where it should be in hopes it kept your head occupied.

You re- read through the notes she had left behind in the note pad, what the security code was, where your room was etc... but, even then, you still found yourself examining her handwriting, which also found a way to look expressive.

And then you thought about how she dressed- clean and sharp, the muscles in her back flexing as she walked away, and how tightly her shirt hugged her arms-

Your head darts towards the archway that just barely kept the front door out of sight, the faint beeping of the security code being dialed in freezing you.

The door opened and closed, the wall still shielding the company, and you anxiously fixed yourself- pushing strands of hair behind your ears and smoothing out the wrinkles on your pleated skirt.

Abby rounded the corner, looking down while unbuttoning the first three buttons of her shirt before looking up.

She looked shocked to see you standing there, and evidently waiting for her to get home.

She remembered telling which room was yours in the notes, right?

"Jesus it's-" She looked down at the watch on her wrist, "- It's almost 11. What are you still doing awake?" She sounded almost annoyed like she was looking forward to the peace and quiet that you now ruined, but she wasn't annoyed per se.

See, it's been a while since she has been this attracted to someone, and after being married for 12 years and losing all the skills that comes with flirting, she wasn't sure how to handle it.

"Couldn't sleep." You lied, knowing you didn't even try to go to bed, but she doesn't need to stress herself out with you when she has her own stuff to deal with.

Abby sat at the kitchen island, pushing her sleeves up to her elbows, and you can't help but notice the new skin- the thickness of her forearms and how the muscles curved along the side.

She looked exhausted- still polished, but the front stands of her hair were now loose from her slicked-back hairstyle, gently dancing over her cheeks when she moved her head.

Suddenly, you felt like a burden and didn't want to piss her off more than you thought you already had. So, you excused yourself and started to walk past her towards the hall, but she stuttered something, something that you didn't quite catch.

"Hm?" You turned around, eyes wide and eager to hear what she had to say.

It's been awhile since anyone cared that much to listen to her, she thought.

"Care for a drink?" As soon as the question left Abby's lips, she felt a little embarrassed- hell, she wasn't even sure if you were old enough to drink, not that she cares if a person under the age of 21 drinks alcohol, but she does care if the question came off... weird.

Maybe it was weird.

By the look on Abby's face, it's like you had already declined her offer- defeated and a little bit of a bruised ego, ready to remove herself from the conversation all together, and never speak of it again.

"Sure." You agreed, smiling at her, and she returned the smile, her face lighting up like she hadn't sat down with someone for a drink in a long time, which is no surprise to anyone when you're a mom and have a long, demanding work schedule.

She got up, walking across the kitchen to an intricately detailed wooden cabinet, "What do you want?"

She started to list all the different names of liquor, some sounding foreign to you as you sat down in the barstool that was next the one she was occupying previously, swiveling it back and forth with your feet, "I'll have what you're having." You say sweetly, not wanting her to go through the extra effort of pouring something different.

She chuckled, looking at you over her shoulder before dropping her head, shaking it back and forth.

She pulled a bottle from the middle shelf, setting it on the counter along with two short glasses.

She poured the dark caramel liquid, filling the glass by only an inch or two, and slid it across the island, "Ladies first." She motioned her hand, waiting for you to taste it.

You brought the crystal to your lips, your cheeks hot from the undivided attention she was giving you, but you brushed it off and tilted the glass back.

The liquor burned your throat, every part of you wanting to spit it out, but you swallow anyway.

"It's good." You lied, and not very convincingly, which humored Abby, chuckling at your reaction before pouring her own drink, filling it more than what she had done for yours.

She cornered the counter, joining you in the bar seats, "You get used to it."

You were too shy to look at her face in case her eyes met yours, but you had no issue with looking at her hands- how big they were, almost making the glass disappear in her grip, the veins running across the top of them that trailed your eyes to her fingers- also strong and thick to match the rest of her.

You caught yourself staring too hard- pulling your eyes away and grabbing your glass, taking another painful sip.

Abby was, of course, oblivious to this, thinking you were just trying to appease her.

-

The drinks got forgotten in the conversations you two shared, and now, sitting with her on the couch, talking like you had known her longer than just a day, but you could thank the alcohol for that one.

You weren't necessarily wasted, but it was the kind of drunk where you weren't really paying attention to what Abby was saying or why she was even laughing for that matter... something about her son? Whatever.

You were, however, paying attention to her face, how beautiful she was, and how her hand so effortlessly settled on your bare thigh, and a warmth that pooled into the pit of your stomach following.

When Abby realized she was touching you, she jerked away and cleared her throat, "It's late-" She stood up, half facing away from you so you wouldn't notice that she- a full-grown, mature woman was blushing, and not only that, but she was blushing over her brand-spanking-new employee.

A small disappointed "oh" brushed past your lips before you ultimately agreed.

It's probably for the best to keep this relationship professional, Abby knew this, but fuck, she'd be lying if she denied the fact she thought about you the moments leading up to her falling asleep that night.

⟢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @aouiaa @macaroni676 @sheluvslilith

[peeweekey]

cliff talk | sebastian x reader

word count: 2.1k

summary: sebastian brings you on a ride.

tags: emotional hurt/comfort, slight angst, dialogue heavy, sebastian and reader have a heart to heart

a/n: i never thought i'd be writing for the emo boy but here i am. hope you guys liked this as much as i liked writing this! :D

Like the green rain phenomenon or the cute little junimo creatures that live in the community center, there’s always something new to experience in the valley. As odd as it might be.

Hunched over, tending to your crops—is like living in wait, the calm before the storm, the thrum of anticipation as you await the next exciting thing.

Like today—now.

“Ah, there you are.”

The garden shears in your hands are dropped into the thick down crawl of growing fruit. You look up, squinting your eyes due to the warm beat of dying sunlight.

“Sebastian?” you pause, looking up at him from your spot amongst growing melon vines. Your overalls smeared with dirt and damp with sweat—this is the last state you’d want to be seen in.

“Hey farmer,” The keys dangling from his index finger jingle as he gives you a close-lipped smile. “Wanna go for a ride?”

—

The place Sebastian stops at is quiet.

But not in the way most people think—the valley is never quiet, birds chirping, the breeze singing through tall grass and the rustle of branches swaying slowly. You’re aware of the sounds in the recesses of your mind. 

The view is breath-taking.

The sun set long before you arrived on Sebastian’s cliff side spot. It’s cool and grassy, ticking your ankles as you walk through the field. The air, no longer warm but a cool breeze that you greedily inhale.

You stop right before the edge, there’s a big drop that you'd rather not slip and fall into. Zuzu city lay just under the horizon, a smatter of light in the otherwise now-dark forest. A cluster of flashing lights that remind you of stars—that have fallen and gathered from the night sky.

“Amazing, I know.” Sebastian says, a few steps behind you. He’s leaning against his bike, staring at the same view as you. “Zuzu city is miles from here, but there’s so much light—you can see it even from high up.”

You fold your arms, turning your back at the view—facing him. “Well, it is nicer from afar.”

Sebastian gives you a look, then nods his head to the grassy patch behind him. “Mhm. Let’s sit?”

You settle down together, side by side. You, him, and his motorbike beside him—there’s barely any space between your legs. You feel the warmth of proximity—so close. What you’d give to bridge that gap once and for all.

“Want a drink?” he asks, pulling out a beer bottle from his hoodie pocket—your brow raises, a miracle it didn’t break on the way. “Only got one though.”

You shrug, taking the bottle. It’s warm—warmed by his body heat. “S’okay with me. We’ll just have’ta share.”

He looks at you, eyes momentarily flickering to your lips as you use your teeth to pop the bottle cap off. “I guess we do.”

—

The beer is settling warmly low in your stomach, loosening every tightly wound muscle in your body. You feel weightless, the edges of your mind made fuzzy. 

“I’ve been savin’ up a lot,” he suddenly says, picking absentmindedly at the blades of grass underneath him. “Almost have enough too. Once I do, I’m skipping outta this town on my bike.”

You nod your head. “It is a pretty cool bike.”

“Mhm,” he drawls, patting the side of his motorcycle—almost lovingly. “It’s gonna take me all the way to Zuzu city.”

“Zuzu city,” you repeat slowly, feeling the sound of the words in your mouth. It’s unpleasant, Zuzu city is a place you’d rather leave behind. You look down at the view of it, squinting. “Why go there?”

He pauses, inhaling the cool night air deeply. His fingers itch—like they’re searching for the comforting hold of cigarettes he so enjoys. 

A part of you wishes you didn’t ask. Difficult conversations and cliff sides don’t mesh well together, you think. You don’t dare move a muscle as you wait for him, your eyes drifting back to the glittering light-filled view of Zuzu city.

“It’s suffocating here—everything about the valley,” he replies mirthlessly. “I live in the basement of my mom’s house for fuck’s sake. I know how she looks at me, like she could’ve done so much more to make me less of a shitbag. Maybe she could’ve, I don’t care. It’s way too late now.”

A low whistle escapes past your lips. You swirl the beer bottle loosely in your grip. “I see…”

Sebastian narrows his eyes at you, scoffing. “You’re pretty shit at comforting words, y’know that?”

“Harsh,” you look at him quizzically, shoving the beer bottle into his hands. He accepts it immediately. “What do you want me to say, Seb?” 

“Nothing,” he smirks, downing a generous gulp of beer, the bottle is a little less than half full now. “‘m just teasing. Don’t gimme that look. I didn’t want comfort anyway, I’ve had enough of that. I want you to tell me the stone cold truth.”

“Promise not to get pissed off?”

Sebastian clicks his tongue against his teeth, then smiles. “Depends on what you say.”

“Wow, guess I’ll have to lie.” you joke.

“Hey—”

“Kidding.” You laugh softly at his pinched expression. His eyes narrowed—lacking any real aggression—at you as you poke harmless fun. 

You grin, slowly turning back to the view. “You won’t find yourself there,” you say simply, taking a slow sip of beer, the smoothness of it running smoothly down your throat. “Believe me, I’d know.”

Sebastian turns to face you, irritation spelled out in every feature of his face. 

“Smartass…”

“Hey, you asked for the stone cold truth,” you lift your fingers into air quotations to emphasize your point.

“Tch. Tell me this then. If I can’t find myself there, or here in the valley. Where the hell do I go?” 

You pause, clicking the bottle with your nails idly. He’s irritated obviously. But you think more frustrated and confused than anything.

You sigh, then smile. The valley hasn’t been the kindest to its resident shut-in.

“Mid-life crisis at 24,” you tease gently, poking at his side. Sebastian shoots you a heatless glare. “Don’t worry too much Seb, your hair is gonna turn gray.”

“Ha-ha,” he replies sourly. “You talk as if that isn’t the same reason you moved to the valley.”

“Hey, I gave a generous amount of my life to Joja,” you snort, shifting your feet into a better resting position. “I paid my dues over there before I found some semblance of peace here.”

“I can’t just sit around and wait my whole life.”

“Then don���t,” you reply simply. “God knows I wish I followed my dear old gramps’ footsteps sooner.”

“It isn’t that simple.”

“Yep. It isn’t. It does get easier though.”

“You say it so easily.”

“Sometimes, it just is.” you reply. “Only sometimes, though.”

For all you remember, your grandfather absolutely adored the valley, though he couldn’t convince you in the height of your angsty teenage phase to do the same. You’re long past that now, life didn’t go as planned and you ended up right where your grandfather said you would be.

Funny, how fate works so mysteriously, so weirdly.

You shake that thought away, turning to Sebastian—who has the same contemplative expression as you.

He’s silent, thinking. His fingers grasping and twirling the drawstrings of his hoodie. “You never told me the story.”

“Well,” you purse your lips, handing him the bottle. He drops the drawstrings to grab it.  A wordless agreement between the two of you to share what remains of the liquid. “You n’ver asked.”

“I wanna hear it,” he says, looking at you at the corner of his glittering obsidian eyes. “please?”

“How polite,” you laugh, he lightly hits you on the back of your head with his palm. “Ouch. No need to be rough w’me, I’ll tell you.”

You clear your throat with an obnoxious ahem. “Once upon a time…”

“—C’mon farmer, stop messing around. I wanna know your story,” he interjects, and it almost sounds like a plea. “No theatrics.”

Your lips flatten into a grim line. He’s being unusually insistent on the topic. But now that you think about it, you haven’t told anyone why you moved into the farm. Not your mother, not your father, and definitely not anyone else in Pelican Town.

Sebastian may be your first, you think to yourself—innuendo unintended.

You hug your arms closer to your chest, the cool draft sliding over your skin—making you shiver. No better way to battle the uncomfortable situation with an even more uncomfortable conversation. You take a deep breath.

“I was a fresh graduate when I started working at Joja—worked my way up from customer service to marketing. Crazy, right?” you chuckle, though it sounds hollow even to you. “All the pretentious proposals I would write and those useless meetings that’d take forever. There wasn’t a day where I didn’t hate my 20 year old self for starting at Joja. 5 years down the fucking drain when I quit. Let me tell you, it’s the best decision I made in my stupid corporate slave life.”

Sebastian says nothing, he hands the bottle back to you, which you take a generous swig of. You grip the bottle tightly around its neck, the warm feeling of alcohol loosening your tongue. 

You exhale deeply through your nose. “I was in my cubicle when I just ‘bout had enough—by the way, I hate that they’re called cubicles, I felt like a number in some executive’s spreadsheets instead of a living breathing person.” all that talking and your throat itches for more of the sweet burn of alcohol—you oblige it with another weighty gulp. “Grandpa left me this letter, told lil’ old me not to open it until I really, really needed to. Now that I think of it, he knew.”

Your voice cracks by the end of it. Your tongue feels way too thick for your mouth. And your eyes blur—there seems to be twice as many stars as usual.

Sebastian stays quiet, reflective even. Though his hands have stilled, and he feels closer than he was earlier. It’s warmer, you think.

If he asks, you’ve decided you’ll blame it on the alcohol.

—

You and Sebastian talk for hours after, the bottle of beer being passed between the both of you too often. You feel a tad tipsy—having drank the lion’s share of beer. Your head lolls onto your arms as you talk about everything then nothing. 

There’s a fair moment of silence that blankets the two of you after—certainly not uncomfortable. You feel Sebastain knows the fact more than anyone. He seems to thrive in the quiet moments.

“I don’t think I’m leaving the valley any time soon, though,” he says softly, breaking the tranquil silence. 

So he’s been thinking. “Why so?”

He shrugs his shoulders, taking the final sip of beer that finishes the bottle. “Something’s makin’ it worth staying a little longer.” His eyes meet yours, albeit for a second—before he refocuses on the cliff side view. 

Ah, you understand.

Suddenly, alcohol isn’t the only thing making you feel so warm. You thank the stars for the dark, for hiding any warm pinkness in your expression. You smile, more to yourself than anything. Taking the bottle from him, brushing your fingers over his perpetually cold ones.

The bottle is lighter than it was at the beginning of the night—your shoulders too, less achy, less stiff. With all that weight off of them, you can afford to be less wound up. 

You tip the bottle over the grass, nothing but a single drop comes out. You watch it fall and drop into the grass. “Good. This something thinks you’ll come to like it even.”

Sebastian tilts his head, a tentative smile playing on his lips. “That’s presumptive.”

You shrug, smirking. “I have a sense for this type of stuff.”

“Really now?”

“Mhm. I don’t just lie for no reason. And my senses are telling me you’ll be alright.”

You hear the silent hitch of his breath, the momental widening of his eyes and the tremble in his jaw. It saddens you slightly, no one has probably reassured him of it before.

God knows you needed some while working at Joja, you’re just returning your dues to the universe—and to him.

He laughs softly, and bitterly. His fingers twitch again—for that darn cigarette. “God, I sure hope so.”

Sebastian will be just fine, you know that. And it’s about time he knew it too.

[gibbysoup]

🌙 𝓗𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼 🐈‍⬛

Chris x reader

“Oh come on, it’s just a bunch of hocus pocus”

Chapter 2

The cold October wind blew in y/n’s face as she followed the boys to the Sanderson Cottage. Nick and Chris seemed to be arguing as they didn’t agree on which way to go.

“I told you, you idiot we have to go this way, it’s quicker and not totally in the woods..” Nick argued at Chris.

Chris shook his head as he listened to Nick yap about not going the right way. “Whatever man..besides we’re gonna end up on the Forrest anyway…” he told him.

Nick eyes practically rolled to the back of his head with Chris’s response. “Whatever, hope you get a fucking tick well you’re walking through all that tall grass.” Nick shot back.

This caused you to snicker, and Dani to look up at you. “So, which one do you think is cute again?” She asked y/n. “It’s Chris right?”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she looked down at her sister, hoping that the boys were too caught up in arguing to notice the two girls behind them talking. But non the less y/n shushed Dani. “Would you keep it down a bit?” She asked, but then answered her question. “And yeah..it’s Chris.” She said.

Dani shrugged a bit. “I think nick is my favorite..he said he liked my costume..and he likes purple.”

—————

Y/n, the triplets, and Dani walked up to the outside of the Sanderson cottage. Dani grabbing her older sister’s hand tightly as they approached it.

“Legend has it that the bones of a hundred children are buried within these walls.” Matt said, taking the keys from his pocket and going to unlock the door.

That definitely didn’t help Dani’s worries at all. “Oh, great.” She said. Before they entered, Chris went up to y/n and Dani.

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna let anything happen to guys okay?” He said, glancing down at Dani to assure her that she was gonna be okay. He then caught a glimpse of y/n. “I’ll protect ya..”

“Well, I don’t think anything is gonna happen in there, but thank you for offering your services..” she told him, a slight smirk on her face as she still held her disbelief for the supernatural. She knew she had to play it cool.

Matt was finally able to get the door open by jamming his shoulder into it. “Alright, it’s open..” he said, signaling the others to come in.

As the four teens and on child enter the collage, it’s pitch black. “I can’t see a thing.” Dani stated, her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness.

“Well there’s a light switch around here somewhere.” Matt said, carefully trying to find his way around the place.

Y/n found a display of lighters and picked one up, flicking the light on, giving them a small glow so they could see a little. “I found a lighter.” She said, going over to Matt to help him find the light switch. Once it was found, Matt turned it on.

Y/n blinked a couple times and let her eyes adjust to the bright lights of the cottage. “That’s better.” She said, flicking the lighter off then pocketing it.

As the group looked around at the Sanderson sister’s old things, unbeknownst to them, Something watches them from outside the house, watching every move they made. Almost as if it was guarding the house.

“Here’s the original cauldron, and upstairs is where they slept.” Nick said, playing tour guide as he pointed to each thing. They move over to where the ‘book’ is in a display case.

“This is the spell book of Winifred Sanderson. It was given to her by the devil himself. The book is bound in human skin and contains the recipes for her most powerful and evil spells.” Nick explained. It was obvious he was the most knowledgeable about this stuff, so Chris and Matt let him play the lead. He just got so excited about this stuff.

Dani on the other hand, seemed to be a bit freaked out by all the which artifacts. “I get the picture.” She said. As Nick continued to explain the stories to her, a certain candle caught the attention of y/n.

“What’s that?” She asked, looking at Chris.

“Oh.” He said, the leaned into y/n and whispered. “that’s the black flame candle.” He said, trying to freak her out a bit.

She went over and read the sign by the candle “Black Flame Candle. Made from the fat of a hangman. Legend says that on a full moon it will raise the spirits of the dead when lit by a virgin on Halloween light.” She then pulled the lighter out of her pocket. “So let’s light the sucker and meet the old bats..” she turned to Chris. “Wanna do the honors?” She asked him.

“No thanks.” Chris said, immediately shaking his head. Nick turned his head and looked over at y/n, who was standing by the candle and messing with the lighter.

“Hey don’t go messing with that are you crazy?” He walked over to her as she was still holding the flame a little too close to the wick of the candle.

“Oh so you’re saying I shouldn’t put it any closer?” She egged on, moving to light the candle, but then her arm was immediately attacked by a black cat. She shrieked in shock and pain as the cat’s claws scratched her.

Chris immediately grabbed the cat and was able to get it off her, then putting them down, making them scurry away. “Where the hell did that come from? Jesus are you okay?” He asked, walking over to y/n to see if she was alright. He took her arm into his hands gently, seeing the claw marks on the sleeve of her jacket.

She couldn’t help but feel her cheeks heat up when he touched her, but it wasn’t just that he was touching her, it was the genuine concern that he had for her that was making her fall for him more than she already was.

She snapped out of her thoughts and nodded. “Yeah..I don’t think they drew blood so we’re good.” She said, catching her breath a little. He nodded, taking his hand away from her arm.

Dani, on the other hand, was now slightly panicked. “Okay, y/n, you’ve had your fun. It’s time to go. Come on, guys..” she said to the group.

The boys looked at one another and seemed to agree.

“Y/n, she’s right, let’s go.” Nick said.

“Yeah and we’re technically not even supposed to be here..” Matt interjected.

Y/n scoffed, flicking on the lighter once more. “Oh, come on, it’s just a bunch of hocus pocus.”she lights the candle and the flame turns black. Her face immediately dropped. “Uh oh.”

Suddenly the flames of the chandelier pop. The floor boards under their feet begin to move as a green light shines from below. Suddenly it stops. Once it was quiet, everyone looked at each other, unsure of what to say next.

“What happened?” Y/n asked, wondering if this was all just some sick prank, that the boys had set up.

“A virgin lit the candle….”

Taglist: @keerahsturn @fratbrochrisgf @izzykinzz678 @st7rnioioss @jamiesturniolo @v33angel @kaisturni @valkatriee @sturnschrissy @moonk1ss3d @bsham14

[lance-thunder-reporting-live]

Good morning Amity Park, I'm your ghostly weatherman, Lance Thunder. Today's Saturday, May 25, and there’s a 0% chance of rain. Highs are in the low seventies, and the lows are in the high fifties.

Ghostly ticks have been appearing in Amity Park and Elmerton everywhere normal ticks are found. Danny Phantom has been seen scanning over large areas with his ghost catching thermos in order to capture them, but he hasn’t captured them all. Please use precautions against ticks when going into tall grass, wooded areas, or anything similar.

Summer break has started for all students in the Amity Park School District. The 2006-2007 school year is officially over.

The Fentons have completed their ghost proof sunburn relief gel. Please go to Fentonworks to pick up the gel if you were affected by the sunburn ghost on Wednesday.

The Fentons will likely not be driving today.

[pointpilot]

Untitled Labru Fic

synopsis: laios indulges kabru in his childhood country bumpkin lifestyle. laios is a freak AND kabru learns something about himself

word cont: 935

inspired by my post here

-

“Did you know you can eat these, Kabru?”

Securing his hands around the base of a branch and a leaf which it was tethered to, a rip was heard as he took the leaf into his delicate hand. 

“I supposed I didn’t.” Kabru replied, attentive eyes following the rich green leaf now in front of him. He noticed the fronds had a sort of peach fuzz to them as they caught themselves in the orangey-blue sky. “These are called Winauk leaves, they come from Winauk trees. I’d be careful with eating them all the time, though.” Laios aimlessly waved the leaf around.

“Why?” Kabru queeried, arms folded as he lay his back against this tree. Before looking up at Laios, he admired the open field they relaxed in, tall grass swaying whichever way in the wind while rays of heat gently tingled their skin. 

“Invasive beetles from the Eastern Archipelago are known to carry fungi that infest the leaves. If you eat this leaf with the fungi present, you could get a really bad disease.” 

Laios threw the leaf in his mouth. 

Dumbass!!! Then why would you eat it!?

Kabru screamed in his mind, he then started to say this aloud, but his words came out like this:

“Oh, is that safe to eat then?” He asked with a gentle smile of concern, pointing to Laios’ mouth as he obnoxiously chewed, the blond sitting himself next to him. “I’ve eaten these so much as a child that I can taste the difference. Want one? I’ll taste test it for you!” He gestured his hand towards the branches of the tree. “I promise they’re really good. Almost minty.”

Kabru had an ultimatum. Keep a friendly, albeit flirty relationship with Laios to continue to truly see how his crazy-ass ticked, or get a disease and die. Truly, he was interested in Laios’ history and how it shaped him into the person he is now. Which is why he went out into the vast rural lands of Melini with him to indulge in Laios’ former rural lifestyle. Kabru knew how much he missed his homeland, and used this as an apt opportunity to become closer to him, while also being curious as to what this entailed. 

“I’ll try a leaf.” Kabru forcefully beamed, splaying his palm out so a Winauk leaf could be placed in that empty space. Laios beamed back, rushing up to grab a leaf for Kabru. In all honesty it was quite adorable how excited Laios became introducing Kabru to his former lifestyle. Oh well, it is what it is. If he truly did get sick, Falin could work her magic. 

-----

The next day, Kabru surprisingly didn’t become severely ill and die. Today he walked beside Laios in one of Melini’s many produce fairs. This was the norm for any rural type of area anywhere, and Laios was just geeked to see it. 

Many farmers had their best produce up for sale, beautiful vegetables, fruits, and even monster foods such as basilisk eggs and mimic claws to name a few. Kabru clutched Laios’ flushed arm harder once he saw a sign indicating harpy eggs were for sale, though.  

As they continued to walk through the colorfully vibrant fair, Laios saw something in particular that piqued his interest. 

“Kabru, look! I’d love for you to try these!” Kabru curiously picked his head up from his melting exorcism sorbet, dripping onto his fingers. He opted to just get rid of it as he was getting tired of the sorbet, chucking it in the nearest trash bin. 

By the time he turned around to what Laios was pointing at, his face scrunched and contorted in a way he thought he never could. But only Laios could make him do that.

WILD ANTS AND CRICKETS

No.

Dear goodness no.

This was nowhere near treasure bugs. Monsters had a sort of magical feel to them, a feel that separated them from regular, everyday insects that didn’t feed off of mana, but fed off of the disgusting dung and sediment of the earth.

Kabru’s resolve broke.

“I’m sorry Laios, but—”

Laios had the most joyous expression on his face, placing an order for two small bags of (thankfully) dead crickets and ants. He held them in his hands and beamed towards Kabru. “Falin and I would go out and eat these all the time! Personally my favorite is cheddar crickets, but these’ll do.” 

And just like that, Kabru realized something.

Laios would probably never have an opportunity like this again. He chose Kabru to come with him not only because he cared, but because deep in his heart he knew Kabru was the only person that’d willingly indulge in his fun activities. 

Kabru also didn’t want Laios’ fond memories of them together to be fabricated all for the sake of studying him. 

He genuinely enjoyed Laios’ company, no matter how crazy he was. 

He enjoyed walking barefoot in the tall grass while being surrounded by Winauk trees, he enjoyed how Laios would take him to secret vibrant strawberry patches, and especially enjoyed playing with village dogs together, running with the dogs in wide, open fields.

He obviously despised eating potentially diseased leaves and right now, didn’t even want to look at an insect.

But in a world where resurrection is common, he could die over and over for Laios and deem each of those deaths worth it. It wasn’t like he hasn’t died numerous times already. The only difference now is that he’d die a million times with purpose.

“I’ll eat both.” Kabru gave Laios a closed eyed grin. 

Kabru threw up the insects five minutes later.

[lovelytsunoda]

this call is coming from inside the house // zhou guanyu

summary: y/n shows zhou one of her favourite small town fall traditions. it’s a shame that they can’t find their way out.

pairing: zhou guanyu x female! reader

warnings: getting lost in a corn maze, reader tells a story about how she failed her driving test the first time (but she passed the second time! that is what matters), brief talk about past regrets

i once fell in love, and it was gas…soon found out I had a heart of glass

she hummed along to the blondie song playing in the radio, pandora charms clinking into each other as she tapped on the steering wheel, her lovers hand resting gently on her thigh as they drove down the old country laneway.

“and there’s where I failed my driving test the first time. i still can’t park for shit.”

zhou laughed, gently rubbing his thumb in circles on her thigh. “babe, i hate to break this to you, but you still can’t park.”

“oh, fuck you.” she feigned offence, turning down a side street. “i have a backup camera now, my reverse parking has gotten so much better.”

she never thought she’d be here; showing the love of her life around the town where she grew up, introducing him to her parents. she’d come a long way from the shy, timid seventeen year old she was, grown into an outgoing, lively twenty-two year old.

and zhou was everything she could have ever asked for. he treated her like a queen every minute of every day, made her feel like she was alive, truly alive. he was her safe haven.

all it had taken for the two to meet was a chance trip to miami. y/n and her friends couldn’t get tickets to the gp, so they’d impulsively signed up to volunteer on race day. zhou had been in her car for the drivers parade, and he asked her out after the race that night. they had never looked back.

she pulled off the street and into the parking lot, indicator ticking in the background as she circled the parking lot, looking for somewhere to park the car.

“love, you might need to parallel park here.” zhou frowned, looking around for spaces. “the lot is packed.”

y/n cursed, lining up her car to parallel park into the only opening in the gravel lot. “god, please don’t watch this shitshow.”

with a laugh, her boyfriend covered his eyes, allowing his girlfriend to painstakingly put the car in reverse and back into a spot, eyes roving between the backup camera and the blind spot mirrors. her shitty parallel parking had been one of the reasons she’d failed her test in the first place.

finally parked, the couple stepped out of the red jetta, holding hands as they walked towards the farm entrance. they passed under a large orange sign proclaiming the farms official name, groups of excited children running back and forth over the grass, paper cups of apple cider in their hands.

she had worked there for three summers, and two falls, setting up the u-pick orchards and picking berries for the farmers market. and in the fall, she had the best task of all: helping plot the course for the corn maze.

the maze's path had barely changed in all the time that y/n had lived there, and there was something so quintessentially small town about it that reminded her just how different her upbringing was from zhou's

"babe, you've gotta be five pumpkins tall to go in the maze without an adult." zhou joked, pointing at the handpainted height sign: five cartoon pumpkins stacked on top of each other.

"you're lucky i love you." she laughs, putting her arms around her lower back and resting her cheek on his shoulder.

"i love you, too." he hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead before wrapping his arm around her shoulders and venturing into the maze.

there was something magical about corn mazes, almost as if they existed in liminal space. the soft fall breeze carried with it the smell of grass, the odors from the petting zoo nearby and the apple cider stand by the entrance. her heart swelled with love as zhou took her hand in his, softly guiding her through the first corner of the maze.

"it's usually a left here." she hummed, pointing a black fingernail towards a bend in the path. "many things about this maze have changed over the years, but never this corner."

"it's no fun if you already know the way." he laughed, following y/n down the bend. "where's the guess work?"

"um, i'd rather leave the maze in one piece."

zhou squeezed her hand reassuringly as they turned left, boots crunching over the leaves underfoot as they walked, jacket sleeves pulled over their hands. "walk on the wild side with me, babe. i'm not going to let you die in a corn maze."

"fine." she sighed, slowing her walk as they approached another fork in the path. "three paths, i'll let you choose."

she knew that this portion used to go straight through the middle, but that it had been changed to the right hand pathway. and of course, her lovely boyfriend had picked the left hand path, and she had to bite her lip to stop the protest bubbling in her throat.

she was supposed to be having fun, not worrying about dying in the maze with no food or water. there was cell signal, so she could always call her brother if worst came to worst.

the passage was narrow, only wide enough for one person to walk comfortably, so she drifted behind zhou, still holding his hand. the wind ruffled his dark hair, and he looked back at her with a fond smile. she blew him a kiss, gripping his hand and wrist as they exited the passageway.

when there was enough space for them to stand side by side again, she moved to stand next to him, placing one hand on his smooth, soft skin and angling his head towards hers before she leaned in to kiss him softly.

"thank you for sharing this with me. i know coming back here wasn't easy for you." zhou said softly, wrapping his arms around her.

"it's not that it wasn't easy, i do love it here, with my parents, and with my brother . . . but i don't really have much left here, all of my good friends are out in the city, and i met them in college. it brings back some memories that i'm not so proud of."

zhou rubbed his thumbs along her sides, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "i know, sweetheart. i know."

she kissed him again, sighing into his kiss. "i love you."

"love you more."

there was a rustle behind them, followed by voices as another group of tourists pushed through the maze. zhou tugged on her arm, pulling her around another, more secluded corner. it was a dead end, but that didn't matter when zhou pulled her in for another kiss.

"what'd you do that for?" she chuckled, looping her arms around his neck.

"wanted to kiss you some more."

public displays of affection had never been zhou's thing. he was so calm and reserved and shy, and the idea of being so vulnerable where other people could see it made his skin itch. things like hand holding, and an arm around the shoulders, a gentle kiss on the forehead were normal, but he was very shy about kissing in public.

she kissed him back, lips curving up into a smile. his lips were soft and warm against her cold skin, his hands cradling her body.

he made her feel so goddamn loved.

"zhou, sweetie?" she hummed, giggling as he kissed her hairline. "i think you got us lost."

"no i didn't. i know exactly how we ended up here." zhou frowned, looking around the dead end space. "it was just through here." he dropped her hand, walking back the way they came. "but i'm not sure where to go from here."

"is that not what i just said?' y/n laughed, coming up beside him and looping her arm around his. "you should have listened to me."

"we should have dropped breadcrumbs."

"come on, i think i know how to get us out of here." she giggled, grabbing his hand. "maybe it's time you let me take the lead."

zhou followed her, a lovestruck look on his face as he watched y/n pick her way back the way that they came, and then down the cetner path.

when that path eventually got them turned around as well, all zhou could do was laugh.

"you were saying?"

"shut up. do you remember how we got here?"

it was a sheer miracle that they found their way out before sundown, but they managed, the sun low in the sky as they emerged triumphantly from the mouth of the maze, y/n's arms pumping up and down in triumph. zhou reached for her hand, pulling her in for a quick kiss when he was certain that nobody could see them.

"you're a genuis, babe." he gushed, draping his jacket over her shoulders. "now, do you want the petting zoo or the apple cider?"

"why not both? we have all night before the maze changes over to the haunted house experience."

"you mean we have to go through that thing again? but this time with animatronics and men in costumes?"

"um, of course! but we know the way through this time!"

he laughed as he squeezed her shoulder.

"you're lucky i love you."

BONUS

yourusername I would follow you into the dark (as long as you could get us out of it)

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @lorarri @cartierre @oconso @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @sidcrosbyspuck @clemswrld @httpiastri @love4lando

[spearmintsmut]

MY OWN MUDBLOOD 7

So glad I kept writing this ~ thank uuu my loves I’m so glad you like it so far 🤍

You had laid on the warm grass with Draco for what felt like minutes and a lifetime. Like the clock stopped ticking and it was just his heartbeat drumming quietly under your ear and the the sound of his breath in the other. Your mind played the last week like a movie in your mind. It made no sense to you that in such a short blip of time, your essentially muggle life with your mother was uprooted, moving from London, to a mansion with a family you had all but just learned of, and expected to treat them as family. To meet a woman your father was marrying in the same day that you were expected to live with her. To meet a boy who had fought in the greatest wizarding world, on the wrong side at that, to hate him so quickly, and give yourself to him a week later. None of it made sense. You couldn’t possibly wrap your head around it, and trying made you dizzy. You still battled yourself, desperate for your father to finally show pride in you, and accepting that he never would. Even bringing you to his new home was likely in a bid to finally have a daughter who might become even half the witch he wished you were.

It was only when the sun started to set and the sky turned a dreamy orange when you realised how long you had laid there with him, lost in your own thoughts. Seemingly noticing at the same time, he gently sat up, helping you to sit up at the same time.

“We should eat,” he simply said, holding his hand out to help you up. Your legs trembled and you felt sore and weak between your thighs and Draco laughed watching you steady yourself. Your cheeks reddened as you felt his eyes on you. You followed him back into the manor and into the kitchen. It was large, with a marble counter and pots that stirred themself and you realised you had never been in the kitchen before. Only ever in the dining hall.

He asked the house elf, who stood as tall as his hip for some fruit, and it was the first time you had seen the elf smile. It seemed odd to you that Draco could make a being you thought to be below him smile. Was he kind to him, unlike how you’d read his father treating them - or was he that scared of your step-brother that he would paint a smile just for him. They exchanged words and the elf magically summoned a glass bowl of fruit.

Draco took the bowl with a polite but casual “thank you” and you realised it was the first time you had heard anyone in the house thank him. The meals you had eaten, the cleaning you had seen him do, neither Narcissa, nor your father had thanked him once.

You half expected Draco to leave you there and disappear, but even after lying with Draco after he had taken your virginity, you weren’t ready to be alone. You followed him up the stairs, dreading him going to his room and you, yours - but when he got to his room and waited for you to follow him in, you sighed quietly to yourself in relief.

You had gone 18 years of your life knowing men weren’t to be relied on and a large part of you wasn’t ready to challenge that, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling In your chest, the longing that you had to be around him, that hope that he longed for you too, and respected you enough show it.

You stood awkwardly in the doorway, as you watched him sit down on his bed. The line between step-brother and something else entirely had blurred beyond comprehension in such a short time, and you had no experience with either one of those.

“Are you going to sit down or just stand there like a git?”.

You laughed awkwardly and sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. The cherries in the bowl looked like something out of the cartoons you watched growing up. Nicer than real food should look, you thought. You picked one up, popping it in your mouth. There had to be magic in these cherries, you were sure of it. You looked up when you realised you hadn’t asked to eat his food, and when you caught Draco gazing longingly at your stained red lips, his eyes darted away. Though you had seen his mask slip in real time, his walls were built back up in a second, his parted lips quickly closing into a tight line. It puzzled you how he could be so sweet and charming in the smallest ways, and so unrelenting in acting like he wasn’t. You supposed he didn’t know any better, or that he must have had some sort of reputation to maintain. He stiffened up beside you, so you decided to drop your train of thought. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to another person having access to your thoughts. They were the only thing that was ever yours. You had both been trapped by, and escaped into your thoughts your entire life, knowing that if you had nothing else, you had that. Now, your mind was taken from you and your body, you had given him.

He pulled you into him, back against his chest, and you had no choice or desire but to comply. You looked up at him, his jaw sharp and angular even from your angle as he looked down at you.

“Open your mouth,” he whispered, and though his voice was gentle, it was no less than a command and you did as he said, meeting his eyes as you did so. His long, slender fingers picked up a cherry and pushed it slowly into your mouth. Your plump lips closed around it, and he pulled it from the stem for you. The juice ran down the corner of your mouth and he caught it with his thumb, licking it off seductively. You were in awe and the anger you had felt toward him, though you hadn’t let it go entirely, lay hidden below layer upon layer of a new feeling. You had never understood, nor cared to understand your friends pining for the men in their lives. It never made sense to you the way they would talk about the little, unimportant things they would do. Though you had felt you were missing out on important milestones in your schooling years, it never appealed to you enough to chase it. A part of you may have even felt you didn’t deserve it - like it was something so out of reach it wasn’t worth longing for. Now, those little things made sense to you. The way his jaw would clench and it would send your stomach fluttering. His hands, oh his hands. You felt embarrassed that you’d notice them, and your imagination forever following close behind, but you didn’t know how to shut it off. How to avoid him peering in.

You let him feed you more cherries, smiling sheepishly as he watched you intently. Finally you spoke up,

“Thank you for the duel. You didn’t have to go so easy on me, but it got my mind off things I guess,”

“I wasn’t going as easy on you as I should have,” he seemed to be pained at his thoughts. His brow furrowed and you watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t..,” he trailed off deep in thought.

You realised how uncomfortable he was that he had thrown you.

“You didn’t hurt me Draco. I wanted to learn and I did.” Though you weren’t always sure of yourself in your magical abilities, you knew youhad learned what you did quickly, and you knew he was doing you a favour in teaching you. He didn’t even want to when Narcissa had suggested it. He frowned at your words and you knew he was holding back an argument.

“You did learn quickly. I’m sure you’ll be ready for school by the time the summer is over.”

You looked up at him, assuming you had misheard him but before you could ask him to repeat himself, he smiled and repeated himself.

“You’ll be ready for school when I’m done with you. You don’t think I’m going to let my Mother marry you into my family if you never attend Hogwarts.”

You couldn’t believe his words. You had barely learned a handful of spells and he was suggesting hogwarts? You hadn’t even thought you were young enough to attend. Before you could ask, he answered your question.

“Hogwarts offers 8th year, higher education. Since I was a prefect before the..before last year, I’ll be completing my studies there after the break. I’ll make sure you are offered the same.” He spoke so matter of factly, you almost missed the generosity of his offer. You had dreamed so often of what your life would have looked like had you been allowed to attend. You had fantasised about it almost every day since you had gotten your letter, and after you were told you would not be allowed to, you had held so much resentment toward your mother for it, and even your father for not sending you anyway. Now, you would potentially have a chance at attending and you couldn’t even begin to comprehend the offer he had so casually given you. All you could manage was a “Thank you”, words completely obliterated by shock and overwhelm.

“Don’t thank me. You should have never been stuck in muggle London. Your parents did you a great disservice, even if you’re a..half blood.” He pushed the word out like it tasted foul on his tongue. It stung like the first time he had called you a mudblood, but you were in too much shock for it to bubble under your skin like it had before. He was right. Though you assumed he was disgusted that a witch had deprived their child of an education rather than care how you felt about it, it was reassuring to hear it from someone else.

“Did you know Narcissa was marrying my father before we moved in?” You asked. Though it must have seemed out of nowhere to him, you had been brewing on the question since you had met him. It seemed to you, that you were always last to know about anything your family did. Though you were both only children, it was obvious that you had very different experiences as such. He was the man of the house and you, an afterthought.

He thought for a moment, studying your face before finally answering.

“Yes. I knew. I knew who you were before you stepped into my home,” he answered coldly and you knew he was referring to your “impure” blood.

You didn’t know how to respond, nodding your head instead.

“I’m guessing I knew they were marrying well before you knew we existed too,” he added and your heart sunk. He was probably right, and him drawing that conclusion so easily didn’t help. Of course he did - you envied what he and his mother had.

“My father was barely in the ground before that was decided,” he spat and you were snapped out of your thoughts at his sudden admission. A rare snippet of his thoughts of his late father, and how he felt about the engagement. He lifted you up like you weighed nothing before you could even think to reply, and tossed you back into his bed, moving you out of his way like a light object. He stood up, moving toward a cabinet gracefully. You watched his large hands wrap around a bottle on the shelf. He pulled the top off with his teeth and took a swig. He hissed out a breath after gulping it down, and offered the bottle to you. You had tried a few drinks in high school, but had never drank anything out of the bottle, so you shook your head no.

“I’m having a friend over tomorrow,” he started. “You better have some then. It’ll get your mind off things,” he offered. You wondered if he was the friend you had heard his mother fussing about. You felt nervous at the thought of meeting them. Would they feel the same way about half bloods, or someone who didn’t go to Hogwarts when them? You decided you would likely avoid it all together and just stay in your room.

You thanked Draco again for the lesson, and left to shower the day off you. As the hot water covered you, your soapy hands roamed your body, reminding you of the way Draco’s had earlier that day. You looked down at your body and noticed small bruises that had already started to form on your hips, and you couldn’t help the blush heat your cheeks. You were horrified in your naive and prudish mind when your friends would brag about bruises and hickeys that boys would leave them with, but realising you had been marked by Draco in such a wanton and animalistic way drove you wild - Like a hint to a secret your body kept with his.

[villainessprefect]

~Tell It to My Heart~

title: Heart Dealer

prompt #11: Scolding them for doing something stupid and unintentionally saying, “why did I have to fall for you”

Ace x gn!reader

Read on AO3

You let out a sigh as you wander away from the cafeteria and into the courtyard. Your eyes wander around the world, hoping to find one of your dearest friends. Ace had left the group during lunch, saying he had business and would be back soon. But the clock was ticking and he had yet to return.

Worry began to sink into your heart. You know that Ace could handle himself, but he had the tendency to get into trouble a little too much. And something told you that this might be the reason why he hadn't come back. So, you made the decision to go and find him.

And it was easier than you thought.

"Ace!" You let out a gasp as you find him with his magic pen out. He stands tall, with full pride and confidence as he looks down at the fallen Savanaclaw student. The grass around them is singed with some blades releasing smoke from the tips. There are patches that have lost their green and are now colored in ashes.

"Y-You'll regret this!" The student growls, baring his teeth. Ace doesn't flinch, wearing his cheeky smile. He watches and laughs as the other forces his body up and runs off with his tail in between his legs. Literally.

"I won't!" Ace shouts as he leaves. "You can bring a whole pack and I'd still win!" He chuckles and puts his pen away. "That was easier than I thought."

"Ace!" You shout his name again. This time, startling him. He jumps and turns to you, eyes going wide.

"Prefect? Why are you here? I said I'd be back in a bit."

"That was twenty minutes ago," you argue.

It doesn't take long for you to put two and two together. You had just missed a fight break out and honestly? You're not surprised. Although, you are surprised that he had gone to tackle this alone. Usually you, Grim, or Deuce had his back whenever he picked a fight, intentionally or not.

"So? It's not that long. I'm done anyway, so we can head back."

He tries to act nonchalant, avoiding the topic if he can. Your eyes settle on him. At first glance, he looks fine. The longer you look the more you notice the smaller things. The burnt cuffs of his uniform, the darker spots on his coat, and the cut barely hidden by his heart mark.

"You're hurt," you mutter as he passes you.

Ace stops and lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes.

"It's no big deal. This isn't going to kill me, ya know?"

You don't argue with him. Instead, you grab a hold of his wrist and begin to drag him out of the courtyard. He protests and whines about being able to walk himself but ultimately lets you take the lead. You hear him huff before falling silent.

He probably isn't at all bothered by his injuries. If anything, you think he would see them as cool battle scars to prove his victory. It's something he would show off to Deuce and hold over his head. But you can't help but be worried for him. Maybe it is something to be proud of. He's strong enough to win a match here, but it's never without a price.

Subconsciously, your grip on him tightens.

"Let me patch you up, okay?"

"Sure, whatever. You know, you care a little too much for me, right?"

You're glad that you're leading the way so he can't catch the blush tinting your cheeks. The last thing you want is him teasing you over that and you being unable to stop him. Especially if it leads to him finding out your crush on him.

Thankfully, for some reason he doesn't poke more fun at you. When you reach the infirmary, you free him from your hold and have him sit on a bed. You're no stranger to injuries and quickly find what you're looking for. A small bandage and disinfectant wipes.

"I can't believe you left us just to get into a fight," you say as you walk back to him.

"It's not like I wanted to fight him," he pouts as he swings a leg. "He just said something that pissed me off. And when I told him to shut it, he challenged me to a fight."

"And you chose to accept it?" You ask while setting the bandage down. "Don't move to much." You order as you gently turn his head to the side to get a better look at the cut. It's hard to see, but it doesn't look too deep.

"Whatever you say, my liege," he mockingly says. "And yeah, I did. And I totally owned him."

He grins until you press the wipe against his skin. The cold touch makes him flinch and shut his eye.

"What did he even say?" You ask more to yourself than to him. Regardless, he answers.

"He was talking crap about you." That causes you to stop. You blink and your fingers rest pressing against his skin, probably dabbing at his wound too hard. Ace doesn't seem to care though. "I know you won't do anything about it, so I did."

Slowly, you remove the wipe from his skin. You toss it to the side as you get the bandage to conceal the wound, gently pressing it against him. Now it would be more noticeable that something happened, but at least you didn't have to worry about it getting infected.

Your eyes rest upon the bandage as your thoughts wander to what he just admitted. He got into a fight for your sake? He didn't have to. But the thought of him protecting you, being your card soldier in shining armor made your heart melt.

"You're an idiot," you breathe with a light laugh. "Why did I have to fall for you?"

"You what?"

Oh no. Did you say that aloud?

You take a step back and your eyes meet with his. You catch his eyes widened before tearing your gaze away. You're not sure how to handle this, how to handle him. You were supposed to have more time and not just blurt this out right now!

"I-I didn't say anything!" Your voice is weak. Your heart drums against your chest. A mixture of panic and fear crawls throughout your body. The last thing you wanted was rejection, or worse, losing him as a friend.

"Nuh-uh." His cheeky grin reappears as if it never left in the first place. He takes your wrist, holding you in place. His grip is firm, but just enough to allow you to escape if you wish. "I totally heard that. And if you wana try and lie, at least sound confident enough to hide it."

You gulp. Yeah, you should have known not to lie to him, but it was the first thing that came to mind. There had to be some excuse you could come up with. Something to get you out of this predicament so you can think of how to save yourself.

Then the bell rings and you think you've never been happier to hear it echo throughout the school. What was it they say? Saved by the bell?

"Lunch is over, we have to go to class!"

"But I'm in so much pain," Ace whines. "You can't just leave an injured student all alone here. Especially one that you fell for."

Oh how you wish you could slap that stupidly cute shit eating grin off his face.

You clench your fist and debate your options. Regardless, you would have to confront him and you know he's not going to leave you alone about this in class. Things might be worse if you don't confront him now. And it's not like he reacted poorly to your accidental confession.

So, maybe there's hope?

You clear your throat and take in a few breaths. "Fine." You face him, feeling your cheeks on fire.

"Good." He smiles and tugs you closer. You're careful not to trip, but remain standing in front of him. "So, wana elaborate?"

You bite down on your lip. "Do I have to? It should be obvious." You wonder if it is. In your eyes, you'd say yes. You worry over him like how you did today. You help him out whether he's in deep trouble or not. You even go along with his schemes just to be beside him a little longer. He knew how to have fun and make you smile with such ease. This honest trickster had complete control over your heart, even now.

"I like you, Ace."

The words leave your lips so naturally, as if they were meant to be spoken.

When you lift your gaze, you find his cheeks red. Maybe not as bright as yours, but it's noticeable.

"Hearing that sounds...nice," he mumbles. His free hand covers his mouth for a moment. It's hard to tell if it's to hide his blush or not. It hardly matters when he pulls his hand away and jumps to his feet. The sudden movement startles you, but he keeps you steady. His hand leaves your wrist only to intertwine yours with his.

"Well, if that's that then, I say we go on a date!" He chirps. "Who needs class when we have something more important to do, right?" The smile he wears makes it hard to say no to. You wouldn't let that be your answer anyway. Ace doesn't give you the option to either since he's already pulling you towards the door with that look in his eye. That glint of determination to fulfill his mission to skip class and do something fun. With you.

[beewolfwrites]

The Oar in the Sand - Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Seventh Day of Nostos

Here, have another chapter! Literally can’t wait for the reunion, but I also couldn’t help myself and decided to add some angst. Because it’s fun, and why not.

Enjoy :)

I honestly just keep forgetting to include these, but the AO3 link is here. 

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There was something beautiful about stepping into the pink and blue dusk of the evening. The sun had almost set, the sky streaked with vibrant pinks, lavenders and greys. There was a screech of metal above, and I looked up at the sleek hotel before me. The King of Hearts blimp billowed in a gust of heat, tilted, and drifted to the ground like a burning star. It collided into one of the neighbouring buildings, the explosion sending a shockwave of hot air blasting through the streets. 

I shielded my face with my forearm as a piece of paper whipped through the air and landed on my shoe. Picking it up, I realised it was a leaflet. The photograph on the cover was almost identical to the glossy skyscraper before me. The only thing absent was the busy influx of pedestrians and traffic outside. 

‘The Tokyo Horizon Hotel.’ 

I flipped it over, looking at the pictures one by one. Everything about the staff seemed artificial to me, from the pristine red blazers to their immaculate hairlines. Despite this, I instantly recognised that glint in her eye, a slyness disguised beneath a professional smile. She was sitting at the very reception desk I had been leaning against just hours before, posing for the camera.   

‘Izanami,’ I whispered, deep in thought. ‘She was the receptionist.’ 

A receptionist turned King. There was something unexpectedly funny about it, probably because it made absolute sense to me. She was the face of the hotel, having encountered every possible type of customer under the sun. She knew the ins and outs of the industry, was privy to the drama that occurred behind closed doors, and even the drama that filtered through the grapevine. Of course she was the King of Hearts; she knew exactly what made people tick.  

And now she was gone. It was a shame. If not for the circumstances, I could have become friends with someone so carefree and easy as she was. 

But I can still remember her. 

I could still carry her memory with me, like a token or a good luck charm. In a way, she had died so that I could live. I just had to make it count somehow. For now though, I needed to find my way back home. 

Back to Chishiya, to Kuina…

And back to my older brother, who was still out there, somewhere, waiting for me. 

I wandered deeper into the city using only the familiarity of the streets to guide me. Thick swathes of tall grass covered the pavements and roads, and it was difficult recognising store fronts through the vines and foliage. Scattered around in the grass, the bodies of players had been reduced to bones, each one a victim of the King of Spades. They were still carrying their weapons, their clothes now rags against their hollow white skeletons. It wasn’t right that a human body should decompose so quickly. It meant that my suspicions had been correct all along; time was altered here. The city was a jungle, and as I waded through the overgrowth, Izanami’s words haunted my mind. 

‘Life isn’t a race, it’s a labyrinth. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up going round and round in circles.’ 

Her dying words were uncanny. In her game, if I had simply carried on guessing answers at random, my points would have hovered around a neutral 25. I would have been trapped forever in that room, going round and round in circles. 

It really was like a labyrinth… 

How many times had I made a similar comparison with the city? Too many to count. It was as if she had read my thoughts, knew the ins and outs of my heart, as strange as it sounded. 

And now as I roamed the streets, deftly avoiding stepping on bony fingers and spines, I realised that Tokyo was opening up, welcoming me back inside its web. Even as the darkness of the evening skulked along the corners and alleyways, I followed my gut instinct, tracing a mental map until I turned onto a smaller side-street, coming to a stop before the small building opposite me.

The furniture store. 

There were no candles lit in the windows. No signs of life. I opened the door and slipped inside, tasting the dank mustiness of the air. It was cold, but everything was as it had been before we left. Our makeshift living room was still in place, the armchairs turned on each other in a circle, a flimsy coffee table between them. 

Inside the small kitchen, I found a can of Kuina’s favourite corn soup in one of the cupboards. And so, lighting a few candles on the windowsill, I prepared the portable stove we had used to fashion meals with so many times. It was on the kitchen surface, a little dusty but still usable. I poured the can of soup into a pan and left it to warm up as I explored upstairs. 

The staircase was dark, and the room upstairs even more so. But even in the darkness, I would have recognised that bed from anywhere. It was still as a photograph, a moment in time captured. The way the covers were thrown back, an indentation in each pillow, mine and Chishiya’s. It was only days ago, but it already felt like a fragment of our history. 

I ran my palm along the bedside table, searching for the one thing I had left behind. 

My ring should be here somewhere.

I wasn’t there. I searched the floors and under the bed, but my ring was nowhere to be seen. I raked my hand along every nook and cranny, feeling for its familiar shape, and only growing more and more frustrated when I couldn’t find it. This couldn’t be happening. It meant too much to me. 

I can’t lose it again!

The only explanation I could think of was that somebody had been here after us and they had taken it. Or, it had rolled away into a corner where I couldn’t see it. As impatient as I was, it was too dark to look properly, and so I begrudgingly resigned myself to waiting. 

I’ll have to look again tomorrow when it’s lighter. But still, my ring… 

Sighing, I headed back downstairs to my simmering corn soup. A warm bowlful later, and I was curled up in my old armchair, trying to fall asleep in the ambient candlelight but unable to shake off the fear that the King of Spades would turn up when I least expected it, and I would become one of those many skeletons.

I tried instead to turn my thoughts toward Chishiya. Finding him was my first priority right now. Now that I was clear-headed, I could understand his perspective a little more. The detachment, the alienation. He had never truly told me about the full extent of his isolation. Only that his parents had ignored him, and he had been mostly raised by the house staff. When he first told me, in the lingering quiet after we explored each other’s bodies, I hadn’t appreciated the full weight of that moment.

And the way he’d fired his pistol at Banda, and sat waiting outside after I’d barricaded myself in one of the cells. Even our conversation in the hospital, his adamance that he wouldn’t take part in a game with me. I had been adamant too. I was willing to play together, even if only one of us survived. 

‘Are you really willing to risk an outcome like that? How selfish?’

Back then, his words had thrown me off. They came across as strange and uncharacteristic, but in actuality, I was just blind.  

I understand now. 

I would feel it too. If Chishiya died in a game, where would that leave me? Wandering around Tokyo alone without a shred of hope. That kind of existence wasn’t worth living for. 

God, he was right. I’m really am that selfish… we both are. 

It was time to change things.  

But right now, my eyes were heavy, so heavy, and it was becoming impossible to keep my mind from slipping away into a velvety slumber. Curled up in my armchair, I watched the light of the candle flames flickering on the wall like shadow puppets, until I fell into a heady, dreamless sleep. 

________________________________________________

My eyes flew open. 

I was still curled in my armchair, my neck stiff. However, the cold room was bathed in darkness.  The candles on the window ledge had blown out, and only faint slant of moonlight filtered through the window, illuminating the armchair across from me. 

A shiver brushed the back of my neck.

Someone’s here. 

I gently unfurled myself, listening carefully for any indication of footsteps or breathing. There was nothing. Everything in the room was exactly where it was supposed to be. It was just the candles. I got up and walked towards the window, inspecting them. The wax around the wick was still warm and liquid. It could only mean they had been blown out recently. 

Raising my head to the window pane, I saw my tired reflection staring back at me. And then I froze. A dark, familiar face grinned from behind me, hovering just over my shoulder. There was a click, and I felt the barrel of a gun press into my back.

‘Don’t even fucking think of moving.’

I should have known Niragi would find me eventually. It was only a matter of time. Although it was actually rather impressive that he was still clinging to the revenge he craved for his burn scars. It was an act of self defence, and most people would have moved on by now. 

He’s not most people, clearly. 

‘You’re the same as ever,’ I said, stifling a yawn. ‘Always trying to show off your guns. It must be tiring.’ 

‘I could say the same thing. Not going to show off that terrible foreigner’s accent?’ 

‘I don’t need to.’ I stuck to my native tongue, looking him straight in the eye through our reflections in the glass. ‘I know you can understand me.’ 

Niragi pulled a face of disinterest, but beneath the facade I could see his curiosity. 

‘Back at the Beach, when you first confronted me about Chishiya’s plans, you seemed to be able to understand me even when I wasn’t speaking in Japanese. It was the same when I was at the bar, right before…’ His mouth quirked in self-satisfaction, and I dropped the sentence altogether. ‘And on the rooftop. You understood everything.’ 

He scoffed, jerking the gun harder against my spine. ‘What, did you think I’m an idiot or something? I went to school, obviously.’

‘You could have fooled me.’ 

It was only a mutter, but Niragi had heard it all the same. Grabbing my shoulder, he dragged me away from the window and forced me to sit in the armchair. I leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. He sat in the chair across from me, the handgun still pointed at my chest. 

‘You clearly have something planned,’ I said. ‘Otherwise I’d be dead by now.’ 

‘Well done, genius. Even though I’d love to put a bullet in your brain, there’s something else I’d like to do. Something more fun.’ 

Niragi looked terrible. There was a strange gleam in his eye, and the charred remains of his hair were an unruly against the scarred rivers running along his skin. Even his clothes were in tatters. It was a wonder, after everything he had done, that he was even still alive. 

‘We’re going to wait here for a while,’ he continued, ‘and then you and I are going to go for a little walk.’ 

I can see where this is going. 

A walk was never just a walk when Niragi was involved. I sighed deeply, knowing that I was at least safe for now. At this point, Niragi was too predictable for his own good. No doubt, he was going to take me to wherever Chishiya was just so he could have the satisfaction of killing one of us in front of the other. But if he led me to Chishiya, I would happily go along with his plan for now. 

Niragi hummed with fascination, the sound breaking through my thoughts. ‘You seem awfully compliant. What happened to the feisty little zebra who clawed at me?’ 

‘You have a gun and I don’t,’ I replied, nodding towards the handgun resting on his knee. ‘And I have no intention of dying just yet. My brother’s waiting for me.’ 

His mouth curling into a jagged smile. ‘Your brother, hm? What makes you think he’s still alive? He could be one of those skeletons out there, you know.’ 

The thought gave me pause for a moment, but I held my ground. I knew better. ‘He’s not dead. He’s in the other world. The real world, I mean.’ 

‘The real world.’ Something flashed in Niragi’s eyes, as if I had touched on his favourite subject. ‘Which world is the real world? You can live freely here. There are none of those man-made laws to hold you back from giving into your human instincts. You can kill or rape as many people as you want, take whatever drugs you what, there’s nobody to stop you. You can die freely too.’ 

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. ‘Well, since you’re here in this place, I’d much rather go back.’ 

Niragi didn’t seem fazed by the mild insult. If anything, there was a smugness about him, as though everything was vaguely funny. ‘You know, I’m surprised you’re here all alone,’ he said. ‘I assumed Chishiya would have come back, but clearly not.’ 

Now that was unexpected. 

‘You’ve seen him?’   

‘Perhaps.’ 

‘And you didn’t kill him.’  

Niragi shrugged. ‘Why would I, when I can kill both of you at once?’ 

I couldn’t hold back a snicker. ‘What, are you going to line us both up and try to do it with one bullet?’ 

His smile disappeared. The gun was against my forehead faster than I could blink. Niragi’s fingers were in my hair, against my scalp, pulling my head back until my face was mere inches from his. I let out an involuntary gasp, but tried to meet his gaze squarely. I couldn’t show him any fear. Not now. 

‘Don’t you fucking dare laugh at me,’ he snarled. I could smell blood on his breath, could feel the cold barrel of the gun against my temple. ‘I could easily kill you right now and spare myself the trouble.’ 

‘I’m sure you could,’ I murmured. ‘But we both know it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying.’ 

He released my head violently, throwing me against the back of the armchair as he sat back down in his own. Through the window, the first streaks of a red dawn had finally appeared across the hazy concrete skyline. 

Niragi was quiet for a few minutes. He checked the bullets in his gun before sliding the mechanism back into place. ‘Get up,’ he ordered. ‘We’re leaving.’ 

I stood and looked over my shoulder at the stairs. Now that dawn was here, I would be able to see everything better. ‘Can I at least go to the bathroom before we go?’ 

He narrowed his eyes. ‘Where is it?’

‘It’s just at the top of the stairs.’ I waved a hand at the staircase. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.’ 

He stood up, gesturing to the stairs with his gun. ‘You’ve got two minutes. If you try anything, I’ll shoot you in the foot and you’ll have to walk on it.’ 

‘Fine. Two minutes is all I need.’ 

I sprung up the stairs and made a beeline for the bed I shared with Chishiya. His familiar scent still lingered on the linen, and it sent a sharp ache running through my chest. I would have given anything to go back to that time. It was turbulent, yes, but there were moments of sanctuary. 

I pushed thought away.  

Don’t get distracted! You don’t have long. 

That’s right. I now had less than two minutes to find this ring. I got to my knees, searching the gap behind the bedside table in case it had rolled off the edge. There was no sign of it. Growing more and more desperate, I pressed my face to the floor as I peered under the bed. No matter how hard I looked, the ring was nowhere to be seen. I was busy checking under the neighbouring bed when in the slant of light beneath the frame, I saw Niragi’s feet appear in the doorway. 

‘Oi! Get out of there before I drag you out.’ 

I crawled out from under the bed. Frustratingly, my ring was still missing. It must have rolled away into a dark corner somewhere in the crannies of the room. I hated being without it, but there really was nothing I could do. 

‘I lost something up here last night,’ I tried to explain myself. ‘While I was here I thought I’d check before we left.’ 

Niragi marched around the bed and grasped the back of my clothes, hauling me towards the doorway. 

‘Move!’ When I was too slow, he jabbed the gun firmly against my spine and pushed me forward. ‘Hurry the fuck up!’ 

Pff, you’re not going to shoot me. Not right now anyway. 

With the gun between my shoulder blades once more, I silently allowed Niragi to lead me down the stairs and out of the store. Dawn had broken, and to my surprise, the overgrown jungle was softened by birdsong. I hadn’t expected to hear birds singing in the middle of Tokyo. Only the flap of pigeons roaming around for scraps of food. But on second thought, nature had taken back the city. The birds had every right to flock here. 

Niragi didn’t tell me where we were heading, and I didn’t dare ask. I knew better than to goad him on further. I would keep walking and walking until Niragi gestured towards a new direction with his gun. It was a mystery to me, how he knew where he was going. I could only imagine that he had spied on Chishiya and worked out where he was staying. 

The sun was high in the sky, reaching a mid morning simmer when faint voices sounded from somewhere nearby. Niragi paused behind me, then pushed me forward in a vague direction. 

‘Keep moving,’ he hissed. 

I felt his breath against the shell of my ear and flinched away. He chuckled lightly at my reaction, but I refused to show him how it affected me. He wouldn’t take my dignity from me. 

Not again. Never again. 

The voices grew increasingly louder, and as we rounded a corner, I began to recognise the structures, the familiar crosswalks. 

Shibuya crossing?

I had visited this place with my brother on the day after we landed in Tokyo. In fact, his friend’s apartment was only a couple of minutes away. It was so different now that it was swamped in foliage. 

There were two figures in the distance, standing between abandoned cars on what would have been the iconic crosswalk. My heart pounded when I saw a shock of white, that familiar hoodie, his blond hair. It was Chishiya. But despite seeing him only a day ago, he looked so different. His face was darker, more mature, and his expression was strange. There was apathy there as usual, but lurking beneath that thin surface, there was something troubled about him. He was talking to Arisu, who appeared to be holding a rifle in both hands. Neither of them had noticed us standing there. 

I opened my mouth to call out to them, only for a hand on my shoulder to shove me back. Niragi pushed in front of me, raising his gun. 

No! 

Everything slowed, blurring into a haze as I launched myself at Niragi, wrapping my arms around him and clawing at his hands in a furious attempt to grab his gun. He buckled under my assault, letting out a guttural growl as he shoved his palm into my face, trying to push me away. I saw my opportunity, sinking my teeth into the dirty skin of his hand. 

‘Fuck! Get off, you rat!’ 

I bit down harder, ignoring the taste of dirt and blood on my tongue. However, Niragi twisted his entire body, throwing me to the ground before storming forward. 

Winded and wheezing, I scrabbled to my feet. ‘Niragi, don’t!’ 

‘Watch me,’ He grinned and pointed the gun once more at the pair. At him. 

Please, don’t!

I moved forward, my eyes on the one person I wanted by my side. I was too far to reach him and push him out of the way, and there was no way I could get to the gun in time. 

But I can still shout… 

‘Chi—’

My voice was silenced by the gunshot that ricochetted across Shibuya. Chishiya’s body twisted, the force of the impact knocking him to the ground. Blood splattered across his chest, tainting the white of his hoodie. 

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The wanderer: pt 2

The station was hardly befitting of the name, with only a small wooden bench, mercifully clean. A thin roof of plastic covered it, and I sat on the bench, watching the analogue clock tick on. It had four arms, and fourteen digits, each with a different symbol.

That meant I truly was in another realm, for even time passed (or was counted) differently here. I sighed. The leviathan's call haunted me, ringing in my ears. When I closed my eyes, I could only see it crash through the sky, another wonder of another world gone.

So I did not close my eyes. I stared at the rusty tracks, studied the clock, picked at my fingernails. Anything to distract myself from how far I was from home. I could have turned around, I supposed, and taken the drain back home, but something told me that it would not lead me back. This did not seem the sort of place to have unchanging ways.

The clock ticked on. Its longest hand depicted something similar to a second, I surmised. Perhaps not exactly, but it was close enough. Every fourteen seconds, the shortest hand moved one space in the opposite direction. Every fourteen ‘reverse minutes', the third hand moved anticlockwise too. But what was the fourth hand for? It seemed to move according to its own will, speeding up and slowing down as it wished.

It was only when the fourth hand struck the topmost number, and a train came chugging into the station, did I realise it marked the locomotive's passage. The train in question glowed like the sun, my yellow sun, not the red giant that hung in the foreign sky. It had vines of gold embedded upon it, wrapping themselves around its steaming smokestack. Doors that could have fetched more than my house slid open, and I cautiously stepped aboard.

If the train's facade was gaudy, its interior was understated, all dark oak and deep brown leather. Padded benches lined the sides of the train, with coffee tables placed at regular intervals. The only metal to be seen was brass. It could have come out of a steampunk novel, I mused, if not for the solid gold exterior.

Had I made a mistake in getting on the train, I could not rectify it, for the doors shut themselves, and the train jerkily began moving. I stumbled and fell into a seat. It was shockingly soft. I sunk into it gratefully, feeling slightly bad for dirtying it as I did.

Turning to watch the scenery pass, I was horrified to realise I was somewhere new entirely. The sky had turned blue once more, and tall grass had sprouted in a swathe of yellow. The sun, now a chunk of amber, seemed to wink at me, as though it had played a trick on me by switching itself so quickly.

But that was not what caught my eye. No, it was the great towers that sprouted at regular intervals. They reminded me of the leaning tower of Pisa, if the tower was made of metal and glowed with heat. It seemed to be a… generator? Or perhaps a pump. Within the metal husk, gears and chambers moved up and down rhythmically, releasing sparks and thick smoke that dissipated quickly.

I could feel the rumbles those generators made, a deep heartbeat that made the chugging of the train place in comparison. This place felt alive, for all that I had yet to see a single living thing. There was a soul to this place, a vitality that had been horribly absent in the dead-land. These generator plains were safe.

I smiled to myself and leaned back, ball in my lap. It was alright to relax here, I decided, and closed my eyes, sliding into a sleeping position, letting myself drift off on the soft, cosy bench.

Exhaustion was a heavy blanket on my shoulders, the endless rattling of the carriage the rocking of my cot. A soft hand ran its fingers through my hair.

Wait, what? I opened my eyes and sat up. Adrenaline pumped through my heart, a sudden jolt. Next to me sat a girl who could have been my carbon copy. She had the same dark brown hair, fair skin, and high cheekbones. But her scleras and irises, contained within almond eyes, were flooded with inky darkness, like twin voids.

“Hello, little one,” Not-me said. “You want to go home, do you not?”

I nodded cautiously. Not-me was the first person I had encountered in these lands, and instinct told me not to trust her. Instinct had been pulling a great deal of its weight today, I thought. “Yes, but it would depend on the price,” I told her. “What is yours?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Not-me replied nonchalantly. “Just give me your little ball, and I'll send you right back.”

Instinctively, I clenched my hands around my ball. It was still safe on my lap. Looking down at it, I realised there was something odd about it. It had a vague aura around it, a certain heft to it that told me it was more than it seemed. “No,” I told her firmly.

Not-me smiled, showing rows of sharp fangs. It was a strained smile, more of a baring of teeth than an actual grin. “Do not be absurd, little Maya. It is but a ball. I can give you more, should you give me that one,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “I could give you a dozen more balls just like it.”

I smiled back. “If it was just a ball, why would you want it so badly? Besides, this one is mine. Mine, you hear me? Not that of some random evil twin.”

Rage, pure fury flashed through her eyes, and Not-me snarled. “Foolish girl. You do not even begin to comprehend what is happening, and you choose to insult me. I will make you regret that choice.”

She snapped her fingers and a wave of darkness descended upon me, whisking me off to yet another world.

Read part 1 here!

[stesierra]

Find the Word tag!

@sm-writes-chaos tagged me! My words are: Star, fall, help, great. I'm going to draw from Stitches and Memories!

I'm going to tag @macabremoons, @dyrewrites, @bluberimufim and @aziz-reads and anyone else who wants to play! Your words are sympathy, cruel, kind and rough.

Star

That night, they had to settle for a pasture for their bed. Antea wrapped herself snugly in her blanket and kept her dress on, but plants still poked in, prodding and scratching at the back of her neck. She struggled not to think about ticks and tall grass and lay staring up at the stars that melted across the sky and breathing in the sappy, green smell of broken grass. She asked the night sky, with all its beautiful constellations of the gods, "Jedan? With the bandit..."

"Yes?" His voice was guarded.

"Can you light up like that anytime?"

A long pause followed. "That's a really minor perk of being favored, yes."

"Give me some light. I want to read my book."

Something rustled, then warm golden light washed over her, illuminating every blade of grass and creeping insect that surrounded her. Jedan was sitting up in his own hollow in the grass, holding his glowing hand towards the sky. For a brief moment, every visible inch of his skin glowed as if he had turned into a firefly, and Antea caught her breath. The glow dimmed back down to his hand, and he said, "I'm not going to do this all night."

Antea grinned at him, her heart warm with wonder. "Just a few pages." And she stretched out of her blanket to dig out the book. It was nestled at the bottom of her bag, and despite the cool night, the cover felt warm under her hands. She skipped the first page because she'd already had that flashback, and opened it to the middle.

Another drawing of a dragon stared up at her, crouched ferret-like in the center of the page. It was a disdainful stare, the kind cats inflict on people who offend them. Below the elegant black drawing, someone had scrawled a few messy lines.

"What does it say?" Jedan asked.

She leaned in and read, "Climb the Demon's Tower, and at the top, you will find a dragon. The dragon will ask you questions. Not riddles, for dragons see no truth in riddles, but there will be questions."

"Huh," he said, resting the arm with the light on top of one knee. "I thought all mythological creatures went in for riddles."

"That's only sphinxes, I think. But I don't have a book on sphinxes."

"How did you end up with a book about dragons in the first place?"

She shut the book carefully and cradled it against her chest. "It's strange. But I think it found me."

His brows lifted. "It's an inanimate object."

"Yeah, but it's a weird object. I found it in the room where the librarians keep all the outdated stuff. It was in the magic section, but it wasn't even about magic. When I showed it to the head librarian, he acted like he'd never heard of it and then he gave it to me because he didn't want it!"

"That doesn't mean it picked you as its owner."

She hugged the book tighter until the corners bit into her arms. "I never said it did! Never mind about the light. I'm going to sleep." And she lay back down and wrapped her blanket around herself so tightly that a tick wouldn't even have room to come in.

"Antea," Jedan said. But he didn't say anything else, so she ignored him. She fell asleep with the spine of the book pressing into her chest.

Fall

Jedan stepped closer, his face very solemn. "It seems if you are being unjustly hunted that you would benefit from companions. Why not tell us what has happened and let us make our own decision whether to stay with you?"

Reza stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. "You're one of the favored."

He bowed to her, as graceful as if he were from some noble court. "The Lion Goddess."

Her eyes narrowed, and she drummed her fingers against her leg. "Then justice is your thing, and you have the goddess's ear. Look, if I tell you what has happened, will you talk to her? Convince her to do something?"

He spread empty hands. "I can pray."

"Well, none of mine have been answered, so I might as well try yours." Reza huffed and brushed the hair out of her face, then plopped down in the hay next to her stick and gestured for them to join her.

The hay was fresh and soft and dry, with a dusty, grassy scent that poofed up when Antea sank into a deep pile herself. Antea said, once everyone was settled, "So tell us your story."

Reza's hands clenched into fists. She bit out, "I'm a royal bastard."

Well, that would explain the dress.

Jedan's eyebrows flew up, and he sat up in the hay to stare at her. "I didn't know the king had any."

Reza laughed bitterly. "Neither did he. My mother didn't let him know when I was born because she had just gotten engaged to a nobleman who didn't care that she was already pregnant with another man's baby, and she really wanted the match to work. She loved my stepfather. Not the king. Never the king."

"Kings aren't particularly lovable, from what I've heard," Jedan said.

Reza nodded and drew her knees up to her chest. "So we lived seventeen years like that, and then my stepfather died. We ran out of money, and Mother's never worked a day in her life. She decided the king should give her money because of all the years she'd spent raising me, so she left me at home and went to corner him at the castle." Her mouth twisted and her eyes screwed up, and she let her chin fall to her knees.

"What happened?" Jedan asked softly.

"She never came back. The constables busted down the door to our house and tried to kill me."

Help

A man screamed, and Antea risked a look over her shoulder. The stranger was holding a bloody sword, standing over one of the bandits, who had fallen face-first, blood spreading in a puddle from around his neck. The second bandit ran at their unexpected ally and stabbed him in the gut, but the sword glanced off. The stranger, like the bandit, was wearing armor, and his counterattack took the bandit's head clean off.

Antea squeaked and covered her eyes, but she stopped running, and the footsteps of her companions shuffled to a stop. She peeked out between her fingers and found that the stranger was still there, leaning over one of the bodies, the one that still had its head. He wiped his blade clean on the clothes of the corpse and shoved it back in its sheath, and then he rolled the body over and rifled it.

"Thank you!" Antea called, taking a few unsteady steps forward. "The gods bless you, sir!"

The stranger grunted, and then he froze, staring down at the corpse, his broad hands gone tight on the stranger's belt-purse.

Jedan bowed in gratitude, and when he straightened his golden eyes were shining. "We are ill-equipped to deal with bandits, so your rescue is greatly appreciated."

The man rose slowly from the body without taking anything from it, wiping clean hands against his thighs. He said curtly, "They're not bandits. They're constables."

Antea clutched her chest and stumbled back, the breath catching in her throat. That was impossible. These were just bandits, and they weren't in uniform, just like the others, except they had all looked exactly the same.

Reza swayed where she stood, too, but there was nothing soft or unsure in her voice when she snapped, "I told you. I told you they would kill you, too, for being stupid enough to walk beside me."

Antea found her voice and waved her arms. "No, you have to be wrong because none of this makes sense. We were being attacked by these people before we even met you."

Jedan stood like a statue at Antea's side, but he turned his head to meet her eyes. "That's true, but why?"

The stranger stormed towards them, seeming taller and taller with every foot of ground he crossed. "You!"

He was a handsome man in his forties, with an aquiline nose and heavy brows that were deeply furrowed, casting shadows over his piercing eyes. His muscular body was tense as if the wrong move would drive him to hack them all to pieces, and Antea couldn't think of what the right move was. She didn't want to be beheaded for something she didn't even understand.

Antea took a step back as he joined them, barely restraining herself from running all the way back to the soldiers' post alone. "Yes? You saved us. You're currently my favorite person."

The man loomed over them with a reddened face, his nostrils flaring, his hand clenched tight around the hilt of his sword. "I was a constable, and now you have forced me to kill my brothers! Which of you is the criminal they are hunting?"

Indignation startled Antea out of her fear, and she swept an arm towards the dead men. "Forced you? You chose to help! None of us even asked you!"

Jedan stepped in front of her. "None of us are criminals, sir. I am favored by the Lion Goddess, and if any of us were an unjust person, I would feel it in my heart."

The man narrowed his eyes and pushed into Jedan's personal space to point a sharp finger in his face. "Perhaps you're the criminal. I'm sure the favored can go bad. Anyone can."

Jedan didn't flinch or back away, and he sounded genuinely curious when he asked, "Have you ever heard of it happening?"

The stranger glowered and let his finger drop, but he stayed too close to Jedan, close enough to reach out and grab him by the throat, and thus too close to Antea. "No, but that doesn't mean anything. I told you, everyone can go bad."

Daring the stranger's wrath, Antea inched up around Jedan's shoulder, her hands squeezing his arm for comfort. "If that's true, then why don't you take a closer look at these constables here? They were going around out of uniform, attacking innocent travelers on the road, travelers who can't even defend themselves. If anyone's gone bad, it's them."

Great

Jedan led them on a winding path through the hills. Antea couldn't resist reaching out to brush her fingertips over the boulders and short cliff faces that they passed. The rock dragged roughly against her skin, and up close it sparkled gaily in the sun, flecked with thousands of specks of mica. Here and there, pines grew on the rocky hillsides, wedged in cracks that seemed unable to support them, their roots trailing down like vines. Sprays of tiny purple and red flowers grew out of smaller crevices in the rock, accompanied by delicate ferns the size of Antea's littlest finger. Their path wound towards the largest, steepest hill at the center of everything, which had a full-sized cliff on one side. And there, carved into the heart of the cliff, were the stairs. The steps were each twelve feet tall at least, their sides perfectly vertical. They marched back into the hillside, and at the top, cut deep into the marrow of the hill, was the gaping black mouth of a cave.

Reza came to an abrupt stop and gaped, letting her skirts drop to the dirt. "This is what you were looking for? A creepy giant stair? Who made that?"

"Someone a long time ago," Jedan said. "I can't sense the makers. They're dead."

Antea stood before the bottom of the stairs and stared upward, trying desperately not to remember anything. She did remember dropping down them -- and nearly dying in the process -- after she'd woken up alone. For once her brain didn't beat her to death with the information.

She turned back towards Jedan. "Do we have to go in? Can't you just read where he went from here?"

"If he had written it in a small cottage, and I stood outside, then yes, but this cave system of yours is too large."

"Well, how are we going to get up them?" Reza asked, her face screwed up in a frown. "Unless one of you can fly."

Vilsel strode the rest of the way to the stair and ran a hand over the rock. "We don't need to fly, Your Highness. The steps are roughed out, not smooth."

"Well, I didn't say an expert craftsman made them," Antea said, following after him reluctantly. Up close, the bottom step towered above her head, far beyond what she could dream of reaching even standing on tip-toe.

Vilsel grinned sharply and tapped the stone riser. "This rock's full of finger and footholds. I can climb this, no problem."

Antea eyed it again, searching for the way up that Vilsel had described and finding nothing. "Really? It looks like a big wall of stone to me."

"See these edges? And the pockets here?"

She stepped away, her stomach lurching at the thought of resting her whole weight on tiny irregularities in the rock. "You do what you do. At least the fall isn't far enough to kill you."

Jedan coughed. "Like the constable who fell off his horse?"

She winced. "Well..."

"I'll be fine," Vilsel said, and he slung his haversack securely across his shoulders and wedged a foot in a crack Antea hadn't even noticed. She watched, jaw open, as he scaled the wall like a spider, clinging to the littlest of ledges. In less than a minute, he was at the top and digging through his haversack.

Jedan tilted his head, his expression more curious than surprised. "You rock-climb, don't you?"

Vilsel smirked down at him as he pulled a long length of rope out of his bag and laid it, coiled like a snake, on the step beside him. "Everyone needs a hobby."

"You mean you come to hills like this just to climb up and down things?" Antea asked. "Why bother?"

"I climb mostly in the mountains near Drazen. Why? Because it's challenging, and it's fun. I don't need any other reason." He pulled an odd metal stake and, of all things, a hammer, out of his haversack.

"What's that for?"

"It's a piton, to secure the rope. Shut up." And he drove the stake into a crack in the stone with great clanging strikes of his hammer. A minute later, he tied a handful of fat knots in the rope and threw it off the ledge, sending it slithering down the side of the step. "Reza, take those rings off. You can't climb with them. Antea, you go first. Just grab on, and climb from knot to knot."

"All right," she said. "I'll try not to have convulsions halfway up."

Tag list for everything

@anonymousfoz

@moremysteriesthantragedies

@elizababie

@sm-writes-chaos

@bellascarousel

@palebdot

@macabremoons

@the-dragon-chronicler

@teacupsandstarlight

@vorskra

@wrenofthewords

@amostdelectablescribbler

@savvy-minnow

@mysticstarlightduck

@phantommill

@gracewritesbooks

@aziz-reads

@owlsandwich

@symbioticsimplicity

@squarebracket-trick

@fishythewriter

@koala2all

@rmgrey-author

@atomatowriter

Just chapters and snippets

@da-na-hae

For Stitches and Memories

@space-writes

@acertainmoshke

[gourdlily]

hi ok hear me out. new design/story challenge.

Step one:

Find four to five clan generators on perchance (or you can use clangen’s randomizer if you don’t want to do designs).

Step two:

Using the first generator, generate your clan’s name and any other details the generator has aside from connected characters.

Step three:

Using the other three or four generators, pick five of the list of cats you get from them and add them to the clan you generated in the previous step. You can use any method to pick them, it doesn’t have to be random so long as they’re randomly generated. This will get you 15-20 cats to mess with, and you can change their roles and ages to better suit whatever idea you have in mind for them.

Step four:

Design a story and/or look for the cats you picked. This can happen however you want it to, at this point you get 100% free reign over the challenge!

*Note: for cats outside the clan, add an extra clan or cat generator and pick any number of cats given between 1 and 5!

By the end, you should have an interesting group of characters with varied descriptions or even similar descriptions if you picked them meticulously! Here is my attempt under the cut:

Generator 1: Detailed Clan Generator by Raggedflight

Name: Harryclan

Territory: A large island covered in grassy hills with a river that runs through it, far from any other group.

Camp: Surrounded by tall grass and wheat, which makes up their dens. There is a large herb patch in the grass.

Landmarks: Abandoned Quarry (A huge, abandoned quarry filled with water. it is excellent for hunting and herb gathering.), The Blackbird Tree (An ancient cottonwood tree where many blackbirds live.), The Fallen Birch (An ancient birch that is entirely hollowed out, where many lapwings live.), and Tall Hickories (A large grove of very tall hickory trees that twolegs planted, where many smaller rodents and some foxes live.)

Common herbs: Borage, Dock, Lavender, Marigold

Rare herbs: Burdock root, Rosemary, Coltsfoot

Climate: Cool and rainy in newleaf, hot and sunny in greenleaf, warm and rainy in leaf-fall, and freezing in leaf-bare.

Ancestor meeting place: The Moonpool (A small pool surrounded by boulders, with a small river running into it)

Clan call: “Let all cats in Harryclan gather beneath the tallpile!”

Special traits: Good night vision, and can fall from heights with little injury

Notes from the rest of the info: A clan leader was recently struck down for disobeying the code, and there was a pair of old unsolved murders before that. The murders were of a leader and a warrior; the leader happened before the war and the warrior after.

Generator 2: The clan generator we’re all used to

Ravenpaw, Rookpaw, Thriftstar, Beefoot, Waxtail

Generator 3: A pretty one with neat names that provides a little depth.

Antflower— beige and creamy-white molly with odd slightly darker-colored spotting. Educated and compassionate, keeps her den clean.

Patchpoppy— Tawny sphynx tom. Balanced and quiet.

Furledbrook— Warm brown cat with a jagged scar across their face. Disciplined and critical, the healers like them.

Twistblossom— Creamy white ticked tabby tom. Irresponsible and cheerful, wants to help everyone.

Sniffpaw— flea-ridden, creamish-orange cat with half-lidded gray and hazel eyes, a burn scar on their throat and a very short plumy tail. Wants to be named Sniffleaves; talented and easily annoyed, loves to decorate the camp with seashells.

Generator 4: A generator that provides kits and cat ages. Note: the leader it generated’s warrior name was fishfish and i love them for that.

Goldeyes: Aggressive, dull, swift tabby blue-grey tom, with a blue muzzle, and light green eyes. 59 moons old.

Thundersky: Stubborn, irritable swift grey molly with a blue-grey paw, and kind orange eyes. 56 moons.

Brokenbreeze: Caring, lean white she-cat with dull blue eyes. 39 moons old.

Larkkit (dust): Nice, affectionate, and diligent lean orange molly with green eyes. 5 moons.

Snowkit (flame): Brave, caring, and malicious small gold tom with kind blue eyes. 2 moons.

Generator 5: another with cool names, and also options for what generates!

Sparrowwish: Spotted golden molly.

Minnowthistle: greenish-brown tabby jack.

Morningwing: Black-and-white tom with a crooked jaw.

Risingstripe: Solid grey molly with pretty hazel eyes.

Downswan: yellow molly.

MY INTERPRETATION OF THIS:

Our main character, Patchpoppy, is a former kittypet once named Patches who was brought to the island by twolegs exploring, and ran off thinking they would look for him. They did, but he didn’t know that because he was never found. He wears a tattered shirt that helps him insulate and keep from getting melanomas, as he is a sphynx. He is trying to figure out who killed the leader and deputy before Poppystar, Thriftstar’s predecessor who was struck down for encouraging kits to fight and train before their 6th moon. He’s already asked Thriftstar many times about the incidents he keeps hearing about from the elder Risingstripe and her recently retired mate Downswan. His best friend is Morningwing, and multiple cats in the clan make fun of him for his lack of noticeable fur and his dirty green sweater, though Morningwing says it looks nice on him.

Thriftstar is always shutting down questions about Poppystar and whether or not she was the murderer, usually saying something like Poppystar could not have killed the leader before her, Muckstar, or his deputy Rootslash, as the events happened while she was on a moon-trip to the quarry for resource gathering. And no, it wasn’t the foxes they were at war with at the time, either, because the bodies held the scent of cat.

Patchpoppy eventually finds something important at the old crime scene, which has been abandoned for a few years because the cats are afraid to go to the spot they found both leader and deputy violently dead at. It’s an old, worn collar, something the cats of the clan shrugged off because it didn’t register as something other than a scrap of cloth to them. Patchpoppy used to have one, though, so he immediately recognized it, and brought it to the camp, declaring that there must be a murderer somewhere on the island who would have had the collar as theirs.

The cats all brush off his theory, as no one has seen a kittypet other than him in moons…

… Downswan and Risingstripe seem wary, however. Maybe they know something?

Character notes:

Ravenpaw is Morningjaw’s apprentice and why morning is not as present in the story as the best friend usually would be.

Rookpaw is Thundersky’s apprentice.

Sniffpaw is almost a warrior and is Sparrowwish’s apprentice.

Antflower is their healer/religious leader, Thriftstar is the anxious leader that Poppystar manipulated into being her little puppet, and Brokenbreeze is the deputy.

Minnowthistle, Downswan, and Risingstripe are all dating and retired.

Goldeyes wants Larkkit to be his apprentice.

Furledbrook got their scar in a fight with a fox.

Snowkit is not really malicious in a grown way, more like he just constantly plots to annoy and pester the warriors because he thinks it’s funny.

Beefoot and Waxtail are mates and the token straight couple. Larkkit is their kit.

Snowkit is Waxtail’s younger half-brother (They are Thriftstars’s kits, and his partner died recently of an illness) so the nursery is a little awkward right now because Snowkit is growing up with a niece older than him.

the remaining family trees are ambiguous rn because i dont wanna think about making an isolated clan on an island work

Thriftstar’s mother was a LaPerm that left him with the clan.

[happilychaengs]

Dreamscape

a/n: HAHAHAHA idk whatt his is. sosososo confsing. my head HURTS but ok! writers blockk so i forcedd mysefl to writte this earlir. im sorryy if its no bueno o no entiendes ;|

word count: 1,179

son chaeyoung x gender neutral reader

tw: she's dead. alluding to suicide at the end. please don't read if you're uncomfortable about this topic

ANGST

You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of you. You had been staring at it for hours, but for the life of you, you couldn't focus. You were stuck in an endless cycle of monotony, the dull moment getting even duller by the second. You start to notice the clutter beginning to build on your desk. The stacks of unfinished papers, the empty pens you start to forget to throw out, and the tangled electrical cords that are seemingly unchangeable now.

You glazed over at the clock on the wall, watching the minutes tick by as the phone on your desk blared. You picked up, your voice lacking any expression. It was your boss calling. She asks a simple check up on your progress though it's all but simple. You lie and say it's going great. You hang up. Did you leave your stove on today?

You get lost in your thoughts as lunch break rolls around but you don't have the energy to get up. Your stomach rumbles but your eyes continue to stare blankly at your screen. Laughter rings out from the lunch area and it almost feels like you're missing out but then again you didn't have the energy to care. The hours start to pass by, you not getting a single word down. Not a single key pressed. Not a single spreadsheet finished.

Your boss threatens to fire you but her words are lost in transition. It's all nothing but a blur to you. Soon enough, you're walking out of the building with nothing but a box of random contents in your hands as you get in your car and drive down the same street you take everyday.

You park in the same spot you always do and walked in your apartment, the same routine seeming to follow suit. Looking out the window, you see nothing but a plain and simple darkness that sets the tone for the night.

You set the box down at the foot of your bed and walk into the bathroom, staring at the reflection of yourself. You slant your head and squint your eyes as you notice all the things about yourself you didn't seem to before. Was your hair always so unkempt? Were your the bags under your eyes always so dark? Were your eyes always so red and swollen?

Quickly averting your gaze, you pace back into your bedroom and lay down, staring at the bottle of pills on your bed side table. You pour a few into your palm as you tossed them into your mouth.

Quickly gulping down the medication, you laid your head to rest as you stared up at the white ceiling. It doesn't take long for it to kick into effect as you feel your eyelids droop and the world blurring around you.

Today your dreams offer you a change in scenery. A peaceful oasis in the midst of the bustling concrete jungle. Winding paths passed through the lush green grass, provided shade by the tall trees above. The sweet scent of flowers blooming in the spring covered the land as the chirps of bird played all around.

In the center was a pond, the water sparkling in the sunlight. Families of ducks paddled through as parents and children alike sat on the shore, throwing small pieces of bread in.

Off to one side stood a bench, nestled among the trees, covered by the branches. It was worn and weathered, smoothed over by the countless of visitors but still sturdy all the same. As you sat down, you couldn't help but feel a sense of piece and serenity while you stared outwards at the scene playing out in front of you.

Though a familiar scent soon floated around you, the fruity and tropical smells invading your senses. A girl sits down beside you and your head turns slightly as your mouth parts open, "I missed you."

You don't get a clear view of her face, only the silhouette of her nose and lips seen as her long blonde hair gets in the way and cascades down her shoulders. "Do you remember this?"

It's not long before you know what she's implying, a weak and pensive smile on your lips. "It's where we first met and it's where I kept trying to court you until you became my girlfriend. I'm surprised it worked."

Her posture is prim and proper with her hands on her laps, her back straight as you see her nod. "And what else?"

"And... it's... where you died."

You can hear her laugh softly as if you just told her a funny joke, "Do you remember how I look?"

A frown appears on your face as you feel the guilt over the years all pile up on you, you shaking your head, "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay." Her tone is still soft, still being able to bring comfort to you. You don't say a lot to her after. Only a few tidbits of what's been going on in your life since as she sits there listening.

You start to wallow in silence as the both of you continue to stare out at the pond. Now the moon was atop the sky, reflecting across the pond and casting a pale glow over the park, the leaves gently rustling in the wind.

"I do miss you." She blurts out, "I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier."

And although nothing in her tone implies it, this moment between you two feels fleeting. Like it'll disappear at a moment's notice. All in the snap of a finger. She grabs ahold of your hand and you feel nothing but a cold grasp that shakes you to the bone, the world in your eyes fading before you.

You jolt awake from your bed, feeling like you've been dragged out from paradise. Like the floor has been pulled out from under you. You look outside the window again and the darkness has subsided, allowing the light to come in.

The thought of preparing for work crosses your mind but the box at the foot of your bed serves as a quick reminder that it would be a fruitless endeavor.

Still, your day is nothing shy of eventful as you lay in your bed, the dreamscape from the night before quickly invading your mind again. The line separating your two realities begins to blur as your mind lingers on the sight of her and how you felt now. Was the life you're living really better than her? Better than how she made you felt?

You eyed the bottle of pills on the table beside you. You wanted to dream forever and they offered it. You quickly fumbled with the bottle and poured out the rest of the contents into your palm, some falling to the floor while your hands started to shake as they approached your mouth. You paused at the last second as you glossed it over, the unexpected sight of her face flashing in your mind. You remembered.

Dreamscape it is.

[amrv-5]

wow had the first genuine like nightmare I can remember in literal years full wake up in a cold sweat style… extremely vivid, tense, narratively cohesive… dream journalling real fast

basically had been for reasons that were clearly unjust and wouldn’t have held up legally (some sort of ‘speech violation’ in private conversation) been sentenced to death, which wasn’t so bad except the slow leadup to the scheduled execution was sooo tense and horribly inevitable-feeling. Totally inescapable… no assistance legally as I tried to bargain and reason for a stay of execution, a retrial, an appeal, etc. but no use. I was given headphones and a phone in the last hour so I could listen to One Last Song (?), apparently picked CSNY’s Suite: Judy Blue Eyes, and then was led to the execution chamber and left alone with the music (total dread, ticking clock, any moment cld be the last).

At which point the ? power went out? and I considered trying to get hold of a lawyer to stay the execution but then thought it was too risky and too close a call. but with the power unlocked the electric locks (?) were down. choice: stay and bank on legal help when down to the wire? or run? …run. I walked out of a bunch of unlocked doors (vividly remember the confusion + relief + feeling of irreversibility as looked at the sidewalk just outside the door. damp w rain… humid, spring day) and started booking it on foot down the highway. jailbreak!

but then I was on the run and hiding in my old hometown neighborhood… sprinting towards the flood control, trying to decide if it was better to ditch the phone to prevent being tracked or to take a risk and call somebody for help… hid in the tall grass on the banks of the flood control under the overpass and called somebody w very terse request for help (address, change of clothes, scissors). Waited there just sort of enjoying the grass + sky + more vividly recalled CSNY tunes (everybody i love youuu etc) until the car pulled up, and I ditched the phone, ran to get in, changed into civilian clothes, cut my hair (too distinctive), endeavored to burn the hair + prison uniform and find somewhere to dispose of the ashes + determined I needed to withdraw my entire bank balance before the accounts froze + exchange the bills by breaking them thru small legitimate cash purchases so the bill #s couldn’t be traced, and then Woke Up stressed and horribly anxious (?)

Which all on paper sounds like mostly a sort of thriller plot and also a successful jailbreak story but really cannot explain HOW intense and horrible the feeling of dread + helplessness in the face of state murder + inescapability and then terror of being caught was… the fraught choice to make a run for it… realization of what it would mean to be pursued / on the run for the rest of my life… the paranoiac planning for evading detection (only calls, no texts, ditchijg the phone; the choice to alter appearance immediately and separate myself from visual/chemical modes of identification; attention to the traceability of currency and best ways to evade, etc.). Weird!!!!!

Nooo clue where to even start w interpreting (nightmare (or at least remembered nightmare) for the first time in years feels significant…? don’t put much stock in the Meaning of Dreams but that level of intense experience w no clear real life antecedent seems important somehow) other than I have been watching maybe too many 1970s political paranoia thrillers lately. intrigued by the anxiety centered on the traceable / identifiable… think the CSNY revue was just transparently cause my subconscious really likes CSNY. weirdly reassuring (?) now in reflection to have such a strong drive to live narrative w such intense emotions come from wherever dreams come from even if it was not very good for relaxing + getting good rest. what’s the jail/execution… what’s the authority exercising power against liberty in my life… why all the running (though running’s a common theme in my dreams it’s never really been away from something… always towards or just aimless)… odd. will think on it over coffee (hence dream journalling). 4am still mostly asleep going back to bed hopefully 🏃➡️🛏️💤

[proton-wobbler]

Round 2, Poll 4

Dusky Seaside Sparrow vs Yellow-billed Magpie

sources under cut

Dusky Seaside Sparrow

"extinct; RIP little guy :(" - declared officially extinct in December 1990

A subspecies of the Seaside Sparrow, this specific type was found in saltmarshes of Florida's Atlantic Coast on Merritt Island and the upper St. Johns River.

The main cause for extinction is likely linked to mosquito control measures: DDT use, the creature of "mosquito impoundments" that destroyed saltmarsh habitat, and finally the flooding of the marshes on Merritt Island after the Kennedy Space Center was built. Another huge blow was when the marshes were drained to facilitate highway construction.

As a species, Seaside Sparrows are incredible habitat specialists that remain in saltmarshes and brackish marshes their entire life. They nest in the tall grass of riverbanks, creating an orb-shaped nests just high enough from the water to keep from flooding daily. Once the chicks have fledged and been cared for by their parents, they will often form small flocks in order to forage together.

Yellow-billed Magpie

"Growing up, magpies were just another bird. Pretty, but loud and kind of annoying. Just this year (in my 30s!), I learned that the Yellow-billed Magpie only lives in the central valley and on the central coast of California. These birds were so common that I had no idea they only lived here. Very few people in my region seem to know that either so I've been spreading the knowledge."

They've got quite a varied diet, as most corvids do. Insects and scavenged carcasses make up a chunk of their food, but these magpie will also eat acorns, nuts, fruit and grains. They have been seen flipping over dried cow manure to pick at the insects living underneath, and will sometimes pluck ticks off of deer and horses.

Yellow-billed magpie will nest in loose colonies, and prefer to place their nests in clumps of mistletoe. They're at risk of losing a lot of habitat as the Central Valley becomes more and more developed, which lands this species on IUCN's Vulnerable list.