#not just water drops! but vertical drips of water like it was actually running off her face since she's laying down

[robo-dino-puppy]

horizon zero dawn (remastered) | aloy 44/?

[lluvguts]

Cool Blue ; Chapter Two

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

sunlight on your face

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

☽ warnings: none

☽ fic masterlist

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

The sun had crossed Luca's mind many times before, but he was just too afraid to see what it looked like. He'd asked his grandmother what the sun felt like once (or twice, or three times even, Luca had lost count). She would only give her grandson a gentle smile and stick out one hand so Luca's tail would brush along her forearm affectionately.

"That is something for you to find out one day," She winked. "But I'll tell you a little bit about it for now. Sometimes the sun is brilliant and warm on your scales...and other times, it'll burn you." She ended her sentence with another toothy grin and one hand to her breastbone to quiet her knowing laughter.

Luca gaped at her solemnity. "The sun...burns?" He couldn't possibly fathom the idea.

But the sun was so...bright! He imagined it was a big creamy ball in the sky, full of sugar the seeped into the Earth. And the more he mulled it over the harder it was to accept that maybe it wasn't as delightful as he'd dreamed.

"Sure, Bubble," His grandmother chuckled. "It's gotta keep the humans warm somehow, right?"

Luca thought about her answer then. That must be why Alberto smelled so honey-sweet. Nice, he corrected himself. Alberto smelled nice.

But it was the sun dripping all of that sunshine and ardor into Alberto's pores, through the tiny dark spots that spanned across his cheeks and shoulders. Little dashes of the sun. But if he thought over these things too long that fiery sunshine would melt his insides into a pitiful pool of need to see him again and Luca decided not to ask her anymore.

He was a good kid, after all. He didn't need these infectious ideas running through his head.

Luca passed by the herd of goatfish, all grumbling and surrounded in swarms of their own bubbles. He swam by Giuseppe, clearly the favored one, and gave him an endearing pat before glancing over his shoulder. It seemed as though his grandmother had distracted Luca's parents for the time being with some obscure task that he knew granted him a few hours of precious alone time.

He'd dreamed of seeing The Surface before. Herring, he'd actually tried. And once was all it took. A brief sequence of minutes that felt as if they were hours, fluttering toward the crystal glittering skin of the ocean above him, only to doubt his choices and duck back down. But the edges of his mind persisted, Luca the Curious Fish, the one to get caught.

And his mind continued to nag and nudge him toward the parts of the farm that were cooler, left a bite on his scales as he hurried to find that same spot as yesterday. His surroundings flooded again as he was flanked by the jutting sections of the island below the water and into a cave opening leading to the same pool as before.

Luca's eyes fluttered shut past this point. Though it was childish, he feared by whim that a chunk of ominous island rock were to come undone and shatter on top of him, leaving him squished flat in the sand like some scaly water anole scattering for purchase. Luca let the thought, much like his other more intrusive ones leave his head as the temperature lifted around him. His face welcomed the sunlight drifting from the pool above along his fins and closed eyelids.

In a recess of the rock Luca had hidden the purple wooden stick (with the feather-soft bristles that, once Alberto had left, Luca ran along his cheeks until his scales were an embarrassing blue) that Alberto had so kindly gifted him, wedged between the sharp spaces so it didn't float away. He smiled at it sitting there, patiently waiting like he'd been, for a slice of attention.

"Hello again," Luca murmured in greeting to the paintbrush, tracing one finger along the smooth edge of painted wood.

The beams of light flickered along his teal scales, making the darkness of the pool shine pleasantly. But a flash of color even brighter than the sun passed across Luca's dorsal fin so harshly that he yelped aloud in the water and shrunk back from the odd thing. Was it lightning? Another thing Signora Paguro had cautioned him over, something painted quite scary from her perspective in his mind.

But the sun was there, so surely it wasn't lightning.

But even still the flashes appeared once, and then again, with a subdued pop from being underwater.

Wiping the back of his neck, as if the action were to rid him of the itchy feeling the blinding flashes sent along his scales, Luca looked up.

There was Alberto, his silhouette distorted along the water, gripping something bulky in his arms that appeared to be the object of Luca's discomfort.

/ / /

"W-Woah! Hey! What are you doing?"

Alberto leapt back from the mouth of the pool but the boy had swiped for Massimo's polaroid camera. He clawed for it in Alberto's quavering hands, while Alberto was still stunned by the fact that the creature had actually jumped up from the water and attacked him.

Well, he attacked the camera.

He tried to attack the camera.

"What is that thing?" The boy growled, his brows pulled low and angry while it seemed like above water the color of his eyes dimmed to a dark yellow. But still as striking. He had managed to knock Alberto down to the rocky ground where he felt the film in his back pocket crush under the combined weight. Oh hell. That was his last cartridge.

"It's--It's my father's camera! So you can't have it!" Alberto choked out.

"Why does it hurt like the sun?" The boy questioned, his grabbing motion and bared teeth bringing to mind a raccoon. Alberto tried to peel the creature's body from him but it was no use, he had Alberto's legs pinned with his tail.

"What are you talking about?" Alberto shimmed under the boy's weight, taking in a generous amount of air so he didn't gape at his assortment of teal and blue scales inches from his heaving chest, dripping salt water and something slimy. "I was just taking pictures for reference."

"Pictures?" The boy cocked his head, losing some of his fire. Alberto offered a shaky smile, using one hand to press into the ground to wiggle free. The creature got the hint and his vertical pupils widened in shock and wonder. He rolled off Alberto's lap, deflating. "Oh! Sharks, I'm really sorry. I don't know what got into me...I just hate that thing."

"The camera?" Alberto wiped his hand on his shorts, now soaked in water, and scooted a little ways from the boy. He waved the camera around in the air for effect, perhaps a bit carelessly, and the other boy flinched. "This takes pictures of things. It's cool!"

"Well, why were you taking picture things of me?" He said slowly, tasting the new words.

Under the sun Alberto was distracted by the creature's scales, so opalescent on the surface with that deep undertone of his true teal color. His dorsal fin, with no buoyant water to trail along, was flopped to one side casually. Alberto avoided looking at his tail, because this thing had a tail like an animal but could converse as lightly as any kid playing soccer by the fountain.

In short, he was beautiful. But also was a sort-of-fish and Alberto worried he was going to turn into someone's next fillet for the dinner table if he cooked out in the summer heat for much longer.

"Uh, aren't you going to dry up or something up here, sea monster?" Alberto pointed to the droplets of water quickly drying up on his scales.

The boy blushed, but from the sun's rays it wasn't as brilliant as it was the day before in the water. "It's Luca. And I think I'll be fine." He tapped the space below the fins on his cheeks, to some hidden part of his scales that Alberto was too shy to inquire about.

"What's Luca?"

The boy wrinkled his snout. "I'm Luca. That's my name, you catfish. Luca Paguro."

Alberto chuckled and let the polaroid camera rest beside him on a soft tuft of grass. "Catfish? Ouch. You know, I think I know someone who actually looks like a catfish."

Luca grinned his pointy teeth at him. "A real catfish? Can I see him?"

"Oh..." Alberto pulled his knees closer to his damp tank top and frowned at the puddle of water beside him. "I don't know about that..."

"Well, why not?" Luca questioned. He pointed to Alberto. "The Surface isn't so bad. I met you! And...And-" He tried to form the right words, looking so cute with his yellow eyes scrunched close. "And what are those things?"

Luca had abandoned his previous statement and crawled over to Alberto's travel hutch of paints, now propped open for him to admire. Alberto watched in silence as Luca tentatively stuck his webbed hand into the box, staring with raw curiosity at the shiny metal tubes of acrylic and the ceramic saucer serving as his palette.

He picked up Alberto's newest tube of red, examining the plastic top, unbroken.

"That's my paint box. I was thinking of doing a portrait--"

Luca turned the tube of paint so it was horizontal in his claws and took a bite from the top.

"...Of you," Alberto finished, shoulders slack. Luca's eyes flung back open when the pressure sent a burst of red acrylic across his fingers and into his mouth. He dropped the tube with a cry, teeth now stained an alarming red.

"You're not supposed to eat it," Alberto commented. He picked up the ruined tube with Luca's teeth marks still in it and set it in a corner of the box. "Here."

He handed over a towel he'd brought to clean his brushes so Luca could clean his face. Luca blinked wildly at the towel in Alberto's hands, not knowing what to do with it, so Alberto took the liberty to dip the cloth into the pool and wipe the red paint off his scales.

"That feels kind of weird," Luca whispered, eyes flickering up to the muscles lightly moving in Alberto's arm as he worked. His skin turned blue again, the odd freckles spanning along his bright cheeks flushing.

"Well next time don't take a bite out of my paints. Besides, it's for painting, obviously. Not food."

Luca sat on the back of his legs and quietly watched Alberto roll the cloth up and set it in the grass. "Can I paint? It looks like fun."

Alberto's eyes widened and bit his lip to hide his excitement. He fished inside his bag for a piece of paper for Luca then a small flat canvas for himself.

"Sure, I guess," He brushed it off. "Just don't get upset if it doesn't look like my paintings. I'm pretty good."

Luca snorted but eagerly snatched the paper from Alberto. He set it on a drier edge of the pool and slid back into the water. Spinning back around, he flashed Alberto a grin and held up the paintbrush he'd taken the day before, the wood soaked and paint chipping in places from water damage.

"I don't think you can paint with that, buddy," Alberto tsked. "The wood's probably rotted."

Luca's face fell and he jammed the paintbrush back into the crevice from before and scanned Alberto's palette he'd been depositing small portions of paint onto, grumbling.

Alberto started to paint and Luca just sat there watching, confused. Luca hid his face below the edge of the rock and used his index finger to dip into the well of green paint, then placed it on the paper. He let out a tiny noise at the discovery, now smearing globby splotches of forest green all along the page.

"Look Alberto!" Luca tugged on Alberto's toe to get his attention. He looked up from his canvas at Luca's paper. It wasn't much, but the look of pure glee on Luca's features was enough for Alberto to reach out and gently brush the fins on his head, like Luca had done with his hand, and smile.

"Nice," Alberto said softly. Luca blinked at his hand touching him, retreating a little into the water in surprise, but he soon floated back up and was adding blues to his messy painting. Luca couldn't be much younger than Alberto himself, only sixteen, and there still hung a childish innocence to him that was because he was so sheltered.

He knew he could never take Luca back to Portorosso. It was a fishing town.

Full of harpoons, nasty blades, monster-fearing Portorosso.

[summerofsnowflakes]

2. Sober Resolutions

Summary: Y/n and Daveed has been flirty friends for a while, she decides to make them a little more than just friends after getting a lil bit drunk. Now they have to deal with the day after the night before. 

Daveed Diggs x Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: 18+ There is a bit more smut than the last one but i’ll leave it at that...

1. Tipsy Decisions 

A/n: I got carried away with this part but @einfachniemand asked for a part 2 and I have answered! So I hope you enjoy this girl! 

You felt the hangover looming and groaned into the pillow you had your face stuffed into; the room was swimming and the light from the window made you feel like you were in an operating room. You tried to sit up only to realise you were very naked underneath the sheets and were not in fact in your bedroom. The panic began to set in as you realised where you were and who you were with last night, Daveed waltzed into the room humming to himself. He was covered only by a towel wrapped around his waist and little  water beads rolled down his body. You couldn't help but admire the sight before you. "Morning Beautiful." He practically sang in your direction. His words bought you back to last night.

Daveed wasted no time and laid himself down onto the sofa, pulling you up until you hovered over his face, you felt very vulnerable in this new position and  felt a shiver run down your body in anticipation as you waited for him to close the gap between you both. He bought his face up and tentatively swiped his tongue along your slit and you sucked in a breath at the contact. He worked you slowly exploring every inch of your pussy as you held onto the couch arm for dear life, you wanted to take a bit more control and grind into him but you felt self conscious.

Daveed seemed to sense this and pulled back to stare up at you, you had to admit he looked fantastic in the position. He grabbed your leg reassuringly. "Hey, I got you. You're safe Y/n, just let go." You tentatively nodded in response and tried to relax into it. You felt his mouth form an O shape and placed it over your clit. He sucked it gently which made your body jerk in place at the direct contact on your sensitive area and you tried to lift yourself up from him because of the intense feeling but he snaked his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. He turned his attention back to  his earlier actions. He sucked and flicked it in his mouth, he was relentless and you swore loudly at the feeling.

When he had you begging for more he switched up his actions and shifted you slightly so he had access to the whole area. He flattened his tongue making it as wide as possible and moved his head up and down along you folds and up to your clit. He continued, making you feel utterly euphoric and as the pleasure built you began to grind your hips into his face matching his movements. You built your speed up, rocking your hips back and forth and moaned out as you worked in tandem with one  another. The second orgasm was way more intense than the first and you were a moaning mess on top of Daveed as he watched you in awe.

You climbed off of his face and sat on the floor absolutely exhausted, Daveed smiled at you and watched as your chest rose and fell. "You're so beautiful Y/n"

You returned his smile and felt yourself heat up at his words. You were overcome by your animal instincts and you post orgasm self confidence sky rocketed and positioned yourself between his open legs and unbuttoned his trousers, your smile darkened as the dirty thoughts passed through your mind and  freed him from his tight boxers. You ran you hands along his thighs and you gazed up him, he wore a pained expression because of your tantalizingly slow actions. You had him right where you wanted him, you could see he was seconds from begging.

"Y/n." He whispered, the strain in his voice evident.

"I can't wait to have you in my mouth D." You spoke sweetly. You took his dick in your hand and moved down from the tip to the base slowly applying a small amount of pressure, Daveed let out a breathy sigh as he dropped his head back onto the couch. With your hand still firmly placed around the base, you bought his dick to your mouth and tightened your lips around his tip, you swirled your tongue in a circular motion and sucked in at the same time. This earned you a grunt in response and Daveed lifted his hips up off the sofa in an attempt to push himself further into your mouth.

You pulled back and smiled to yourself. "Patience Diggs." You spoke quietly before placing a few chaste kisses along his length. As you reached the tip once again you licked the precum up and fixed your gaze back on him. He bought his hand up to your face and swiped his thumb along your lip collecting anything you had missed and held it out in front of you. Instinctively you responded and took his thumb in your mouth and sucked slow and hard keeping your eyes firmly placed on one another. With his other hand he tangled his fingers into the roots of your hair and guided your face back to his cock, this time he took control and expertly pushed your mouth down, you relaxed your throat and took him as far as you could. Daveed guided your mouth up and down slowly watching as you took him in your mouth, he almost came there and then.

As he relaxed into the pleasurable feeling you were able to take control again and increased your speed with each stroke you were able to take more of his length, but you wanted more. You pulled back once again. "Stand up for me." Daveed didn't question you and did as you asked. In your sweetest voice you purred. "Will you fuck my throat please."

Daveed chuckled lowly but didn't respond instead he repeated his earlier actions but with more force. He thrust himself back inside your mouth with rigor, hitting the back of your throat and you felt your mouth water at his action but he didn't give you time to focus on that as he set a relentless pace. Your throat contracted at the new sensation and visibly gagged at the his actions. Daveed noticed this and tried to pull back but you held him in place to signal he shouldn't stop. Your eyes watered at the sensation as he continued and you managed to tighten your lips and he let out a strangled moan, you felt his cock twitch and he came quickly into your mouth with a string of profanities leaving his. As he pulled out of your mouth, you felt his cum drip slowly down you chin.

You knew you had gone all the way and you would unpack that later because it had now been 10 minutes since he had walked into the room and you hadn't uttered a word. It's not like he was expecting too much from you, he had just gone about his business getting dressed but it felt weird reliving your night together with him in the room and not speaking. "You want some food?" Daveed asked as he finished up. "I can make something for us."

You felt yourself freak out at the implication of this, you didn't stay after sex. No. You and the guy from the night before did not spend time together after the night in question. You felt it gave men far too much power and you liked being the one in control.

"I was going to get going actually Daveed." You spoke softly, the guilt rose in your chest. You knew you were being stupid, this wasn't just a guy you picked up at a bar and got with, no this was your friend and someone you cherished. Yet your toxic little brain was still screaming at you to run for the hills. Daveed chuckled softly. "Nah, I'm not accepting that girl. Ima go make up some food, there's  a towel in the bathroom for you to use and some clothes in the top draw that should fit you."

You were stunned by his blunt response and didn't say another word as he walked out of the room again. You knew you didn't really want to leave and deep down you actually respected his response, so you decided to stay.

You ended up having a lovely day together and you just enjoyed each other's company. It was a simple day, you went to the shops to get hangover snacks and watched a few films. Daveed indulged your inner child and agreed to watch one Toy Story movie, but then made you sit through a crappy action film as payback. It was honestly just two great friends spending the day together, there was no awkwardness about the previous night even though it was in the forefront of both of your minds. About ten minutes into second film you felt yourself grow sleepy and you snuggled up next to Daveed, he placed his arm around you and you drifted off into a light sleep. Your breathing was heavy but the film was loud. As an intense scene was taking place a loud rumble erupted from your tummy and Daveed could help but laugh loudly at you which startled you awake. "I'm so sorry Y/n. I didn't mean to wake you but you don't have to starve while you're here we can order food." He spoke still laughing softly. Your brain was clouded by sleep and confusion, you felt like you had missed the punch line.

"What do you mean?" You inquired.

"Your tummy just made the loudest noise I have ever heard." He smiled at you endearingly.

"Oh did it. Sorry Diggs." You replied still trying to make sense of the world.

"It's chill girl, you don't need to apologise, shall we order some food?" He placed his hand on your thigh tenderly.

You smiled sweetly. "Chinese?" You asked hopefully and he laughed again.

"You got it."

You wasted no more time ordering food and settled back into the chair while you waited for it to arrive. You tried to focus in on the film but you had missed a fair bit and truth be told it was really boring, you fell asleep because of it. You glanced in Daveed's direction slyly and spotted the TV remote next to him and before you had time to think it through you leapt across the sofa so you were vertical in his lap. He was stunned until he realised what you were doing and placed he hands on yours to stop you from taking it. "No Y/n. We're leaving it on." He barked jokingly.

"No it's awful." You tried to pull your hands and the remote free and you wiggled your body, but Daveed was stronger than you and your tangled body only weakened you. He jumped up so your back was against the sofa and he straddled your legs and looked down at you. You were trapped but you had the remote now and thought quickly before you slipped it behind your back and into the waistband of his sweatpants, you poked your tongue out at him.

He laughed at your childish antics. "Y/n, I have no problem taking those off you to get what I want." He spoke playfully.

Your mind went there and you bit back at him. "I'm not stopping you from taking what you want." You bit your lip at your own implication and you saw his eye flicker down your body. He bought himself down to hover over you, he was inches away from your face and you could feel his breath on your lips. You leaned up to meet his lips but the sound of the buzzer bought you back to reality and you both jumped away from one another as though you had been caught in the act. "I'll go get it." Daveed mumbled sheepishly.

For the first time over the last 24 hours it felt awkward, sure the line had been blurred but that was fueled by alcohol. Today has been relatively platonic but now you both had come inches away from making out sober and that would be a lot harder to explain away. Daveed laid out the food on the coffee table along with plates and cutlery. You sat yourself on the floor so you could access the food more easily. Nothing was said while you served up and settled against the foot of the sofa, that awful movie was still playing and you realised you still had the remote in your pants. You bashfully pulled in out and left it on the sofa next to Daveed but he didn't touch it. Instead he focused all of his attention on his dish of food, he pretended it was giving him a ted talk.

After five long minutes of dead silence between you both, Daveed finally spoke. "Look Y/n. We can dance around one another and for the next six months sleep together drunk and try to pretend this is just sex. But I don't want to do that, it's a waste of time. The sex was amazing and what made it better is that I woke up with one of my best friends the next day, even if she did try to run." He paused to see if you were with him and you turned to face, you didn't quite meet his eyes. "What I am trying to say is I want to see what happens, I don't just want sex, I want the vibe we have outside of that. Y/n I want you."

Your mind raced and you silently freaked out, you opened your mind to say something and closed it again. You repeated this a few times trying find the words, you felt like a fish. "But I am scared, if this doesn't work out I don't want to lose my friend."

"Who said you're going to lose me?" He asked sincerely and took your hand in his. "If it doesn't work out I'm still going to be your friend, but I want to you give this a try. Do you?"

You sat and thought to yourself, commitment was terrifying to you and this wasn't any random guy, this was Daveed. You finally met his gaze and gave into your heart. "Yes I want to give it a go."

You both let out a sigh of relief at your words and he sent a cheesy smile you way. "Okay, no pressure but I'm gunna kiss you now Y/n."

[nonbinary-ghost]

Hollow Knight fluff

I realized it’s been a while since I posted any of my writing on tumblr! So here’s some cheerful bug-fluff involving my favorite siblings.

This drabble takes place sometime after the fix-it fic I’m working on, so there are a few changes - The Grimmchild is now a teenager and uses she/her pronouns while going by the name Scarlet, and The Hollow Knight uses the name Hope (which will be explored more in the fix-it fic on AO3).

--

A blustering wind swept through the small room, carrying the scent of icy stone and snow. Hope shivered as the chill cut through the cloud of warmth from the heating oven and they glanced up from measuring out a cup and a half of flour. A red shape blurred through the narrowly cracked door before slamming the heavy wood shut against the wind with a bang. Hornet leaned back against the door and pulled her thick scarf down as she violently shook snow from her red cloak.

“It is far too cold for any self-loving bug to be out there,” she muttered under her breath and Hope silently chuckled as they added the flour to the mixing bowl. Today was Quirrel’s birthday, and the four siblings had decided they would surprise the adventurous pill bug with a cake and dinner tonight. Odds were good that he’d even forgotten about the special occasion. Hornet had been out making sure that Quirrel would be home at the selected time of surprise.

“What’s wrong,” taunted the Grimmchild, now going by the name Scarlet, from her place by the stove. “The great Hornet Protector can’t tolerate a little snow?”

Hornet scowled.

“I don’t need any flack from someone with literal fire for a heart.”

Scarlet grinned, the jagged smile cracking her mask in two, and she waved her wooden spoon at the bristling spider.

“I’m just saying, one might think someone from Deepnest would be a little more tolerant of the cold. Those caverns are downright frigid.”

“Oh, but the snow doesn’t bother you?” Hornet snarked. Hope noticed her secondary set of arms gather the lingering snow on her cloak out of Scarlet’s sight. Hope wondered if they should warn their adopted sister. But one look at Hornet’s stance told them they would only get caught in the crossfire if they intervened. Instead, they shifted away from Scarlet under the pretense of grabbing the eggs from the fridge.

“Of course not,” the oblivious Grimmchild stated, dramatically splaying her free hand over her chest. “As you said, the Nightmare Heart keeps me plenty warm and –“

               SPLAT

A tiny, half-melted snowball whopped Scarlet full in the face and splattered the slush around the kitchen. Hope lunged forward to shield the bowl of batter with their body and watched their littlest sister go rigid in shock before yelping as the snow began to drip down her neck. Hope couldn’t hold back their laughter as Scarlet flailed around.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” Hornet teased with a smile in her voice, all four arms clasped innocently before her. “I thought you said snow didn’t bother you?”

The Grimmchild turned with a hiss, the snow that still clung to her mask sizzling into steam as her eyes narrowed into vertical red slits.

“Very mature,” she growled, her raspy voice holding a barely restrained anger. She pointedly wiped the snow away with a shake of her hands, even though there was little more than vapor left. Hornet leaned forward with a grating smile.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Scarlet claimed. “I have a cake to help Hope bake. Besides, I am far more mature than –“

A second snowball pelted across the room. Scarlet was fast enough to turn out of the way of this one, so it only splattered against her shoulder instead of her mask. The very air around the Grimmchild began to waver with heat as she glared at Hornet over the counter, her narrowed eyes positively blazing.

“You’re going to regret that,” Scarlet hissed.

“I’d love to see you try and make me.”

Hope rolled their eyes in exasperation as Scarlet vanished in a burst of crimson flame, reappearing behind Hornet to dive at her. Hornet clearly expected this and rappelled away on a thread of spider silk. Hope turned from the fight to eye the scorch marks on the stone floor and made a mental note to make Scarlet clean them up later.

There was a reason they had very little furniture made of wood.

Hope barely looked up at the crashes and hurled insults as they returned to baking. The water on the stove was well past boiling (likely hurried along by Scarlet’s burst of anger) and Hope clicked off the flame before pouring the hot water over the roughly chopped coffee beans waiting in the press. Coffee was a rare commodity, especially now in the winter, but Hope had made sure to buy a decently sized bag or two from the last merchant to pass through Dirtmouth. None of Hope’s siblings cared for the stuff, but Hope enjoyed the bitter earthiness.

A particularly loud crash! literally shook the small house and Hope hissed as hot water splashed onto the back of their hand. Their actual hand. Great wyrm, why was it never their prosthetic that got caught in their sibling’s crossfire?

“Apologize!” demanded Scarlet as she lunged at Hornet.

“Only if you catch me!” Hornet laughed and leapt over the dashing Grimmchild, using her silk to rappel up onto the loft the served as Hope and Ghost’s bedroom. Scarlet crashed into the couch that Hornet had been standing upon, tipping the furniture to slam to the floor with a resounding bang.

A quiet creak from behind drew Hope’s attention from running cold water over their hand, and the trap door to the basement pushed up to reveal Ghost, their arms full of vegetables and mushrooms. They kicked the door to the basement shut and dropped their burden on the counter just as another clatter and more yelling filled the air.

“What’s going on?” Ghost asked, their fingers shaping the words carefully.

Hope shrugged and wavered a flat palm in a so-so gesture to mean “the usual”. Ghost snorted and nudged Hope away from the sink so they could start washing the vegetables. It still took Hope by surprise that Ghost was tall enough to even reach the sink. Just a month before, the Mask Maker had finished crafting an adolescent mask for Hope’s littlest sibling. They came up to Hope’s ribs now, and looked quite a bit like Hornet, with a slightly more angular mask and sloping horns. Except, the side of their mask also sported small ridges that hinted at longer spines in the future – similar to the Shade Entity Hope had seen in the realm of Void.

“Wasn’t Scarlet helping you?”

Hope just lifted their hand towards the chaos in explanation and Ghost rolled their eyes under their mask.

Finding the coffee had turned dark, Hope pushed down the strainer on the press and added a few spoonfuls of the brew to the batter, along with a good bit of cocoa powder, sugar, and an egg. The bowl had small grooves in the base that Hope could slide into similar slots carved into a heavy base that sat on the counter, which in turn held the bowl in place while they stirred the batter. Their prosthetic arm was good at holding some things, but at this angle they couldn’t get the right support from it to hold mixing bowls stationary. Hornet had actually helped come up with this solution so Hope could cook on their own.

“Ew, you added coffee to the cake?”

Hope jumped, not having realized Scarlet had appeared behind them.

“I thought I smelled that awful bean juice,” Hornet observed, handing upside-down from the ceiling by a thread of silk. Hope narrowed their eyes at their sisters, tempted to swat at them with the batter-covered spoon.

“It can’t be that bad,” Ghost signed and shook water from their hands. Before Hope could move to block them, Ghost dipped a finger in the batter and stuck it under their mask. They went straight in surprise, eyes wide.

“Well,” demanded Scarlet, practically twisting around Hope to see Ghost’s hands as they signed.

“It’s really good!”

“No way,” Hornet exclaimed. Without hesitation, Scarlet snatched the wooden spoon from Hope’s hand and danced away as she licked it.

“Pale Beings, that is good!”

She laughed as Hope lunged to seize the spoon back from her. With a wicked grin, she tossed it to Hornet, who caught it with a thread and skittered away. A pleased hum followed shortly after and Hope strode around the counter, standing up straight so they could glare over the edge of the loft at Hornet sitting primly on top of their desk. She waved the spoon at them tauntingly.

“This is really good!” she complimented, giving the spoon another lick. “Do we really have to bake the cake before we eat it?”

“Yes,” Hope signed impatiently. They grabbed at her, but Hornet threw the spoon over their mask and hopped back out of reach. Hope spun to find Ghost now holding the spoon. What followed was a frantic game of keep-away as the three siblings worked together to keep Hope running between them, trying to catch the spoon as they threw it over, under, and around Hope. Eventually the initial irritation that had smoldered in Hope’s belly shifted to glee as they hopped around and chased their giggling siblings. Ghost had a tendency to cloak themself in void to dash through Hope if they got too close, while Scarlet was more than happy to vanish in a burst of flame. Hornet was simply fast, able to pull herself around in nearly any direction at a moment’s notice by her thread. But, at last, one of them slipped up. In all of the chaos, much of the furniture had been knocked around and Ghost stumbled over a displaced chair at the end of one of their shade-cloaked dashes, nearly falling flat on their mask. At the same time, Hornet had swung in on a thread to avoid Hope’s desperate grab. She crashed into the stumbling Ghost and the two of them fell to the floor in a snarl of thread. With the two of them occupied, Hope turned their attention to the laughing Grimmchild. Faster than a blink, Hope snagged a startled Scarlet around the waist while she was distracted by her sibling’s mishap. With one sister retained, Hope blanketed themself in void and teleported behind Hornet and Ghost, and simply used their larger body to fall across them. All three of siblings squawked in complaint as Hope squashed them to the floor, effectively pinning them with their body.

“Hope, that’s not fair!” whined Scarlet, squirming in their grip. Hope just laughed and nuzzled their mask against hers.

“Alright, alright, you caught us,” Hornet wheezed, trapped somewhere under both Ghost and Hope. She was panting for breath, but small bursts of laughter kept cutting her off as she tried to negotiate. “You can let us go now.”

Nope. Hope shook their head and squeezed the three of them tighter as they trembled with laughter. This was nice. This carefree mischief, so different from the life Hope had lead before. A sudden wave of affection washed through them and Hope held their siblings as tight as they could while a happy, rumbling purr vibrated in their chest. They endeavored to never let their siblings go.

They eventually did, of course. But only after Scarlet promised to clean off the scorch marks around the house. And Hornet swore to help pick up the scattered furniture. And Ghost assured them that they would help Hope finish cooking. Before long the cake was finally in the oven, a hearty vegetable stew was bubbling merrily on the stove, and the four siblings were lounging in a newly reorganized living room. Hope had made everyone steaming mugs of hot cocoa; except for themself, who sipped on the leftover coffee they’d made for the cake.

Hope’s chest still felt warm and tight, and they almost felt close to tears at the affection they held for their siblings as they watched the three of them sprawl on the floor around a board game. This was exactly the life Hope had always dreamed of having. A life where they could be safe, and warm, and loved.

 A loud cry of dismay drew Hope out of their reverie as Scarlet glared at Hornet, who had apparently just sent one of the Grimmchild’s pieces back to start. Hope chuckled silently to themself and amended their thoughts. It was far louder and more chaotic than they ever could have imagined. This was not exactly how they dreamed life could be.

It was so, so much better.

[tamsong]

this is my secret santa gift for @alabestrine ! palli, i know this is painfully late, so i hope it’s worth the wait! enjoy, and i hope you had the happiest of holidays.

rating: T

word count: 1,476

ship: linh song/marella redek

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, missing scenes

warnings: very mild violence, descriptions of burns/injuries

(also there’s some art at the end >:D )

***

marella and linh circle each other on the training mat, each girl preparing her next attack.

marella squints and observes linh’s stance. linh is putting weight onto her right side, as if she’s going to lean right and pull water from the puddle a few feet away to fling straight back in marella’s direction. it’s a pretty obvious move, though, and linh is definitely smarter than that. no, marella thinks, linh is probably going to try something else- maybe fake her out, move out of the way, and pull water from the bigger puddle to her left? or maybe her slight movement was a ruse, and linh is going to stay in place, raise the water behind marella, and douse her in it, like she’d done last sparring session- linh isn’t beyond a few dirty tricks, which marella likes more than she should. 

it also helps that said friend is extraordinarily pretty, and the devious glint in linh’s eye when she drenches marella in cold water makes her stomach do flips. marella tries not to enjoy it too much, because she’s sure linh doesn’t feel the same way, but if she loses a few rounds on purpose just to see that look again, then no one needs to know. marella can be a little gay as a treat for all the fuckery she’s gone through by manifesting a technically illegal ability.

but that’s all beside the point. after a few more moments of thinking, marella goes with her fake-out theory. linh never uses the same trick twice, and it’s been a few minutes since she’s pulled a really big move like that.

marella lets her excitement and adrenaline build up in her chest, becoming fuel for her next fireball. she lets the flames ignite on her fingertips, devastatingly hot to everyone but her, and tosses the fire straight at linh right as she starts to change position. she expects the fireball to only graze linh at best, and probably not even get that far. linh has been getting better and better at putting up water shields on short notice.

but to marella’s horror, linh doesn’t move the way she predicted. instead of stepping right and then diving left, linh spins around in place and marella’s fireball hits her before she can see what’s happening.

linh collapses, and marella curses, scrambling to her friend’s side and hoping she hasn’t killed her.

thankfully, linh isn’t dead, but the actual situation isn’t much better. linh has been knocked a few feet back off the soft training mat and onto the tiled stone ground, which couldn’t’ve been a soft landing. she’s holding one arm out in front of her, sleeve ablaze. marella waves her hands frantically to try and smother the flames, but in her panic only manages to make it worse. the fire races faster up linh’s arm and spreads to her skirt. she lifts her hands to try and extinguish it again, but linh looks up, face contorted in pain with tears starting to well up in her eyes, and shakes her head. marella obeys, stepping back and trembling violently. what a failure of a pyrokinetic! you can’t even put out a fire to save your friend! she berates herself, mind racing with awful possibilities.

it’s a universally known fact that elves mentally can’t handle violence. but now, marella actually understands what that kind of guilt is like. if linh is permanently injured by this, and it's all marella’s fault for being stupid...

her body feels like it’s made of glass, about to fracture. marella sobs, then immediately feels worse for not trying to help her friend.

she tears her attention back to the problem at hand, which linh is fortunately getting under control. sweat beads on her forehead as she uses her hydrokinesis, drawing the tears off her face and forming it all into a liquid orb above her arm. grunting with pain and concentration, she finishes gathering water, then drops it all onto her smoldering clothes.

the fire goes out with a loud hiss and a puff of gray smoke. linh falls onto her back, clearly exhausted, and marella kneels next to her, lip wobbling.

“are you okay?” she blurts out stupidly. obviously not, seeing as marella had just nearly killed her with fire like an idiot. “i’m so, so, sorry, i didn’t-! i-i’m sorry for hurting you, i didn’t mean to. well obviously i didn’t mean to burn you and it would be stupid if i did, sorry! but yeah, i’m really-”

“marella!” linh cuts her off.

marella closes her mouth abruptly before she can bury herself in an even deeper hole. she takes a deep breath in. be strong. she exhales, looking back down at her friend. “i’m so sorry, linh. i fucked up, bad.” 

linh sighs, her eyes fluttering shut. “it was... an accident. please don’t beat yourself up about it.” 

marella nods, more to humor her than actually forgive herself, and leans closer to linh. soot and sweat dirty her face, and marella resists the urge to reach up and wipe it off with her thumb “do you need anything? i can find you some water, or go get elwin? an elixir?” 

“you’re sweet,” linh mumbles faintly. her lips curl slightly upwards, a ghost of a smile. she lifts one of her arms above her head. “can you help me up?” 

“’course,” marella answers roughly. she tugs on the proffered arm, slowly guiding linh into a sitting-up position. once linh is vertical, marella pulls the other girl’s hand into her lap, inspecting it for injuries, what she sees is... not pretty, and marella curses herself even harder. linh’s hand, arm, and thigh are all a raw pink from the heat, and in the worst parts of it the skin bubbles up like water from a hot spring.

her fingers get a little too close to the burn, and linh jerks away, hissing in pain. 

“aw, shit,” marella says on instinct.

linh cradles her arm to her chest. “i think there’s some burn balm in the emergency medicine kit. i can-”

“no, it’s okay!” marella answers. “stay right there. this is my fault, so let me help you. she stands up and looks at linh desperately, trying to show how much she needs to do this. if linh insists on treating herself, it wouldn’t be unwarranted, seeing how marella has already messed everything else up so badly. but she just doesn’t want her friend to hurt any worse. 

but then gratitude floods linh’s eyes and she nods. “thank you. i appreciate it.”

marella immediately sprints off to find the emergency med kit. it’s blessedly only in the closest corner of the room, and it only takes a few seconds of rummaging through the bag for her to find the blue bottle of burn balm. she runs back to linh, quickly unscrewing the bottle and dripping it everywhere. 

she kneels, gently tapping linh’s shoulder so she’ll hold it back out for her. linh complies, and marella starts slowly pouring the balm all over the burn. she focuses intently, and by the time she’s finished, the initially half-full bottle is nearly empty.

marella puts the burn balm down and watches. she’s used the same treatment on herself dozens of times when she first started learning pyrokinesis and is well-versed with its effects; it tingles for a little bit, then numbs the skin until the pain is completely gone. sure enough, linh’s forehead smoothens and her eyebrows unscrunch, and marella relaxes along with her. this time, when marella takes hold of her hand, linh does not flinch. she gently rubs the remaining balm into linh’s skin, pointedly not noticing how soft it is even when burned.

the moment feels far more intimate than it should. she’s glad linh isn’t an empath, because marella’s emotions are all over the place. she does hope, though, that linh understands how sorry she truly is, and might find it in her heart to forgive her.

when she’s done, marella drops her hands and somewhat unnecessarily says, “there, that should be good.” 

“thank you again,” linh replies, smiling much more fully than she had a few minutes ago. then, she does something shocking. 

linh uses her good arm to reach over to marella’s side, take hold of her wrist, and pull it between the two girls. linh presses a slow, sweet kiss to the top of marella’s hand, then gazes back up at her. 

the softness in linh’s eyes is... indescribable, and for a split second marella wonders if her feelings might not be so one-sided. she’s struck by the nearly irresistible urge to kiss linh back, somewhere other than on the hand.

her skin is hot where linh’s lips touched it, as if it were she who had been burned.

“you shouldn’t thank me,” marella says, looking away, and stands.

***

[medeafive]

Blood and Stone - 26

Masterpost

(For trigger warnings, please see the AO3 chapter end notes!)

She sleeps most of the time and when she doesn't, she eats raw amounts of increasingly bloody meat. Or maybe she can just tell better, keener sense of smell, the damp wood, smoking fire, the lifeless meat, the pines- She only gets up to pee, once a day at best, everything out of whack, draining somewhere , and it's not clear how long this can go, where she can keep getting the energy for this, how close she is to-

Bobbi monitors her closely. The baby starts kicking so hard Natasha gets stretch marks across her whole belly, not towards the edges but right over her belly button, and the next time the skin starts tearing, drops of blood squeezed out, delicious fresh blood, her own- This can't go on. She's afraid every waking hour that the baby will break through. It's visceral and inevitable, the final worsening of the symptoms of a fatal disease. Her body is not built for this. She's merely the instrument, the host, dispensable. The ruined carcass her monster baby will crawl out of into a world full of vampires, full of death, full of despair. And then it will either have horrible things done to it or do horrible things itself.

She hears them talk about her, too weak to respond. Maria is not one to mince words. "Why would you fuck a vampire, though? I mean, seriously."

"Yeah, no, I know. But I think she really… likes him."

"Well, that's stupid."

"I met him, though. And… I don't know, I don't fully trust him but- I don't think he's aware."

"He's a vampire . One of the monsters you hunt. Don't tell me he's not aware ."

"Biology, I guess. It's weird. But I think she'll see that sooner rather than later."

"Oh, let's hope so. It's sick."

"That's obvious. Let's just get her through it, and then we'll deal with that."

  She can barely think. She wakes and everything is white. Voices. Noises. Is she- She's still lying down, just not on the couch. It's awfully bright, electric. She'd say she's dead if she did still believe in heaven and hell and an afterlife that doesn't involve fangs.

"Why don't you just cut it out?"

The other voice is closer. "Might, actually. Do you have, for stitches- yeah, thanks."

"Seriously. It'll kill her."

"She wanted to keep it."

"You know it's a vampire spawn."

"I promised her."

"Who cares. Save her the pain."

This is far beyond. "What?" she tries to croak out.

"Natasha," Bobbi's voice says. "It has teeth."

  She can barely stay conscious. Her body has ossified, painfully, she can't even keep track of it. One long hard piece. She'll snap and break, be broken. Dry like leaves.

"The blood loss could seriously tip her over."

"Isn't that what you have the miracle cure for?"

"It might not be fast enough."

"Well, give it to her now then."

"Get the suitcase. Just in case."

Thumping steps.

"Natasha? Can you hear me?"

She tries but her bone cocoon cannot be moved. "Your blood pressure took a dive. I think there's damage to your kidney..."

  She can barely breathe. The words hardly reach her. Her cocoon is thick and heavy, completely enveloping her, slowly crushing her within. It's quiet and stifling, background thumping, her rattling breath louder than anything.

“...make it…”

“...moving…”

“...too much!”

“...sedate…”

“...not going to risk…”

“...that…”

“...happening…”

  The birth itself goes remarkably easily, as she is later told.

  She wakes an eternity later, and everything is still awfully bright.

The walls are white, the ceiling is white, her bed is white. There are white machines all around. She’s on a drip, as she’s been forever now, her arm riddled with fresh scars like one of a drug addict. Maria is leaning against a white cupboard, arms crossed, face closed off.

Natasha sits up easily. “What-”

“Cesarean section,” Maria replies. “Barbara gave you a lot of the crazy juice. It’s already healed.”

Natasha blinks, then pulls up the gown. There’s a scar from left to right, horizontally, on her abdomen, crossed with a smaller vertical scar at the center, ending below her belly button. Her belly is not where it was before she got pregnant but it’s already receded, and she panics like something’s missing, like she forgot something, a bag or- “Barbara said if you can get up, you should get up,” Maria adds. “She’s upstairs.”

They’re in the basement, the cellar. The cellar is a lab, that’s why everything is white. Sterile. “Did I bleed?” Natasha asks.

“Not until Barbara cut you open,” Maria replies simply. “It was in the middle of the day. We had it all patched up until sundown.”

She swings her legs off the bed, feeling so much lighter. Moving is easy to a degree she hardly remembers. The air doesn’t even feel cold. The stretch to her belly is gone, leaving some flabbiness and a lot of freedom of movement. “So it’s all good?”

“Well,” Maria remarks, removing the needle. “Almost.”

Natasha blinks. She’s forgetting something. “The-”

“It’s alive,” Maria says, handing her a glass of water. “Well, I’m not sure that’s the right word.”

She drinks slowly, so used to being careful with the swallowing because coughing is so exhausting. But she's still alive. Despite the- everything. Despite all of this shit. "Can I see it?"

"If you really want." Maria shakes her head.

She must think Natasha's crazy, with the vampire, the baby, the- sick. Did they say that? It feels so visceral. Like it makes her less than human, all this shit, the- She suddenly doesn't want it anymore, any part of it. She's tired, tired of everything, where she ended up. She wants them not to look at her with disgust anymore. She wants it to end.

She finishes the glass, head empty. Maria always studies her like she's crazy and dumb and cannot be trusted. Then Natasha gets up mechanically, the first time in forever she doesn't need help. She feels stronger and empty at the same time. Was it really worth it? Becoming this shell of a human just to survive? Give up her humanity to be strong enough to take on the monsters? What kind of a fool would think birthing a monster would bring her back any part of herself that's already long dead and buried?

Doesn't matter now. There's a door on one wall, of course also white. She opens it herself, gripping the handle. The next room is dark and only has the creaky wooden staircase. She holds her hands out to grip the grained wood. Maria follows her slowly, quietly. The staircase has a steep climb yet it doesn't exhaust her at all. She pushes the hatch open.

Upstairs is lit by candles, wooden shutters closed. Bobbi is standing by the cupboards, turning when the hatch opens, bundle of blankets in her arms. "Oh. You're up."

Natasha doesn't really know what to say to that, inching closer. There's a plate with strips of meat on the counter, strong smell. Bobbi rocks the bundle gently. "Everything alright? Your belly looked good already, half-healed."

"Yes," Natasha replies, coming to a stop. "It's healed."

Pale skin peaks out of the bundle. Bobbi nods, grabbing a strip of meat and feeding it to- A wave of sickness comes over Natasha.

God. Why did she do this?

The- the thing swallows the meat quickly, she can hear it chew and slurp. She suddenly doesn't want anything to do with this anymore. She wants to turn around and run away, go back to fighting monsters, not- not creating them, go back to being herself , whoever that is, fight and kill-

Bobbi wipes her fingers on the blanket and turns slightly so Natasha can see the blank face, the fat smeared around its mouth, the teeth, almost fangs, the empty dark eyes- Clint was right, James was right, they were all right, how could she ever believe to bring something good into the world when she's becoming every day more like the monsters infesting it, when she's so obviously beyond repair or redemption, a broken shell of a human that just pretends to feel, to believe, to dream - "Do you want to hold it?"

She's staring at the blank child-like face of the abomination like into a mirror, the unmistakable proof of what she has turned into. She has blurred all the lines, lost everything she claimed to hold dear, drenched her ledger in red. There's no way back. The world is holding a mirror to her face, a mirror of her own flesh and blood, and for once, she cannot look away.

Bobbi steps closer, pressing the blanketed abomination into her arms, checking that she has a solid hold on it. "There. It's a girl."

It's a monster, unmistakable from the upper canines, the pale marbled skin, the dark soulless eyes. It doesn't even feel warm through the blanket. She stares at it, swallowing, and the thing stares back blankly. It dawns on her this thing will never be a child, it will never want anything from her, no affection, no care, no nurturing, all it wants is to eat . How could she have been so wrong?

"It's quite heavy for an early birth," Bobbi remarks. "But that's not really surprising."

It's indeed heavy, plenty of dead weight. She has no doubt this thing would have kicked through her stomach if necessary. No concern for anything but its own survival. She swallows again, staring at the dark void behind those eyes. "Can I- give it back?"

"Sure." Bobbi has plucked it from her arms before she can reconsider. "You should still take it slow. The vampire blood seems to have worked well but we don't want to risk it."

The hatch is closed soundly. Maria doesn't seem particularly excited about any of this, shuffling over and dropping on the bench. The thing on Bobbi's arm opens its mouth, gaping hole, sharp teeth that seem a little too big for its mouth. Bobbi snorts softly, dropping another slice of meat down its throat. And just like that, Natasha's out of this whole thing. This is not her baby. This is not something she can take care of. She can't fix this. She's never going to have a relationship with this thing because this thing is never going to have a relationship with her. This is not her baby .

"It's very hungry," Bobbi remarks, feeding it more. "I wonder how it will grow."

It doesn't matter. It's not a baby. It's something to recoil from, the blatant sign of her failure as a human. Maybe, if she pushes it away far enough, that counts for something, that makes her more human again. Turn off this path. It'll be a dreary march but maybe she'll get somewhere, because there is no staying here. She sees that now.

She lays down on the couch, her couch, and falls asleep with her heart thumping.

  The thing eats, sleeps and stares into the void. It hasn't made a sound once. It breathes, though. Bobbi takes care of it good-naturedly because Natasha absolutely can't but it seems more professional than out of joy of having it. It's really not a joy. It is eerie, the dead baby, the soulless baby, the parasite. It may be out of her body but she's got the feeling it would suck the life out of her if it could. She can tell Maria hates it as well, though she never says it, but then again she never says much.

Bobbi says she has postpartum depression, without the usual fatigue, but she can't understand the crushing moral weight of having brought this into the world. For God's sake, she fucked a vampire . Even if it was James. It sickens her. What's so wrong with her that she couldn't see how wrong this all was? How could her moral compass break like this? Maybe it was Alexei, maybe that's what ruined her, maybe- she knows she's still not over it, even if she pretends to be, chopping the head off of the man she used to love, and now she loves a vampire whom she could never ever hurt- Fuck. She went wrong at so many intersections. Alexei, the careless way she acted in Saint Petersburg, coming here, giving up so much on herself that she's willing to inject vampire blood, growing so used to it it doesn't even disgust her anymore. No wonder she fucked a vampire. She's become everything she murdered Alexei for, and so much worse. Thinking about it drowns her in shame. She can't hide from the world anymore. She could barely hide what she'd done to Alexei and now, this thing , it'll never ever go away.

She follows Maria outside to chop wood because she can't stand being around the thing. Maria, of course, doesn't remark on it, calmly but forcefully driving the ax into the wood. Natasha looks for something to say to assure Maria she's not all gone, that she's still human, that she shouldn't get her head chopped off like Alexei. "I wish I had never had it."

Maria huffs, then splits the next block. She doesn't seem convinced. Natasha will have to do more than that if she ever wants to have some worth as a human again. "I don't want anything to do with vampires ever again. With those monsters."

"Good," Maria remarks briefly, letting her ax rain down.

Natasha looks for even more words, something of a frenzy. "I want them all dead. All of them."

Maria nods, angling the next block and handing her the ax. Natasha takes a deep breath and slams it down with all her might, blowing right through the wood and at least an inch into the chopping block. Maria whistles through her teeth, nodding with approval, placing the next piece of wood on the chopping block and collecting the stray parts of the previous one. "You got strength."

"It's the vampire blood," Natasha replies, taking another deep breath before driving the ax through the wood. It feels good. Finally doing something. "It makes me stronger."

Maria nods slowly. "Use it."

  She doesn't cry. This is not something to cry about. This is bare knuckles, quiet resolve, clarity. Not the agreeable kind but still one you cannot ignore. She sits around, staring at the thing, trying to find the faintest hint of humanity in it but coming up short. It's a monster and she never should have had it.

Maria went out into the forest to hunt. Bobbi is downstairs in the lab, testing how the skin of the monster reacts to UV light. The thing itself is lying on the couch table, all bundled up, breathing stupidly through the monster fangs. Natasha stares at it venomously.

She can't live with this thing. It goes against everything. Beyond good and evil, this thing is just - it shouldn't exist. There are limits even to what this wretched world can take and this is beyond them. All of this is on her, so she needs to be the one to fix it.

She takes a pillow. The thing stares at her with its empty eyes. It's not even scared. Maybe it knows. Monsters don't feel things, other than bloodlust. It has the fangs and a tiny resemblance of the claws as well but the dead eyes are the worst. There's nothing behind those eyes. She made this soulless abomination, her own flesh and blood, she brought this upon the world, she needs to deal with it.

She presses the pillow onto the thing's face.

It doesn't struggle, doesn't move, but it never does, only ever to open its mouth and demand more bloody meat. There's barely any resistance. She honestly hopes it fucking dies. There's no place in the world for this thing, they're all better off without it, it doesn't deserve to breathe air like a human when it's nothing more than a parasite and a monster. She presses the pillow down harder. The thing doesn't even react. She feels bile rising up her throat, the ugly truth making her gag, tears streaming down her face. She never wanted this. Any of this. She wanted something human , something real , something that makes her better, not this monster, this abomination, this disgrace. She never wanted the world to see how fucked up she is, fucked up enough to sleep with a vampire, to take vampire blood, to have the monster baby and believe it's going to be anything else than exactly that, a monster with fangs and claws and dead eyes and an insatiable hunger, it's dead already, dead to her, and maybe then she can wake up from this nightmare and go back to- to a world without vampires, an ugly and painful world but one with hope nonetheless, not this soulsucking dark pit, this endless tunnel, this sinful void-

Something rips her back, fingers digging into the pillow but futilely, and Bobbi pushes her back onto the couch and throws the pillow onto the ground, checking up on the thing- its face is red and it's breathing hard but it doesn't appear perturbed. "Shhh. It's okay."

Natasha feels even more tears stream down her face. Fuck. Did she really think, did she really convince herself that this would fix anything? That she could make any part of this undone? Bobbi takes the thing and sits down next to her. "It's okay. It's okay, Nat."

No, it's not. She just tried to murder her own- this is even lower, even darker. This is how bad, how inhuman she is, how low she has sunk. The thing stares at her without any anger, any curiosity, any accusation, just a blank slate. It's not evil. It's just… there. "No, it's not okay."

Bobbi strokes the top of its head. "It's fine, really. Nothing happened. You're both going to be okay."

She's not going to be okay, and this is not fine. If Bobbi hadn't showed up, she really would have- This is exactly how fucked up she is, how self-hating, how ready to do anything that promises the faintest reprieve. She would have smothered her own child with a pillow because- because what, it's not what she hoped for? As if that's on her child and not on her, she pushed this thing into this world, how can she blame it for anything, really, try to push her own flesh and blood away because she can't face what she's become, can't own up to it, can't accept it. This thing is her and wanting to hurt it for that, annihilate it for that, that's just pathetic and stupid and hypocritical.

"It's okay," Bobbi assures her. "It's going to be okay."

[frayed-at-the-seams]

And then it was him.

(Lan Jingyi x Lan Sizhui)

Jingyi gazed out of the window languidly. In the front of the classroom, the teacher’s voice faded to a monotonous drone as Jingyi watched the leaves sway in the warm spring breeze. He absentmindedly chewed on the end of his pen slightly. The soft early morning sunlight making him doze. He had spent too much time playing mario cart with his friend, Ouyang Zizhen, the night before and the lack of sleep was making itself known.

<p>“Lan Jingyi!”

<p>Jingyi jerked his head up with an undignified yelp. The teacher was levelling him with a fearsome glare. Jingyi hastily wiped the stray drool from his mouth and brushed his curtain of a fringe behind his ear. “Yes Sir?”

<p>“Pay attention. I know that you are still new to this school but I expect better”. Humiliation curled up in his stomach as the rest of the class giggled and Jingyi felt himself blush in shame. He had only been in cloud recess a week but he missed his old school. There had been less rules. ‘And’, he thought as the teacher continued the lesson, ‘the teachers had been nicer too’.

<p>Originally, Jingyi had been born and raised within the rich district of town known as cloud recess. But his dad’s company had fallen in to bankruptcy and Jingyi and his parents had moved to the far away Mo village. Jingyi had been six at the time. However, he had adjusted quickly to the poor but friendly village, making friends with Zizhen and joining the local school.

<p>But whilst he had flourished within the small community, his parent’s relationship had grew progressively worse. It started with drinking, then snide comments which progressed into shouting fights and slamming doors. By the time he was sixteen, there were bruises on both his parent’s faces. The fights having turned physical. Jingyi learnt not to step between them after he had gotten his third black eye. It didn’t mean that he didn’t still try though.

<p>It was Zizhen that raised the subject of scholarships. Jingyi, who was beginning to feel suffocated, jumped at the idea and applied to as many sports scholarships he could. It was only luck that he was able to win a Classical Chinese dance scholarship to the prestigious Cloud recess academy. It was given that something would go wrong and ruin his luck. Just one week in and he was already mucking it up. Curse those who decided that he had to take maths and Chinese classes as well as his dance classes. Whoever they are, they were evil.

<p>The slamming of the classroom door made Jingyi jump, disturbing his train of thoughts. Startled, he turned his head to the doorway to watch as two figures bowed to the teacher.

<p>“Mr Lan, Mr Jin, what time do you call this?” The teacher asked. ‘Ah’, Jingyi thought. He eyed the two boys up and down. ‘The princes’.

<p>“I apologise sir”, Sizhui smiled charmingly, as polite as always. “We got held up in traffic. Jin Ling snorted at the excuse but did not speak. The teacher assessed them warily then sighed.

<p>“Just go and find a seat”. Both Sizhui and Jin Ling nodded before turning their faces towards the class. Sizhui’s purple brown orbs flittered across the room before alighting on the empty space next to Jingyi.

<p>Trying to look busy, Jingyi pretend to be reading through his notes as the chair moved beside him. It was only when Sizhui had sat down did Jingyi notice that he had not actually taken any notes and that his notebook was not even open. Glancing up at his new desk partner, he watched as a neat white pencil case and a clear pale blue notebook were placed on the table. The colour of the notebook matched the famous Lan ribbon tied around Sizhui’s wrist.

<p>Before he even came to cloud recess, Jingyi had heard of the Lan family. His father from from a very distant branch, so removed from the main family that the only thing they shared was the name. They were nothing like the twin jades.

<p>Everyone knew of the twin jades, head of the Lan mafia which controlled fifty percent of China. The other half was split between the Jin clan, the Nie clan and the Jiang clan. All the clans got along famously. Especially due the the fact that the head of the Lan clan, Lan Xichen, was married to Jin Guangyao and sworn brother’s with the fearsome Nie Mingjie. But a more famous story, one that everyone knew, was the love between the Yiling Patriarch and the Second jade. It was Wei Wuxian, adopted brother of clan leader Jiang Wayin, and Lan Wangji who were the most feared.

<p>It was their adopted son who was sitting next to Jingyi now.

<p>As if he could hear his thoughts, Sizhui turned and gave Jingyi a stunningly warm smile. Feeling the blood rushing to his face, Jingyi hurriedly broke contact and turned his head towards the front. It stayed like that for a few minutes before he heard the click of a pen and the sound of Sizhui taking notes, that Jingyi could relax his stiff posture slightly.

<p>Despite being the child of the mafia, Sizhui was an elegant student. Ever since they had first met as kids in preschool, Jingyi had admired him. Sizhui never let his reputation affect him. The guy was as charming and gentlemanly as a fairytale prince. He was the president of the student council and had the top grades of the year. People ignored that he was the heir to the largest mafia in China, and instead treated him like an idol. Jingyi had even heard a rumour that Sizhui had beaten up a gang of bullies single handed, only to then scold them on bullying and assist them to the infirmary.

<p>But despite having been fierce childhood friends, honestly, the guy was a conundrum. They had lost contact when Jingyi’s family had moved away, which his younger self had cried about. He gazed at his new desk partner. Sizhui’s black hair was cut short and neatly against his head. His skin was smooth and unblemished, almost matching the pristine white of his shirt. His uniform was ironed and fresh. Compared to jingyi’s rumpled and still sleepy state, Sizhui might as well have just walked out of a fashion magazine.

<p>“Is everything okay?” Sizhui’s calm voice asked. Jingyi blinked to find Sizhui watching him.

<p>“Oh um yes!” His voice cracked. “Yes! I’m fine. You just have blood on your...” Jingyi broke off, his hand moving to catch Sizhui’s sleeve. He caught the end of the blue Lan ribbon between his fingers and began to absentmindedly rub at the small stain.

<p>There was a beat of tense silence as Jingyi realised what he was doing. Colour drained out of his face. Mercifully, the bell rang. Dropping the ribbon, Jingyi hastily gathered up his stuff and fled the classroom, leaving Sizhui alone at the desk.

<p>“What the hell was that all about?” Jin Ling barked, having watched the scene from his desk a short distance away. He was obviously spending too much time with Jiang Cheng and his potty mouth was increasing because of it.

<p>Sizhui let out a hum, fingers toying with end of the ribbon on his wrist. “Nothing”, he decided finally, despite Jin Ling’s assessing gaze. “Let’s go”.

——

<p>“Good! Again!” The instructor called with a clap of his hands.

<p>Jingyi paused to wipe the sweat off his forehead before taking his position at the beginning of the mats. The mats covered a long line across the floor of the gym, almost like a runway. A runway and Jingyi was a pretty awesome plane.

<p>Grinning, Jingyi started his run up. One flip, head over heels into a forward somersault. He flipped into a series of five forwards somersaults before using the last of his momentum to launch himself up into the air, body twisting sideways before landing on his knees. The mats cushioned his landing, so when he got up it was only with a slight ache.

<p>“Excellent Jingyi!” The instructor, Mr Lee, called with delight. He was a large heavy set man with a encouraging grin. Jingyi liked him the best out of all his teachers. He clapped him hard on the back, almost sending Jingyi stumbling.

<p>“Thanks Mr Lee”. Jingyi grinned and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. His fringe, which was long enough to graze his jaw, was pushed back by a white sweatband. The rest of it was cut short for convenience, but Jingyi still wished that he could grow it out.

<p>Catching his breath, he walked over to the side of the room to grab his water bottle. He took a swig as footsteps sounded behind him. As Jingyi turned around, he choked in surprise. Hurriedly, he wiped at the water dripping down his chin.

<p>“What are you doing here?” He gasped.

<p>Sizhui smiled at him. He was still immaculate in his pristine white and blue uniform. Jingyi felt inappropriately embarrassed. He was sweaty and gross and probably smelt. Sizhui smelt of sandalwood and orange blossom. Even his damn scent was perfect.

<p>“I came to speak to you”, Sizhui’s smile was like dawn light, innocent and pure. Jingyi fought the urge to snort. “Is this a bad time?” Sizhui looked like a kicked puppy.

<p>“Um”, Jingyi glanced around at the rest of the class. “I’m in the middle of practising at the moment. But we should be done by four”. Why did he mention the time?

<p>“Oh”, Sizhui perked up. He beamed at Jingyi. “I’ll wait then”.

<p>“Oh um sure. You do that”, Jingyi averted his gaze and tried to quell his flaming cheeks. He set his water bottle back on the ground. Sizhui lowered himself into sitting cross legged beside it, smiling pleasantly. Jingyi tried not to make it look like he was running away.

<p>“Why is Lan Sizhui waiting for you?” Zizhen hissed as Jingyi preformed a windmill turn. He transitioned out of the movement into a vertical split, holding his position.

<p>“I don’t know”, He muttered back, focussing on maintaining his balance.

<p>Zizhen did not answer for a moment. Throwing himself forward into a travelling straddle jump. Once he had landed, he circled back to Jingyi’s position. “Dude, he’s Lan Sizhui! You must know something”.

<p>Jingyi let his foot touch the ground. Rolling his shoulders, he spared Zizhen a sheepish look. “It may have something to do with the fact that I touched his ribbon earlier”.

<p>Zizhen gasped. “Jingyi! You know how important those ribbons are”. Jingyi winced with the scandalised tone. He did know. Every member of the Lan family had one. They represented restraint, only to be touched by your family or significant other. It was a family tradition that had been held for years. Even Jingyi had been given one at birth like all Lans, but his parents didn’t care much for the traditions. He had lost his as a child and never received a new one. When they had moved away and the Lan family had cut ties with his parents, it didn’t matter anymore.

<p>Jingyi felt a small amount of dread settle in his gut. Those ribbons were held within the highest esteem by the main family. So much so that there were rumours that the last person to try and forcibly touch Lan Wangji’s ribbon had died a gruesome death. Jingyi shivered.

<p>“It can’t be that bad right?” He asked. Zizhen, who was preforming his cooling down stretches, shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. Jingyi put his head in his hands and sighed.

——

<p>Once the class was over, Jingyi reluctantly made his way back over to where Sizhui was sitting. The boy smiled at him and handed him his water bottle, which Jingyi drank from greedily.

<p>“I can talk now if you want”, Jingyi said as nonchalantly as he could. Sizhui stood up, causing Jingyi to mentally curse the few centimetres that the older boy held over him.

<p>“That’s good. Shall we get drinks? I know a coffee shop nearby”, Sizhui asked. Jingyi eyed him warily but nodded.

<p>Together they walked out of the practise room. They made their way through the building, only pausing long enough for Jingyi to pull on a jumper and a pair of shoes in the changing room. Sizhui insisted on taking his bag.

<p>“You shouldn’t have to-“, Jingyi started, hands itching to pull his backpack from the other boy’s shoulder.

<p>Sizhui smiled in that disarming way and shifted the strap up higher. “I insist. Your muscles must be aching from all that practise. Let me do it”. Jingyi grumbled a bit more but eventually gave up with a huff, pouting as they walked to the coffee shop.

<p>The coffee shop was only a few blocks away luckily. The silence as they walked was so awkward that Jingyi felt like crying. When they got there the scent of coffee and the pleasant sound of chatter and clinking cups washed through Jingyi like a wave of calm. The cafe was warm and cozy. The walls were accented with wood and photos. A sign above the door named the place ‘ghostly scent’ and Jingyi found himself feeling a bit better.

<p>“Uncle Ning”, Sizhui greeted as they neared the counter. A frazzled and nervous looking man looked up from the coffee machine and beamed at them. He had long black hair tied away from his face in a low ponytail by a red hair tie which matched his red apron.

<p>“Sizhui”, he greeted in a quiet, stuttering Voice. “What can I get you?”

<p>“I’ll have a black coffee and he’ll have a honeycomb hot chocolate”, Sizhui answered. Jingyi blinked. How they hell did he know his favourite drink? His mind faltered for a moment as Wen Ning turned to make their drinks.

<p>“Wait, I can pay”, Jingyi said, scrambling for his wallet.

<p>Sizhui shook his head dismissively as Wen Ning waved a hand. “No need. Sizhui and his friends always get free drinks here. Just go and sit down. Xue Yang will bring you your drinks in a moments”.

<p>Sizhui thanked him and took Jingyi gently by the wrist. He lead him over to a table in the corner, removed from the main hubbub of the cafe. Jingyi felt like he was going to spontaneously combust right there and then. He didn’t. Instead, he obediently sat down opposite Sizhui, ignoring how he still had his wrist within his grip.

<p>“Um, is this about your ribbon?” Jingyi stuttered. “If so then I’m really sorry. I was half asleep and I didn’t realise what I was doing-“. Sizhui shook his head, cutting him off. Jingyi fell silent as a scowling teenager with badly cut black hair set their drinks on the table.

<p>Sizhui took a long gulp of his tar like drink and Jingyi nervously followed his example. The flavour of honey and chocolate eased his aching body and he found himself relaxing in his seat with a moan. Sizhui watched him.

<p>“To not about the ribbon”, Sizhui smiled. Jingyi blinked slowly at him, not computing.

<p>“Then why am I here?”

<p>“Because I wanted to talk to you”. Sizhui’s grip on his wrist had travelled down to his hand without Jingyi noticing. He linked their fingers together with a smile that had Jingyi blushing as red as Wen Ning’s apron.

<p>Sizhui squeezes his hand and continued. “I want to ask you on a date”, he stated. Jingyi must have died, how could this be happening?

<p>“What?”

<p>Sizhui used his free hand to pull something from his pocket. He unfolded a piece of white material to reveal a embroidered Lan ribbon. With shock, Jingyi watched as Sizhui let go of his hand to tie the ribbon around his wrist.

<p>“Remember when we were kids and you were moving away?” Sizhui asked. Jingyi nodded numbly, brain trying to absorb what was happening. “You had come running to me crying about leaving. I told you that we would see each other again and you gave me your ribbon and made me promise”.

<p>As Sizhui talked, the memory surfaced in Jingyi’s mind. He had been distraught that he would have to leave Sizhui behind and had runaway to his house. He had cried and dropped his ribbon onto Sizhui’s palm before running home.

<p>“I thought I lost it”, Jingyi breathed. Sizhui smiled warmly at him and unravelled the ribbon around his wrist, stretching it out to show the embroiled characters of Jingyi’s name sewn amongst the cloud design.

<p>“Jingyi”, Sizhui asked once he had retied the ribbon. He took his hand again, palm warm against his skin. “We found each other again. Will you go on a date with me?”

Jingyi found himself laughing slightly hysterically. All doubts and fears left his mind as he giggled. He grinned, squeezing Sizhui’s hand. “Yeah. Let’s go on a date”.

[ofdarkeststone]

Ch. 1 - The Eventide Tower

Theme Song: Etna - Boris, Sunn 0)))

-

“The High Bramble had been much thicker than expected on the east slope of the hill and now broken thorny twigs clung to my clothes like spider’s web. Pushing through the bramble by force had proven less frustrating than clearing it with what modest equipment I had brought. My legs, forearms and face were streaked with my own blood by the time that I reached the ridge.

I set down my pack and rested on one knee. Thankfully, when I turned the pack over in my hands, I found it had not torn; though there were small holes, scrapes, and frayed patches all over. I grabbed my water skin from within and took several swigs before splashing my face to clear the sweat and blood. The web of hairline cuts across my forehead and cheeks all stung anew and I clenched my face tightly to push out the pain. I exhaled, slapped myself a few times, and reopened my eyes.

The exposure of the ridge kept it mostly clear of the tortuous plants below and I made good progress southward from then on. However, with no shade, the late noon sun soon beat upon my back like the horse driver’s whip and I could feel the sting of sweat dripping over the cuts on my neck and legs. On the north slope of the hill and further down towards the ghostly river Reo, there extended a vast forest of Calin Trees. I longed for the shade of their limbs and the cooling drops of late dew held in the Kausim Brush beneath, but I could smell the bitter odour of stagnant Swamp Sod: patches of seemingly solid ground which would give way and bury you alive in thick swamp muck. The cave hermit I'd met the day previous had said a vengeful river spirit had captured these woods from the Dryads and would take any who entered. Only the shallow rock of the ridge could guarantee quick passage and safety.

I hiked for half the day. I stopped occasionally to rest and more than once I had to scramble against spontaneous flows of gravel which threatened to pull me down into the forest like an ocean tide. All the while, the sun travelled with me and sagged in the sky as my exhaustion grew.

After hours of careful walking upon the rough stone and gravel, my feet were thoroughly sore and cramped. The soft soles of my boots had failed me and I was forced to stop. I made a precarious camp on a slightly broader stretch of the ridge and lay facing the river to watch the Sternidae wheel in the sky and dive for the thin fish swimming below.

While chewing dried meat and massaging my feet, I watched as the sky turned pink and the sun fell to the tops of the hills. The tips of the trees glowed with the glancing light and the forest became like a million flickering candles. I remembered the memorials at my father’s chapel and lighting candles for my mother and brothers.

As the birds settled onto the water to sleep, the pink sky turned deep red and an evening mist began rising from the river valley. For a moment, I thought that I saw the faint smoke plume of some distant campfire coming from a large island which split the river, but when I searched for the source it was not obvious. What I perceived as smoke was too uniform in darkness, and when I concentrated, I could tell it was unaffected by the breeze. I lay upon my side on the coarse gravelly ridge and watched the strange patch of dark air until the sun dropped behind the horizon and the sky turned deepest black.

As the sun had fallen, the darkness had swiftly become more opaque. The emergent shape had been strange and the light of the setting sun had seemed to completely ignore it, so that no detail could be seen upon its surface. There had been only a monolithic silhouette against the red sky and a far-reaching shadow from its base. The pure black of this thing had been so palpable, so solid, that I found I could not look away. Its true size and true depth were hidden by its blackness, but I had felt it looming over me even though my camp was a full day’s journey distant – it was a massive tower.

As the sky had dimmed, the black of the void form had merged with the coming night and the candelabra forest was doused. A panoply of stars had filled the heavens and the silver light of the moon had adorned the distant hills. For some time, I had been able to make out the silhouette still, but soon the stars and moonlit horizon had appeared within its gloom. Shortly after, the dark shape had disappeared completely.

I blinked and I became aware of myself, the present, and my surroundings again. The drone of night creatures from the Calin forest below crashed upon me and shattered the apparent silence that I had felt while entranced. I was wet with sweat and I found that my palms were bloody and pocked with gravel from where I had been pressing them firmly into the ground as I watched the dark tower.

I had not made a camp fire, but I was too exhausted to bother. I lay back and fell into a deep sleep while flat upon my back.

I awoke with the strange sensation of having dreamt, but I could only remember darkness. It was early and the sun was reaching over the horizon. I scanned the shadowed landscape to see if the monolithic silhouette might manifest for the morning sun, but it did not. Whatever magic I had witnessed was only awoken by the coming of dusk.

As I had slept, plum-sized Rozmyrn Scarbadae had sequestered themselves into the folds of my cloak and when I rose they tumbled out and rolled down the hillside like sapphire marbles. Their clicking chirps called down a gang of Passerids which swooped along the slope and plucked their breakfast before nesting below in the morning damp Calin.

I stretched my awfully stiff limbs, packed up my gear, and headed off along the ridge once more. Provided I could find safe passage through a short stretch of the forest somewhere up ahead, I thought that I could make it down to the river in a matter of hours. The thought of fresh fish for lunch gave me renewed vigour and thankfully I made good pace. Just as the sun was reaching its zenith and the heat was becoming unbearable, I slid down a low spot in the hill and delved into the forest below.

In the shade of the Calin and the aura of the Kausim, it was actually kind of chilly. Though I had found an area which seemed more dry, my boots still occasionally sunk down into cold muck and my feet soon throbbed from the cold. What had been refreshing at first quickly became worse than the heat. The shear difference in temperature was astonishing. I was not surprised people assigned magic or divine power to this place.

With careful probing of the ground ahead using a long stick, I managed to avoid any sinking sod and I made it to the shore of the Reo with little issue. The cool breeze from the forest and the river combined with the heat of the high sun was magnificent. After catching a couple of fish, I lay down on the gravely beach and napped until the sun was lower in the sky.

I rose with the evening fog and found myself immersed. It had not looked so dense from the ridgeline on the previous night, but now, at the edge of the forest, I could hardly see my own feet. The river ran on quietly nearby within the mist and I could hear the splash of leaping fish.

I startled violently as I noticed a shadowed form lurking only feet away. Rocks slid out from beneath my feet and I fell. Part of the form snapped upright and a broad pair of polished antlers stood clear of the fog ceiling. They flickered brilliantly as the creature bounded back into the forest. I suddenly felt anxious. This place was unfamiliar to me even in the clear light of midday, but only then did I realize how alone I actually was.

I picked myself up and waded across the Reo to the island. If I was going to find my way to the grounds of the eventide tower I’d seen last night, I would need to hurry. The rising fog would soon make navigating the swampy terrain nearly impossible.

The sun seemed to fall terribly quickly then. The shallow rays cut sharp red lines through the fog and yet again the tips of the trees seemed to blaze. The dense fog spread the sunset across the ground and wrapped me in vivid hues of the dying light as though I walked among the clouds. Even amidst the terror of becoming lost or becoming the evening meal for some beast, I stood awestruck more than once.

I was in a fit of panic when I found the tower. I had completely lost any sense of direction and was simply running to find the river. Though my arms probed ahead wildly, the fog obscured the shear wall of black ahead and I ran face first into its cold surface. I felt the bones in my nose crunch together and a warm stream of blood ran down my mouth and onto my collar. The pain sent a jolt through my spine and my head reeled back.

The tower rose from the ground directly in front of me and cut a perfectly rigid swath across the orange sky. Even from up close the surface of the structure was pure black. The effect was as though I looked into it rather than at it and I felt a strong sense of vertigo as my legs became weak. I reached forward and placed a hand on the blackness to steady myself.

Though no detail could be seen, I felt an incredibly complex texture on my skin. As I slid my hand from side to side, my fingers traced series of flowing lines which spun like the ridges of a fingerprint. It felt cold and smooth like metal, but carried no sound when I wrapped my knuckles upon it. My excited breath swirled the fog around my head.

I worked my way slowly around the large perimeter of the tower while allowing my hand to glide along the surface. The air was frigid and I could hear nothing, but my breathing and my own feet squelching in the grassy muck. I guess it was about half-way around the tower when my fingers slid into a small gap which ran vertically from the ground to a point higher than I could reach. I pushed gently at first and then much harder when the surface clicked, but didn’t move. It took considerable effort, but eventually the surface on either side of the gap that I had felt began to swing inwards. Scentless air from within poured outwards and cleared the fog around me. The doors parted slowly to reveal pitch blackness equal to the outside, and yet it somehow felt infinitely darker. This blackness was not solid. If I stepped inside, it could consume me. Yet, that is what I did.

My curiosity outweighed my terror and I stepped forward into that frigid void. My damp and muddy boots slapped and squished against the floor. The sound travelled slowly to my ear and was muffled as though cotton were pressed into my ears. The floor shunned even the dim light from the threshold and my eyes saw nothing in all directions. The colours and sparks you sometimes see when closing your eyes for sleep soon began flaring up to fill the void.

I took a few steps further and felt a sickening feeling building inside me; nausea in my throat and an ache in my head. I could hear my blood pumping in my ears.

I don’t know what I hoped to find by walking into this place. My eyes were useless, and though my curiosity had brought me here, my hands now clung tightly to my side for fear of rubbing against something in the dark which surrounded me. Though it was only a few strides away, when I looked back to the door I felt a shock of terror at how far I’d walked. I quickly turned my gaze back to the void.

I regained my composure and leaned down to touch the floor. It was the only thing I could sense yet in this place and I needed more information. It felt identical to the wall I had touched outside. Again, a complex texture of intermingling ridges flowing in groups and swirling around each other. I allowed myself to focus fully on the sensation of touch as I dragged a finger through one of the ridges. After crawling for several metres I still hadn’t found an end to the ridge and I stood back up.

As I rose, the hood on my cloak fell forward and I felt a small object brush past my head before falling to the ground. A moment later I heard muffled clicking and chirping as a hidden Rozmyrn Scarbadae rolled frantically away from me, likely stuck to the path laid out by one of the countless grooves. Its carapace ground against the floor and sounded like the wooden tankard of a passed-out drunk rolling along the bar top. I followed it with my ear as it got further and further away and slowly it became too muffled to hear. Just when I thought I had lost it, I heard a faint click. This click was followed quickly by another, and another, and another, each in a descending rhythm which soon took the sound out of earshot once more. Somewhere in the darkness was another deeper and darker void where the floor gave way. Somewhere ahead was a stairway which plunged further down into even deeper darkness.

I felt my legs grow weak again as I imagined the potential scale of this space and that I could right now be standing on the edge of a hole which pierced down into eternity. I sat down hard on the ground and the metal pans in my pack rang out moments later.

The clang and clatter was swallowed by the void, but this time something else came forth: a light tapping sound reach me, but it was very hard to tell where it was coming from and how far it might have been. I sat still and listened. It was definitely getting louder, and at first, I thought it might be the chirping Scarbadae slowly working its way back towards the light of the door. However, the tapping grew quickly into more of a slapping noise. It was rapid and familiar, but not exactly rhythmic.

Even before I understood what I heard, I stood up and started backing towards the light. I began to shake with icy terror. My eyes were stretched painfully wide, probing the dark, and the sound of dozens of naked running feet grew ever closer. I turned towards the fading light of the doorway and saw that it was beginning to dim. I have never run harder in my life. For every footstep I heard, I realized the sound was likely several paces behind. I felt as though at any moment the groping hand of some monstrosity unseen should grasp me from the abyss and pull me into blackness perpetual. I heard no shouts or yells, or any evidence of some humanity that should sooth my fear. There was only the frantic run of this nocturnal horde.

I reached the diminishing threshold and turned with great speed to slam shut its darkest doors. I swear to you that I heard perhaps one hundred beasts clamouring towards me as the two doors shut, but only one made it through.

The creature was as pale as the moonlight which now shone through the tower’s fading silhouette. This creature had skin like paper and wore rags of stained clothes which hung loose from its gaunt form. White eyes looked out from a bald and bruised head.

I leapt back and swung my pack in front of me, but the creature froze immediately outside of the door - as though in shock.

As I watched, the creature crumpled in on itself and fell into a limp pile on the ground. It shrieked and squealed as its muscles wasted, blood poured out, and its pale skin turned gray while shrivelling against crumbling bones. Before I could even exhale, it had fallen completely to a pile of bones and dust.

I remember screaming. I don’t remember for how long. When I reached a hand out to steady myself against the tower I found that it had vanished along with any trace of daylight. I sat down in the muck of the swamp and stared into the pile of bones. A human skull sat lop-sided staring back with darkness in its eyes.”  

[missmeikakuna]

Bitter Beer and Very Gay Ice Cream

Rated: T

Fandom: Original Story

Relationship story: Male/Male

Description: Kei wishes he could forget the night he drunkenly made out with his male co-worker. He really does. But covering up the taste with mints and Golden Gaytime ice cream is doing nothing, and someday he's going to have to figure out what his damn sexuality is.

This is a sequel to my story Cheap Beer and Ciggie Cheeks, but you don't need to read that to understand this.

The beep of the car woke Kei up, though he had somehow driven all the way to his ex-wife’s street. He swiftly turned his head around.

“Lisa, put your seatbelt back on.”

“But Daaaaad, we’re almost here!” his daughter whined, puffing her already chubby cheeks out and kicking her little legs against his seat.

“Do you want Dad to go to jail because you couldn’t keep your seatbelt on for five minutes?” he asked as calmly as he could, ignoring the knots in his brain. Lisa huffed but put her seatbelt on. “Good girl. You wouldn’t want your mother to be upset.”

He pulled up in Jane’s driveway and got out of the car. After hugging Lisa goodbye he looked up at Jane and immediately reached into his pocket for a mint.

Jane took Lisa by the hand and rested her remaining hand on her hip, laughing a little. “I’ve never seen someone so addicted to mints. Those are actually mints, right?” she asked as she stood in front of her daughter. Their daughter. Kei nodded, looking down as he gulped two mints at a time. 

That taste was still in his mouth three weeks later. Well, it wasn’t technically still there, but his stupid little brain kept reminding him of it every time he looked at Jane. The taste of bitter beer and the failure it induced.

He didn’t just take mints upon seeing Jane. After all, it wasn’t Jane who caused the taste in the first place.

He still refused to talk to Terrence unless he absolutely needed to at work but just seeing him stirred up a great need to take more mints. He was going to get the mix of his Victoria Bitter and Terrence’s Grand Ridge Supershine from that fateful night out of his mind, even if it gave him diabetes in the process.

Jane saw the way Kei held his arms in, his head facing the ground, and asked him to come inside with her and Lisa. She chortled at his wide eyes.

Her house was narrow but tall, with two stories, smooth grey walls, simple vertical windows and a black, white and red modern interior. Upstairs looked considerably less modern with princess dolls, plush animals and action figures scattered on the Fanta-stained carpet. The only thing downstairs that looked messy that day was the unfinished Tim Tam on the kitchen bench. 

As Kei took off his jacket and sat down in the living room, Jane headed to the bench to finish the chocolate biscuit and turn on the kettle. She took out her phone and handed it to Lisa, suggesting she put her headphones on and play a game. Lisa squealed and ran upstairs, clutching the phone like it was a precious artifact she discovered on an adventure through the jungle. Jane put two mugs on the bench and dropped a tea bag in each one.

“Do you still like green tea?” she asked after the fact. Kei grunted his yes, causing her to sigh.

While waiting for the kettle to boil and taking advantage of the rumbling sound it made, she sat on the couch next to Kei’s chair.

“Okay, what’s up? You’ve been different for a couple of weeks now so don’t try to pretend it’s nothing.” Kei was silent. “You haven’t been like this since we were married. What, did you remarry without me noticing?” Jane believed Kei’s shake of the head. “So what is it? You’re like…” She instinctively looked up the stairs for a second and lowered her voice. “You’re like the scared man you were in our bed. You’re not going through a midlife crisis or something like that, are you? I don’t think Lisa’s ready for something like that.”

Kei smiled like he was about to laugh, but didn’t go through with it. “Define ‘crisis’.”

“Tell me what’s going on and I’ll let you know if it counts.”

Kei leaned back until his head rested on the top of the chair. With the voice of a mail carrier picking up a heavy package, he said, “Just something I’ve got to work through. I’ll be fine, I swear.”

Another sigh from Jane. She said nothing but looked at Kei’s pale face and sunken-in eyes. His once ever-present dimples had hidden underneath a frown. Gone were the big gestures and nostrils that jumped up and down from his constant laughter. Gone was the smooth talker she fell in love with years ago.

The kettle clicked and Jane stood up to pour hot water into the mugs. After handing Kei his tea and sitting down, she drank and waited. And waited. And waited.

“Look, are you going to spill what’s been going on or not?” Kei looked at his distorted reflection in the tea and kept his mouth shut. “Whatever it is, you can tell me any time. You’re still my friend, okay?” Kei nodded and smiled, but with real feeling this time. His dimples finally showed themselves.

That expression soon disappeared when he remembered what he said to Terrence at work before going to the bar.

"Hey, you've got a pretty nice smile. You should wear it more often.”

Of course, he meant nothing strange when he said that. But did Terrence know that? Kei found his answer when he pressed his fingertips against his own lips and tasted the Supershine-VB blend again. 

Once again he reached for his mints but this time Jane smacked his hand away. “You don’t need them. Your breath is fine.”

Kei leaned forward until his arms were on top of his knees, swirling around the mug in his hand. As he responded his swirling got faster and faster.

“You’ve got it all wrong. It’s not about my breath.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“W-well-”

“Muuuuuuuuum! Make me fairy bread!” The two parents heard little feet run down the stairs.

“Please?” Kei suggested with a gentle smile.

Lisa crossed her arms and puffed her cheeks again. “Please.”

He put his hand behind her head, guided her towards him and kissed her forehead. “Good girl.” He stood up and placed the half-full mug down. “I’ll get going. See you both Saturday.” He slipped his jacket back on.

“Wait, we’re not done talking,” Jane said.

Kei grinned at her. “You’ve said plenty.” He clicked his fingers, making the shape of a gun with his hand. “Thank you.”

When he arrived home, he spent an hour lying in bed. He stared at his cracked ceiling, which he hadn’t bothered to fix because his mind was on something else, the same thing that caused him to lie in his bed staring at the ceiling.

His house was usually spotless, with clean country-style furniture that contrasted against the industrial exterior of the building. But over the course of three weeks, takeout boxes and plastic cups had piled up around his living room. Lisa didn’t complain and Jane hadn’t seen the inside of his house in months, so he saw no reason to.

However, whenever he looked at the state of his home, he would call himself one word over and over.

“Obsessed.”

That afternoon, he forced himself out of bed. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” he said aloud despite no one being there to hear him, his ex-wife’s declaration of friendship playing in his mind like a world leader’s inspirational speech. He stumbled over to the bathroom and washed his face. He put on a smile big enough for his dimples to show and winked at his own reflection as if he was talking to May from work. After all, she was still cute, right?

Work the next day went smoothly. As per usual, Kei didn’t talk to Terrence, who kept his head down and ignored him like a good boy. Kei got a fair bit done with time to spare. He used that time to sneak into his coworkers’ cubicles and chatter about various things with them.

May even said, “You’re back. I missed happy Kei. What happened?”

Kei rubbed the back of his neck and laughed but told her nothing.

That was how the first half of the day went. Lunch was when it all went downhill. He and May were chatting in the lounge room when a jittery Terrence brushed past him in the room. Seeing that put Kei’s heart in an apple slinky machine but he had to keep a happy face and talk to May about his nostalgia for classic rock and how he was teaching his daughter how to fish. By the time Ian shouted for everyone to get back to work, sweat was dripping down Kei’s forehead like he already needed another break.

When he got back to work Ian yelled at him for getting something wrong. The worst part was when the yelling transformed into a hushed hiss.

“You lot are supposed to be smart, eh?” he asked as he quirked one corner of his mouth up and pushed his eyebrows up and down. The question felt more like an order.

Kei wondered if HR had taught Ian how to whisper.

He remained silent throughout the torrent of abuse and then had to work with the efficiency of someone who hadn’t just been yelled at. He couldn’t help but smile a little by the end of his shift, though. Working and thinking about Ian’s words did provide a welcome distraction.

Gary, the insensitive son of a bitch, came into Kei’s cubicle and asked, “Hey, you wanna go to the bar with the others? You haven’t been in a while.”

Bar. Alcohol. Victoria Bitter. Supershine. Tongue.

Kei’s cheeks flared up, prompting him to grab his little tin of mints. “Nah, I’m…. I’m good. You lot have fun.”

Gary stood there for a few seconds and opened his mouth but didn’t end up saying anything. He sighed and left him alone.

Instead of following him, Kei headed to his car and was about to go in when he saw an ice cream shop nearby. The faint smell of butterscotch tickled his nose and presented a worthy alternative to the peppermint he kept swallowing.

Then again, with the mints he practically chugged every day and now ice cream, developing diabetes was a distinct possibility.

But then the butterscotch was overpowered by rich chocolate and Kei found himself shambling like a zombie towards the ice cream shop. When he opened the door, he was reminded of what the inside of a liquor store’s freezer room was like, but it was so cool and refreshing that he didn’t feel the need to cleanse the split-second thought of alcohol with a mint. The rush of cool air brought with it the scent of caramel, chocolate, vanilla, strawberry and several more obscure flavours. 

He looked around the room and saw three display freezers, one smaller than the other two. The two larger ones had a wide selection of ice creams in different tubs, while the smaller one contained various brands of ice cream on sticks. Above that small freezer was a sign indicating a sale on a particular brand of ice cream, but he couldn’t read which one from where he stood. In front of the freezers were multiple tables. Long benches were bolted to two walls beside the tables, accompanied by stools one would see in a diner in the 1950s.

Several families sat at the tables, some children happily chatting and others arguing with each other over the right to have some of each other’s flavours. The outlier, a lone middle-aged man, sat by the bench, wobbling on the stool as he tried to keep his large frame on it. He was stuffing his face with strawberry ice cream in a big paper cup. Next to him were two empty sticks and wrappers.

Kei’s heart twisted all over again. Of course it had to be him.

Terrence saw him and waved with a grin the size of the paper cup on his bench. Immediately after doing that he gulped air and looked back down at his ice cream. Kei’s initial instinct was to ignore him as per usual, but some unknown force pushed him towards him. Or perhaps it pulled him towards him.

He sat on the stool beside him. “Didn’t expect to see someone from work here.”

Terrence swallowed the ice cream in his mouth. “Yeah, this place is pretty great. By the way, there’s a special on Golden Gaytimes today. I might buy another one.”

Kei shifted his gaze from the softly smiling Terrence to the empty wrappers on the table and, naturally, they were from Golden Gaytimes.

Kei coughed. “G...Gay...times, huh?”

Terrence chuckled and patted Kei on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. The Golden Gaytime is an Australian classic. If this ice cream makes you gay, then all of Australia’s been gay since 1959.”

Laughter tumbled out of Kei’s mouth. “You know the exact year and everything? You an ice cream aficionado or something?”

Terrence winced and blushed but joined in the laughter. “Maybe. In New Zealand, they call it the Cookie Crumble instead of Golden Gaytime. I mean, Jesus, first you take our Pavlova and act like you invented it and then you take our best ice cream but give it a shittier name? This is why I never leave this country.” 

He gasped through his nose and took another bite of his strawberry ice cream. “I mean, you know, I could go to Japan. Seems like a cool place.” With his head facing his cup as he finished the ice cream, he looked up at Kei for approval. Kei’s dimples returned and Terrence’s body relaxed. “Don’t, uh, tell anyone at work about this. I must look pretty pathetic to you, comfort eating like this.”

Kei stood up and patted him on the back. “I’d be a hypocrite if I did that. I came here to do the exact same thing. I’ll be back in a second.”

“Oh. Wait a second.” Terrence reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, slipping some coins into Kei’s hand. “Get me a Gaytime. It’s my last one for today, I promise.”

Kei obliged and even got himself a Golden Gaytime. After handing one to Terrence, the two ate in silence. Kei’s tongue became engulfed in toffee, vanilla, chocolate and biscuit crumbs. He breathed slowly with contentment. 

Terrence eventually broke the silence. “Work troubles? Is that why you’re comfort eating?” Kei nodded. “Same here. I swear Ian’s the garlic ice cream of people.”

“I know, right? The absolute worst. Wait, garlic ice cream’s a thing? Please don’t tell me you put something like that in your body. And I thought you had no hobbies. When did you become this ice cream expert?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call being the most cliche fat person in existence a hobby,” Terrence replied with a chuckle. “I only started looking up stuff about ice cream a few weeks ago, after… well… after I came here to forget about you.”

Kei’s entire body was lit aflame. The pounding of his heart in his ears quickly gave him a headache. The taste of Supershine took over his taste buds faster than the ice cream in his mouth could cover it, so he picked up the speed of his eating. He finished off the frozen treat so quickly that he gave himself a brain freeze.

“I-I see. Sorry,” he said hoarsely as he repeatedly slammed his hand on the bench. He touched the back of his teeth with his tongue in the hope of stopping the freeze.

Terrence waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it, mate. I’ll be over you in a coupla weeks and you won’t have to worry about a thing. Maybe less than that if you keep acting differently.”

Kei looked away and scratched his cheek. “You noticed that, huh?”

Terrence froze for a second and then dropped his shoulders. “Yeah. Sorry. I swore to myself that I’d stop watching you when I’m eating lunch, but I just can’t help it. I don’t know what’s been bugging you since work hasn’t gotten any worse lately, but keep being bugged. I’ll soon get bored of watching some guy act all depressed.”

“You’ve changed a little too. You’re a little more… what’s it called… open, I guess? How did that happen?”

Terrence pointed to the now three empty ice cream wrappers and Kei understood immediately.

They said goodbye to each other and Kei drove home. In his car, the image of Terrence blushing and getting excited talking about ice cream stuck to his mind. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

“Adorable,” he whispered and, right after that word escaped his mouth, he stopped the car for a second, right in the middle of the road. Car horns blared from behind him and he went back to driving.

He swore under his breath. He hadn’t called an adult adorable since divorcing Jane. Yes, Jane. A woman he used to be in love with. A woman.

He remembered a question Terrence had asked him when Kei declared, during the next time they saw each other after that drunken makeout session, that he was, in fact, not gay.

"Are you… bisexual?"

He hadn’t admitted it during that conversation, but a voice in the back of his head had screamed that Terrence was spot on. When Terrence left, another voice had then argued with the first.

‘Jesus Christ, you’re not thirteen. You’re in your bloody forties and now’s not the time to be having some sort of sexual reawakening. You’re not fucking bisexual. Grow up.’

A third voice had chanted in Japanese.

‘What about Ayumu? What about Ayumu?’

The second voice had been quick to retort to that.

‘Doesn’t count. Experimenting in college doesn’t mean anything. You were both young and stupid, not middle-aged men with full time jobs and shit. And besides, it’s not like you really liked Ayumu. He just liked you.’

That response hadn’t been enough to shield Kei from the flurry of memories about Ayumu and his stupid mischievous smirk and his stupid Terrence-like face and his stupid, stupid sexual skill.

Now that Kei was in his car, the memories came back and spread heat throughout his body. He groaned and his knees bumped up and down as he tried to concentrate on the road.

When he reached home, he grinned. He hadn’t felt this young in years. He spent the next twenty minutes in solitary bliss, his thoughts gradually transitioning from Ayumu to Terrence.

As soon as that ended, shame slammed into him with the force of a ute. He went back to his old habit of staring at the cracked ceiling. He thought of his parents back in Japan. He hadn’t called them in ages and now he was doing this while thinking of things like that?

After an hour of moping about, his stomach grumbled, but before preparing dinner he washed his hands and called Jane.

He waited and waited. He exhaled and let his shoulders down when he thought she picked up the phone.

“You’re speaking to Jane Pearce. I can’t come to the phone right now, so please leave a ten-second message after the beep.”

He heard the beep before he even had time to be disappointed. 

“H-Hi Jane, it’s Kei. I really want to talk to you about something. It can wait until tomorrow but I need to get it off my chest and work through some things so I kind of need your help. I don’t know if I’ll be able to actually tell you when the time comes but-”

Another beep. “Shit.”

The next day arrived and he tried to look at and be friendly to Terrence, but every time he saw him he got run over by that shame and had to look away.

Luckily, Jane called him soon after work. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Uh, well, you see… Can I talk to you about this in person? Like, today?”

“I guess so. Lisa did a lot of running around today so she’s having a nap.”

“Thank you.”

He drove to her house and she prepared him some tea. They drank quietly for a moment before Kei finally started talking. “Um, you know when we were talking about me possibly having a midlife crisis?” She nodded and placed her hand on his. “Uh, well, I was wondering…” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Does bisexuality count as a midlife crisis?”

“I’m sorry, what? How is… Oh... Oh! I didn’t know… huh?”

Kei did something he hadn’t done in years: bow. “I’m sorry. I just… shit. This is what’s been worrying me all this time.” 

Jane grabbed his arm and pushed his upper body up. “What… what should I say? Thank you for telling me, I guess. Why’d you start worrying about this now, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I… God, I... “ Kei started trembling a little. “Honestly, to find this out about me this late in the game,” he said as rubbed one side of his face up and down with his hand. He took another sip of his tea. “You probably don’t want to hear about this from your ex.”

“I’ll survive. You’re my friend, remember?”

“Yeah. You’re right. You see… there’s this man, and…. God, I think I’m… at this point it isn’t even falling head over heels, it’s falling arse over tit. I’m a mess. You’re the only person I’ve told. I even lied to him about it.”

“Wow, that’s… quite the honour. You haven’t even told your parents before me?”

Kei slammed his mug onto the coffee table. “No way! I’m never telling them. I’ll just have to wait until they die.” His eyes widened and he began pulling at his own hair. “But, shit, they’re Japanese people with a good diet! How long are they going to live and how long will I have to keep this a secret? I should have called them but this has kinda distracted me.”

“You don’t have to tell them, but you should at least call them. They probably miss you a whole lot.”

“You’re right. But I want to make things right with Terrence first. Before it’s too late. Oh, he’s the man.” Kei laughed awkwardly. “I’ve kind of been avoiding him.”

Jane rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You’ve been what? Is he straight?”

“No, he’s gay, or at least gay for me. But if he gets over me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Footsteps raced downstairs. “Muuuuum! Wait, Dad’s here? Is he picking me up early?” Lisa walked up to Kei and lightly touched under his eyes. “Why are you crying?” she asked with a face contorted with confusion bordering on disgust.

Kei blinked quickly and finally felt the tears on his cheeks. “I was crying?” He turned his head to Jane. “How long for?”

Jane smirked. “About a minute.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The colour of Kei’s face made him look like he’d just spent several days in the Gold Coast during the height of Summer with no sunscreen. 

“I’d never seen you cry before. It was refreshing.”

“You bitch- uh, sorry, Lisa.” He stroked her hair. Lisa still looked dumbfounded.

“Would you like me to tell her?” Jane asked, finishing off her tea.

“Why would you want to do that? She’s a kid!”

“So? I’ve raised her to be open-minded.  Have you not been doing that?” Jane leaned in closer with narrow eyes.

“I-I’ve been an excellent father. Haven’t I, Lisa? You like hanging out with Dad, don’t you?”

Lisa nodded. “But your house is a lot messier than Mum’s.” Kei flinched. “There’s food and boxes everywhere.”

Jane stood up and glared at Kei with the power of a kangaroo’s legs. “What did she say? Do you want CPS to come knocking down your door? Having a midlife crisis or whatever this is is no excuse for not putting Lisa in the best environment for her development! Let me guess, you didn’t read the parenting books I sent you, did you?”

Kei held his hands up as if to shield himself. “Calm down, Jane-”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! This is your daughter! Our daughter!” With that sentence, Jane put her hands on her hips. “As soon as you get home, you’re going to clean up your house and tomorrow you’re sorting things out with Terrence and calling your parents! I shouldn’t have to mother you at this age. You’re a grown man and I thought you were responsible!”

“Alright, alright!” Kei picked up his coat and kissed Lisa’s forehead. “I’ll see you both on Saturday.”

Kei followed Jane’s order to clean his house and as soon as he was done he wiped the sweat from his forehead and beamed at the open space. Everything was back to normal. Well, almost everything.

In the middle of their lunch break the next day, Kei asked Terrence to chat outside the employee lounge. They stood by the door.

“What is it?” Terrence asked. He looked down and frowned. “Did I stare at you too much? I’m sorry.”

Seeing Terrence’s concerned face and red cheeks made Kei wonder if he should see a doctor with how fast his own heart was beating.

“No, it’s just… I…” Kei coughed. “I should be the one apologising. I’m the one who ignored you for so long.”

“It’s okay. I get it. I told you I’ll get over you soon. Then we can go back to how things were.”

“I don’t know if I want…” Another cough from Kei. He tried to get the words out but couldn’t. Instead, he looked side to side before pushing Terrence into a wall not visible from the window of the lounge door. He leaned in closer, almost touching his lips, but he stopped himself and stepped back.

“Sorry. I don’t want HR to get the wrong idea.” He turned around and began to walk back to the lounge but Terrence grabbed him by the shoulder.

“It’s fine! Go ahead. You can kiss me if you want.”

Instead of kissing him immediately, Kei wrapped his arms around his torso and gave him a big, strong hug. Terrence loosened the hug and initiated the kiss. It was soft and chaste, yet Kei could still taste a hint of blueberries from the yoghurt Terrence ate. Warmth from his heart spread throughout his entire body until he felt as if he’d just chucked on ten blankets and started watching his favourite childhood movie while it rained outside. For the first time in three weeks, he felt no need to to take a mint.

“What’s going on, eh?”

Terrence and Kei’s shoulders and back became as stiff as bamboo. They immediately let go of each other. Ian stared at them with a sneer and a scrunched up face.

“Nothing!” The couple said in unison.

Ian scoffed a laugh. “Sure, sure.” He waved his hands. “Do whatever, so long as you don’t let it interfere with work. Wanna be poofs, be poofs. It’s the 21st century.”

Kei’s legs shook, fumes coming out of his ears. 

Poofs.

That word was so light and yet it dropped a painful weight onto him. Since moving to Australia, certain words followed him. He’d been called a ‘cunt’ as both an honest insult and a fun, irreverent joke. He’d been called a ‘drop kick’ a couple of times and always returned that insult with another. The word ‘dag’ was basically fused to his soul. But ‘poof’? The sound of that word, fluffy as a cloud, seemed like it was designed to hurt no one, so why did it get under Kei’s skin like no insult ever had?

He turned towards Terrence and saw no reaction to the word. Part of him wanted to get angry with him. The word applied to him more, right? Why wasn’t he frothing at the mouth?

But then he remembered something. Terrence was simply called a poof. Ian never said ‘you lot’ to him followed by some stereotype, at least not yet. Kei was no longer just ‘you lot’; he was ‘you lot’ and a ‘poof’ at once.

Kei’s fists hurt from being clenched so tightly. “Then what about my race? Is that not included in this century?” As soon as he asked that, he froze with moon-sized eyes.

Ian stormed up to them. “What did you say to me?”

Kei’s heart went cold and dropped down into his stomach. The rest of his body joined his legs to tremble in solidarity. He put on a smile but not one big enough to show his dimples.

Terrence gave Kei’s shoulder several gentle squeezes. “He just wants to be able to work without you bringing his race into everything.” With a smooth, controlled voice, Kei assumed Terrence looked as confident and manly as Kei did not feel at that moment, but when he turned towards him, he saw that he was shaking as well.

“Come on, that’s just a joke. He’s lived here awhile. He knows I’m just being a larrikin.”

Kei shook his head. “It doesn’t feel like that sometimes. I don’t want to report you to HR, but if this keeps happening, I will do it.”

Ian glared at them before turning around and leaving them. Kei hugged Terrence in thanks, basking in the warmth that the man’s arms provided.

Terrence looked at his watch. ‘1:24.’ There was still time. He hesitated before taking Kei’s hand. He cocked his head towards the lounge and Kei nodded, the dimples on his cheeks and the wrinkles by his eyes finally showing.

They chatted by the water cooler and Kei made a grand gesture to show the size of the fish Lisa caught. Terrence instinctively clapped, causing Kei’s nostrils to jump up and down again.

After work, Kei called his parents. “Hi, sorry it’s been so long. Yeah, I’m good.” His father commented in a coarse voice that Kei sounded happy. “I do?” Kei asked with a laugh. His mother asked him with a chipper voice if it was because he found a new wife. Kei laughed again, grabbing Terrence’s hand. “Well, uh, not exactly. I did start seeing someone, though. H… He’s pretty great.” The other end was silent. “Mama, Papa? Are you okay?”

“Yes, it’s just… did you say ‘he’?” his mother asked. “That’s unexpected. So you’re a… what’s the word?”

Papa pitched in. “Homo? Is that the right word?”

“No, Papa,” Kei said with a sigh, though he admittedly had to take a few seconds to remember the Japanese term. “I’m bisexual. Are you mad at me?”

“No, we’re just worried,” Mama said. “We want you to be happy. You won’t be able to marry this man, right?”

Kei’s limbs stopped shaking as relief swept over him. “Mama, it’s a bit too early for that. And I could in Australia if I wanted to.”

“Really? Then good luck! And send us some souvenirs! Talk to us next week!”

After saying goodbye and hanging up, Kei took Terrence by the hand to the pub where everything changed. Gary and their other work pals Pete, Dave and Bob were waiting for them, already chugging beers with the exception of Pete, who was on sober duty that night. They immediately made room for the two of them. 

“You gonna get a Supershine again?” Kei asked Terrence, who shook his head and went up to order a Crown. Kei followed him to the bar and pretended to sulk. “I miss the taste already.”

Terrence’s cheeks looked like the end of a ciggie. “You’ll have to get used to tasting Crown with your VB. I’m not getting a hangover that bad again.” He turned to Kei. “I didn’t just say that, did I?”

Kei burst out laughing. He heard a familiar song playing in the bar and started dancing his silly little dance.

“Come on, Terry, join me, ya cunt!”

Terrence chuckled and left his bottle with the others before doing what Kei said. It was just two dags dancing badly to an old song and ignoring anyone in the bar who dared to stare at them. And they didn’t need mints or multiple rounds of beer or even ice cream to do it.

[alliebruns-blog]

The Namibia/Panama Crossings - Man vs Table Mountain, Day 7

Coming back to the real will after being in what was essentially semi-solitary confinement for 5 days was weird. We were all in a sort of daze at the cars and shops and people of Swapkomund. Having a proper shower was the best thing ever. We were all completely exhausted. That night we went out for dinner with the crew and then slept, before getting up and attempting to sort out our filthy, sand and mud covered kit. I would like to apologise to whoever had to clean those rooms. After stuffing it all into bags the best we could, we headed out for the tiny airport and caught a (very delayed) flight to Cape Town, where we would spend one night before attempting the big 3 - Signal Hill , Lions Head  and Table Mountain 

The idea was to see how long it would take us to get up and over all 3 on foot (spoiler - it took me over 5 hours). This time, the victims were just Darren and myself - Dani and Jim made the genius decision to take the time to recover, and handsome Pete had to head home - so apologies for all the rubbish pictures. My personal photographer had better things to do. The idea was to get up early and start the run and then head straight to the airport to catch our flight back to the UK where we would have 6 hours to wait before out flight to Panama. In that time we would have to swap out kit - we had left our Panama kit in the back of Jim’s car at Heathrow. We were going to try and dump the Namibia stuff we wouldn’t use, and pack the essential Panama kit we needed. Hectic right? 

The thing about air travel is that unless you are travelling in business it is NOT conducive to recovery after these huge runs. Every flight is painful. Trying to sleep while your legs ached and pinged, worrying you would not get enough rest to be able to attempt what was coming next. I would go as far as to say the flights were actually part of the challenge. Especially when they hadn't changed the film choices. 

At dinner the night before the run, we discussed the route. We were to head up and over Signal Hill, up and over Lions Head and then up to the top of Table Mountain and get the cable car down. It was over 6,000ft of elevation across 9 miles on very tired legs, up hills with my favourite things in the world on them - ridges. Ridges and drops. I tried to block out this thought by drinking wine. That was the sensible thing to do. 

The next morning Darren and I set off after breakfast, along roads and straight up the worlds longest steps. They weren’t  ACTUALLY the worlds longest, they just felt like it. 

And so it begins......again......

I was already NOT HAVING NICE TIME. There are no proper paths up Signal Hill - you sort of scrabble up and I didn’t like it at all. To be frank, Signal Hill is a bit of a shit show on the edge of Cape Town. There are NO tourists there, loads of littler and it feel like the sort of place I used to go and drink Strongbow when I was 13. I was tired and scared of the ledges that were up ahead of me. Once at the top, there was an amazing view of Lions Head and Table Mountain. As beautiful as it was, I was still bricking it.  I decided there and then I was not going to get too the top of Lions Head - I would be too scared and it wasn’t worth it. It’s important to know your limits, and and I know that getting up there would mean nothing to me except a possible panic attack and having to be rescued. I would go as far as I could, and then loop round and come down. I didn’t need to stand on the top of a tiny rock to prove anything to anyone. 

Signal Hill from the bottom of Lions Head 

Lions Head and table mountain in the background

It was a beautiful day with amazing visibility, and Darren was loving it - he’s a big fan of rocks and ridges - and this just made me feel even more shit. Why couldn’t I be more like him? Why did I have such an issue with drops and ledges? I felt like a total idiot. I felt, once again, like I wasn’t good enough. I let Darren run on ahead of me like a fell goat, and I plodded on feeling like Mr Blobby at a Crossfit session. I tried to take in the views, but at the back of my mind I felt like a bit of a failure. 

Camps Bay from halfway up Lions Head 

Some nice, “technical” trail.....

The trail up to Lions Head starts very friendly and lovely, but soon turns into craggy rocks on the edge of a big hill. There are people coming down towards you as you go up - I hate this - and so I focused on the floor. I imagined all the tourists laughing at me huffing my way up in running gear. Every now and again, I would look up at the view whilst leaning on the solid side of the mountain to avoid the possibility I might throw myself off. It was both mesmerising and terrifying. I probably got about 500 ft from the summit before I stopped and hid on a ledge for a bit. I waited for Darren to come back down for 10 mins, but them decided to make my own way down and head up Table Moutain. I had stupidly run out of water and it was very hot. 

Views alright though......

The trot down was a lot easier - the paths were wider and they were runable but my legs were shattered and running hurt. How the hell was I supposed to do another 300km on them? At the bottom of Lions Head, I crossed the road the saw there was a tap that was dripping water, so I filled up my flasks and started to try and find the trail up Table Mountain. At this point it all looked a bit like the New Forest, and after a few false starts I found the trail that would take me up - and joy of joys it was ALL steps. ARGH! STEPS! 

Table Mountain trails 

I was totally on my own now, and I felt better for it - I could take it at my pace and get on with what I needed to do - and that was get to the top. I could be as slow as I wanted, as long as I got there. This is a reminder that you are the one that judges yourself, and yes it is easier to do that negatively when other people are there, but ultimately you have control over your thoughts. The flora and vegetation were beautiful and I decided to try and enjoy it - and for a little while, I did. 

There were some amazing bushes and flowers and hardly anyone else on the trail. I met a good few lizard friends, some of them bright green and red, some of them blending into the rocks. The path up to Table Mountain is steep - steeper than Snowdon - but loops round, with little waterfalls everywhere and places to sit for a minute. And then the sheer drops start.

Hullo?

Spot the lizard.....

Regular readers of this blog (all 3 of you - hi mum!) will know that I have this stupid fear of heights and drops. I have tried and tried to get over it - most notably last year when I had a near meltdown on Arran. I don't know what it is about them, but I am terrified of big drops, narrow paths and cliff edges. I feel like I am going to either fall down or throw myself off. I have to use my hands to guide me, stare at the rock face and not look down. It’s ridiculous. The thing about being halfway up Table Mountain when the ridges start is you can’t do anything about it - you either get to the top or you go back. And I was NOT going back. Because that would mean looking down. The funny thing is, looking back on this as I write it, the vertical scrambles seemed like the hardest thing the world. They were, on reflection, simply a tasty warm up for what was to come in Panama. 

Some of the ascent featured vertical scrambles up rocks - I used my bands and tried to control my breathing and be nice to all the people coming down the other way. I tried to make funny jokes with them, but my voice sounded weird. I was hungry now - really hungry - and because it had been billed as 9 miles I hadn’t bought anything to eat with me. The hunger and anxiety bought on the shakes. I’m a fucking idiot sometimes. As I turned a corner I could see the cloud was coming in - sweeping the top of the mountain, and I was headed straight for it. Suddenly I heard my name being shouted from behind me - it was Darren. I could have sworn he was in front of me?? He had been doing parkour or some shit at the top of Lions Head, and so WAS actually behind me and he had FOOD! He stopped and checked to see if I was ok (I wasn’t), chucking me a few shot bloks  and a bit of cliff bar (noms) and then trotted off ahead of me - like the fell goat he is. In my head I had thought I was near the summit - turns out I was still an hour away and now I couldn’t see the summit. All I could see was cloud.

Staring up into hell.....

I dealt with the next couple of miles by counting steps, resting when I could and trying to stay calm. I wished I had bought my headphones. Eventually, the vertical scrambles stopped and I realised I was at the top. In the cloud. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face and was convinced I was going to fall off the edge. The top of Table Moutain is of course, flat. I was not going to fall anywhere. There was no edge.

Finally at the top. 

Cloud hiding the imaginary edge 

I followed the path until suddenly the cloud completely cleared and I could see the cafe and cable car at the top. Thank fuck. I had done it - I was there. I met up with Darren and went straight to the cafe for a rehydration beer. I met some of the locals who live at the top of the mountain - the dassies - fun little animals that look like a cross between a gerbil and a beaver. They lounge around on the rocks at the top. They are funny. They are brave. 

Gah! Lassies!

View from the top.....

Cable car down......

What is also funny (or not) is the way I processed what I had just done. I didn’t congratulate myself for getting there, I beat my self up for how long it had taken me and what a total wimp I had been. I managed to take some photos from the top, and did a little ‘positive vibes’ video for the Bad Boy Running lot, but ultimately, my overall feeling was disappointment in myself for not having done it better. I was tired, physically and mentally from the previous week, and possibly (no shit) irrational at this point, but I just felt massively disappointed with myself. I still sort of do. 

We got the cable car down and met up with Jim and Dani who droves us and our sweaty, disgusting selves to the airport. We were due to fly from Cape Town back to Heathrow and I need a shower. BUT there was a water shortage in Cape Town so all the showers at the airport were switched off. The thought of sitting on plane for 10 hours in this state made me want to cry. But superhero Jim to the rescue - he managed to smuggle both me and Darren into the business class lounge for showers and food. 

So that was it - goodbye South Africa. Man Vs Table Mountain is definitely worth doing if you like that wort of thing. Believe me, I will go back and do it again. I will keep doing the things that scare me until they don't scare me anymore. That might mean I am doing them forever, but so be it. 

The plane arrives and I sleep for the full 10 hours home.  Which is good because shit is about to get really, really real. 

Pretending to have a nice time at the top of Table Mountain. 

[gaytonystark]

Missing You

Pairing: Thor x Reader Words: 2,933 A/N: Wrote this for @lady-thor-foster ‘s writing challenge and also I’m just a slut for Thor nowadays. I hope you like it and gimme some feedback maybe???

The streets were relatively empty thanks to the poor weather so you took advantage of the low foot traffic to run some errands. Gray skies loomed above you, but you found comfort in the dreary sky as it watched over you. The fallen rain squeaked under your boots as you headed home with your bags of groceries. Your raincoat protected you from the last few persistent rain drops from the storm that was finally letting up. Thunder clouds still loomed overhead, letting you know that rain would soon start up again. With this in mind, you decided to head home so you wouldn't’ have to have to haul your things through the heavy rainfall.

Your apartment building came into view and you fished your keys out of your pocket. Some thunder began to boom in the distance just as the rain began to pick up again. You got inside, set your bags down, and shook the rain off your coat before hanging it up to drip dry. The only sounds that could be heard were the drops of water as they hit your hardwood floor, but something felt off.

Slowly, you walked to the kitchen, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. You rounded the corner to your kitchen with baited breath and you heard the faint sounds of someone’s strained breathing. The closer you got, the more familiar that breathing sounded so you sped up your pace. Your fear only grew as you entered the kitchen and saw a large form laying on the ground.

“Hey, Y/N, I was wondering when you would be returning home.” Thor said, his head held up just enough to look up at you as he lay on his back.

“Yeah I just had to pop out for a minute.” You said, stunned at the site before you. “Had I known I was expecting visitors, I would’ve made other arrangements.”

“All the same, I am just happy to see you.” He shot you his most winning smile before it was replaced with a grimace.

“Uh, hey Thor, I don’t know if you know this but you’re bleeding on my floor?” You asked, confused as to why Thor hadn’t provided a reason as to why he was currently bleeding out in your apartment.

“Ah yes, how could I forget.” He said, equally as surprised at his current situation, “What happened was I was attacked and now I am here.”

“Ok sure that clears it up.” It definitely did not, but you didn’t want to waste anymore time on the formalities while your friend lay dying in your kitchen. “Why don’t we get you up off the floor and into a chair.”

“Of course, here just take my hand.” You took his outstretched hand and began to pull him up. The task of getting the God of Thunder up was proving to be much easier said than done.

“You’ve lost some weight, haven’t you?” You asked, grunting under the effort of getting him vertical.

“Have I?” Thor looked mildly offended as he let you yank him up.

“God no, I was just trying to be polite, but you cut your hair.” You draped one of his meaty arms around your shoulder and led him to your dining table. With a solid shove, you pushed him into a chair where he landed with a groan. “It looks good short.”

“Thanks and that’s great to hear, I thought I was looking a little too lean lately.” Thor said, examining himself as he sat down.

“Is that even possible?” You caught your breath and sat down opposite one of your closest friends. “Now do you want to tell me why you’re here.”

“I’m hurt and I don’t trust anyone else to heal me.” Thor said simply, clutching at his side. “As much as I have come to trust Stark and his methods, his Midgardian sense is not so keen in these matters.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, but you had to admit that you were a little flattered. “I think you forgot the part where I am also a Midgardian with the same sense. You’re a god, Thor, you really should be at the compound so they can fix you.

“Y/N, you know as well as I that you are no simple Midgardian.” He reached across the table and held your hand, gazing into your eyes and you swear to this day that you saw an entire galaxy in them. “Your eyes see beyond what is there and your abilities are more than those of even Tony Stark with all his gadgetry.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Odinson,” You said, a smile playing at your lips, “but it will get you healed so just sit tight.” You let go of his hand as you ran to your room to dig out everything you would need to heal a god.

Thor was the only one that knew about your whereabouts after you left the Avengers when everyone found out. It was kinda his fault, but you didn’t hold against him. It was an accident after all.

He didn’t mean to expose you when he blurted it out to the team because he thought they knew you were a witch of sorts. You were stood by the door in the conference room, waiting to be dismissed while The Avengers finished their briefing. Your role was to silently take note of everything happening then disappear to finish your other duties on the compound. This was the boring part of your job, but you seldom complained because Tony Stark was paying you way more than he should. Every meeting was the same, Steve talked, Tony made a comment, Natasha dozed off, Clint flicked a piece of paper at her to wake up, but Thor listened attentively since this was his first meeting since coming back from Asgard. All the same, you documented all the happenings in painstaking detail until something unexpected broke your focus.

“And what role does the witch play in all this?” Thor asked abruptly, bringing you out of your distracted daze and pointing a finger to you. Everyone looked at you wide eyed then back to Thor who had no idea what he had just done.

“I mean she likes to get an attitude with me sometimes, but I wouldn’t call her that, Thor.” Tony said, jumping to your defense.

“Oh no, I only meant to ask how her powers will contribute.” Thor said, clarifying further but only causing more confusion.

“Powers? What powers? What is he talking about, Y/N?” Steve asked and your face went bright red as you tried to hide your embarrassment.

“I don’t-I mean that there’s um-” You stuttered, trying unsuccessfully coming up with an explanation.

“Do you all not know? Isn’t it obvious?” Thor asked, looking at his teammates confusedly. “It’s in her eyes.”

“No they don’t know!” You hissed as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“My deepest apologies, I thought they knew.” Thor immediately apologized upon finding out the truth but the damage was already done.

“Well they do now.” You looked around at all the stunned faces as they saw you through new eyes. “So I guess I owe you guys an explanation, don’t I?” An hour later and everyone had a comprehensive idea of what kind of witch you were. Natasha gave you an impressed grin on her way out while Steve, Tony, and Bruce looked slightly terrified. Wanda asked for your number so you could discuss this further and compare powers later. Thor was the last one out, but he lingered as the others filed out.

“I assumed they knew,” He started, genuine remorse and a little embarrassment spelled out on his handsome face, “it wasn’t my place to speak out like that and I hope you’ll forgive me.“

“It’s okay, really, but can I ask you something?” You asked cautiously, closing the door to avoid having any unwanted listeners.

“Of course.” Thor looked relieved at the fact that you weren’t upset with him and visibly relaxed.  

“How did you know?” You asked, an inquisitive grin on your face.

“Well, it’s everything about you, the way your shift energies to suit you. I’ve only ever seen it in creatures beyond your world, but it came through the moment I looked into your eyes.”

“I can’t believe my own eyes betrayed me.” You said, a nervous giggle escaped you as you cast your eyes downward.

“I’m glad they did because you are something extraordinary.” His eyes bore into yours and you saw something in them you didn’t even realize you missed.

From then on, you and Thor were practically inseparable. It was nice that you had someone who understood you and Thor felt less alone on Earth. Anytime he wasn’t wrapped up in his Avengers duties and you had a free moment on the compound, the two of you were discussing your other worldly abilities or you were taking him to new food places. Either way, you each brought a sense of normalcy to the other.

It broke his heart when you left and you were going to miss seeing him almost every day, but that’s who you were. Soon enough, your complexion became more sallow and your hair turned weak and brittle. You couldn’t stay in one place for too long or the energies would become stale and you would become ill all over again. It wasn’t a surprise to you anymore because it was apart of being your kind of witch, but this was the first time you actually had a reason to stay. Weeks were spent where you searched for a spell or charm or talisman that would let you stay longer to no avail. Eventually you had to give up your research when dark spots began to appear all over your skin and your nails became thin as paper.

“You’re leaving for good, aren’t you?” Thor asked from your doorway the day before you left the compound when you failed to meet him at your usual spot.

“I have to Thor, I can’t be here any longer or it’ll only get worse.” You let out a disappointed sigh as you tried to hide your symptoms under the baggie hoodie you were wearing. “I’ve never stayed anywhere this long, but I don’t want to go, not this time. You have no idea how much I want to stay.”

“Will you tell me where you’re going?” He asked as he entered your room and softly shut the door behind him.

“I haven’t decided yet, I only know that it has to be far from here.” Thor stepped closer, slowly closing the distance between you. “Thor, I don’t want to go.” You said, your voice broken from the heartache.

“Nor do I, but if staying here is causing this, then you have to go.” He pushed your stringy hair behind your ear. “When you decide, please tell me where you are if only so I know you are safe.”

“I will, but only if you promise you won’t forget me.” You looked up and though your skin had dulled, your eyes still shone as bright as when Thor first met you.

“I could never forget those eyes.” He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand and held your face so gently as if he was afraid you would break. You tilted your face up and he bent down to meet you in a kiss that almost made you change your mind and stay. It lit you up from the inside and you forgot the pain you were in from your condition and from the thought of having to leave the only person you truly cared about.

Even through your sickly appearance, Thor could only see your magnificence and you could see how much he had come to care about you. That was the first and only time you didn’t like what you were. Nothing could be done and you begrudgingly understood that so you packed what few things you were attached to and stole away to your next destination.

It would be months before Thor heard from you again and he smiled bigger than he had in a long time when he got your letter saying you were safe and that you missed him.

“I know you said you wanted to visit, but I didn’t think this is what you meant!” You shouted from your bedroom as you rummaged around in your things.

“I can’t say I did either, but even under these circumstances, I’m happy to see you, Y/N.” He said as you came back into the dining room with an armful of supplies. The smile on his face lit you up from the inside until it was replaced with worry when his smile turned into a grimace.

“I missed you, Thor, and I’m gonna fix you right up, don’t worry.” You laid out an assortment of vials next to your pestle and mortar. “So let’s see what we’re working with.”

“I could never worry when I’m with you.” His words caused a shy blush to fill your cheeks and a smile that only Thor could get out of you spread onto your face.

Without wasting anymore time, you lifted his t shirt to reveal a nasty gash about a foot in length running across the left side of his torso. It wasn’t too deep, but it was bleeding pretty steadily and it was obviously causing him pain. Admittedly, you had seen worse, but this was still pretty bad. Nonetheless, you knew exactly what to do.

Thor watched in awe as you dusted different powders into your mortar and mumbled incantations. Small sparks flew from your concoction and you knew you were doing it right. You unconsciously smiled as it all came together and it felt good to be doing what you do best.

“I always loved watching you do this.” Thor said, somewhat to your surprise.

“It’s not the same practicing without an audience,” You replied, reminiscing while your concoction brewed, “still though, I wish you were here under different circumstances.”

“I’ll always be happy to see you, Y/N.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” You dipped a swatch of gauze into your creation and laid it onto Thor’s wound. “This is gonna sting.”

“What are you talking about, I don’t feel anything-” Thor started before his words turned into an agonized growl. “I see what you meant, but I’m still happy to see you.”

“It’s okay, it’ll only last for a few minutes.” You said, instinctively grabbing his hand in reassurance and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “If it hurts, it means it’s working.”

“I never doubted you.” Just as you said, the stinging pain subsided and any traces of the laceration that brought him back to you was all but gone entirely.

“Not bad if I do say so myself.” You smirked as he looked down at his unblemished skin and you found yourself admiring your work. “I guess this means you have to go now?” You tore your eyes away and cast them downwards to hide your disappointment.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He asked and you nodded your head wordlessly for him to continue. “I really don’t want to go anywhere right now.”

“I have a secret too, I don’t want you to go.” You leaned over the table and kissed him and you realized how starved you were for the taste of him.

Your kiss led you to your bedroom where you spent the night in bliss with your favorite person in the world. In the morning, you were pleasantly surprised to wake up and see his sleeping form in your bed. You ran your hand through his short blond hair and he stirred at your touch. With his eyes still closed, Thor took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your palm.

“If I could wake up to you every day, I would never want for anything else.” Thor said, his voice still groggy as he woke up. “I never want to miss you again.”

“How do we fix that, Odinson.” You said coyly, your hand still in his reassuring grasp.

“Come with me and we can go wherever you want. The Nine Realms are yours to take and I’ll be by your side, as it should be.” He looked you in the eye and you could see how much he wanted this for you, for the both of you.

“Thor, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Just thinking about being away from him again made your stomach drop, but you didn’t want to be an inconvenience to the person you had come to love.

“Y/N, I don’t want to be on a planet that you’re not on.” Thor was fully awake now and so were you as you held back tears. “I felt whole when I met you and every moment away from you is as if I’m losing myself.” Looking into his eyes, was like looking at your home. Every part of you missed him when you left and you never wanted to be away from him now that he came back to you.

“But where would we go first?” You asked, your voice thick with tears of happiness.

“Anywhere as long as you take me with you.” Thor exclaimed and he wrapped you in his strong arms.

At that moment, you don’t want to be anywhere else in the galaxy. You were finally home and neither of you were going to let it go ever again.

Tags: @arrow-guy @arcxreactor @liaamari17 @claws-of-vibranium @themilkface @imagine-assembling-the-avengers @steebthesmol @avengersimaginings @avengerofyourheart @kellarter @captainpunk @fluffyavengers @purelittleblueberry @travelwithwords @lady-thor-foster @tasting-writers-block @rotisserierogers @travelwithwords @bidianaprinxe @captainrogerss @jurassicbarnes

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[shadowedgarden]

From the Hunters, Among the Hunted

Chapter 2: The Desolate City 

 Hi! Yes it's been a bit over a year, sorry about that, when I say I'm bad at updating I do not kid.  At all. On the plus side, chapter 2 and 3 are going up at the same time, as I didn't know where to split it when I was writing it. A thank you to @insanityisnotfun for his input and help, and anyone else that helped in the past year(sorry again, it's been awhile so my memory isn't that good for this). Isp: this comic. Feedback is always appreciated, hope you enjoy! 

Ch.1: Welcome, Please Try Not to Die ||  Ch.3: Let the Fun Begin!

 You stare at the contraption for what feels like an eternity before you dare touch a thing.  It's approximately the size of your hand, maybe a bit smaller, the exterior being made of some hard material.  Its shape is reminiscent of a box, and once you pry it open the thinner half starts to emit light, making the cracks over top of it look even weirder.  The thicker half is covered in a flexible material, shaped into a grid with each square covered in nearly worn off numbers and letters.  Some spots are obviously patched in some way.  When you finally manage to hesitantly poke it, it makes a beep that startles you enough to jump, and stalling progress for a few minutes until you regain enough curiosity or confidence to continue.  Eventually, you manage to press another button, and a soft ringing starts emanating from it.  Nearly instantaneously it's on the ground, though whether you placed it there or dropped it is impossible to tell, and you are behind a partially crumbled pillar.  The ringing stops and a voice, which sound similar to Toriel's, takes it place.  You will ask her about that later.  The voice stops, and you creep over and delicately put it into your backpack, then start off in the direction she left in. 

The next room has oddly large piles of red leaves everywhere, and there is another one of the gently pulsing yellow stars beside the pile nearest you.  You flop down on said pile, and the leaves crunch underneath your weight, those not directly underneath you whispering instead.  Your eyes widen, a grin breaking out across your face as you pick up your arm and flop it down again, resulting in another crunch that sets your childish heart soaring.  You turn around and tackle the leaves, becoming immersed as they fall on you.  Because an abandoned crumbling shell of a city just screams play to you, doesn't it.  Sitting up, you blow some especially friendly leaves, as well as a strand of your dark tangled hair, out of your face and dive back in.  Congratulations, you just completely defeated the purpose of that action.  Eventually, your hand touches the star, determination swirling into your happiness as you Save.  You lie back, giggling, and gaze up at the stars.   

After a minute of resting you stand up, your urge to play temporarily sated.  A shadowy archway covered in silvery cobwebs swiftly grabs your eye and snags your curiosity, drawing you in.  As luck would have it, there is a hole in the wall of webs low down near the ground, neat enough that it almost seems like it has been used as an entrance before.  Inside you find it is a stunningly intact room.  Fresh water runs through, sparkling in the moonlight, moss grows thickly along the corners in an inviting manner, and in the center of the room sits a bowl , slightly raised off the floor with the words "For those in need of healing" painted neatly on the side.  Vines encase the room and hold it together, the ceiling still mostly intact with only a single hole in it, which manages to half flood the room in moonlight.  Glittering cobwebs are draped around the upper corners of the room.  It's a perfect refuge.  Realizing how thirsty you are, you fill up your water-bottle at the stream, and grab a spider cider and a spider doughnut from the bowl.  You lie back on the moss for a rest.  After a minute or so of dozing, the spiders begin growing restless.  You will not be able to stay much longer.  After one last glance at this dream-like room, you leave, ignoring the leaf-piles.  

You are only a few strides out before the floor abruptly disappears from beneath you.  A cry forces its way up through your throat, arms flailing desperately for something to grab, some way to stop your fall, but it is too late and you fall into shadows.  A pile of leaves cushions your landing.  You spend the next few minutes attempting to calm your racing heart, control your shaky breathing, and blink back tears.  You decide you need to be more careful.  Much more careful.  Once you calm down and make sure nothing, particularly yourself or the phone, is broken, you look around.  The only notable thing is two decent sized holes built into the wall, as well as the skylight you made with your fall.  Upon closer examination you find that the holes in the wall are really tunnels.  Actually, shafts would probably describe them better, as they are vertical.  You test one of the shaft's strength then begin to climb, finding that there are plenty of handholds.  Your pack trails behind you, dangling from your foot so you can fit.  As you climb over the bend at the top, the bag catches a little, and you tug on it.  When that doesn't work you pull harder.  It comes free with only a split-second's warning and you tumble out, unprepared for the sudden give, falling right on top of an unsuspecting Whimsum.  Whimsums are flighty and nervous, always feeling guilty due to a complication in their past, and their ghost-like and twiggy appearance does little to convince anyone otherwise.  This one is gone the instant you open your mouth, even though you bring apologies and promises that you mean no harm.  You can do no more than stare after it.  Putting the encounter out of your mind the best you can, you realize you are on the other side of the falling tiles, and back on track.  On track to where, you have no idea, unless you count exploration as a location, but back on track none the less.  

The next room where you have to do something other then just pick your way cautiously around rocks and vines and the remains of unrecognizable things gains your attention by having a lack of said objects.  Instead the ground is made entirely of that scratched stone that you know from prior inspection is only supported by flimsy twigs.  It will break under your weight instantly.  Pity that you saw no other way around, and trying to go back would only lead to more.  Heart nagging you, you let out a sigh and step out, staying near the wall in the foolish hope that, despite your knowledge, it might not collapse and send you falling to the hard floor beneath.  You get no such luck, promptly having your world drop, your heart jump into your mouth, and your breathing hitch.  You are lucky enough to miss some of the worn, battered, and bent spikes that still managed to exist, and land instead on a pile of dust and leaves.  After a few shaky breaths and a cough or two, you see an oddly clear path that goes all the way to the end of the room.  You head over to the tunnel for this area, beginning to climb.  This one is a bit more smoothed than the first one and you nearly slip, but you manage to make it and slide out, and try again to cross, attempting to walk where the path was below.  Somehow, the sticks are strong enough to support you here, and while the stone tiles tip up a bit as you walk, you don't fall.  You carefully follow the path, however, your memory is not exactly perfect, and you fall and have to start again, earning yourself a small bruise.  

On your next try, your foot goes over the edge, but you manage to pull it back in time and correct yourself.  You relax as you exit, forgetting about the rocks that litter this place and tripping, your arm hitting something sharp, and making you wince.  Your blood drips on the ground.  It was an arrowhead.  You sit up, grimacing at the sting and quietly cursing lightly under your breath.  The room has some bigger boulders in it, as well as several more arrowheads, and some long dried blood.  The rocks were scratched in some places, and at the far end a brisk stream ran through, with nearly destroyed spikes half submerged in the centre.  You wonder why Toriel would ever watch over such a place.  You pick your way through carefully, not wanting to disturb anything.  You leave the room with a feeling of dread starting to form in your mind.  A mouse distracts you, and the "no matter what" part of your promise surfaces from your memories.  You touch the star, trying to ignore the nagging in your mind and letting determination wash over you.  Some hope returns to you.  If the mouse can make it here, so can you.  The ghost that disappears the instant you see each other, on the other hand, certainly doesn't help with your apprehension, or the haunted atmosphere.  You sigh, taking a few steps forward and kicking at a small pebble.  It skips through a doorway and is stopped by a spearhead embedded in the ground, causing you to look up and then out into the space beyond.  

The walls of that room and the next few beside it have been mostly destroyed and reduced to rubble.  Rocks cover the ground so thickly you can hardly see it.  The moon shines brightly, bathing the place in silver light and revealing everything.  Spears and swords and other weapons from your village are scattered across the landscape, all of them broken beyond repair.  There are a few spatters of blood, old and dried, and the larger rocks are scorched on occasion.  You have no idea how long any of it has been here.  A thin crust of dust coats most of what you can see, even with some patches being slowly eroded and carried off in little wisps by the wind, which sounds a fair amount like echoing screams and moans as it crescendos and diminuendos.  A chill runs through you, causing you to shudder.  It is hard to fathom why anyone would come or stay anywhere near this place.  You walk through the doorway on your left, pausing to take a sip of water, and are debating on whether you want to eat one of the spider doughnuts or something else when a muffled ringing interrupts you, originating from inside your pack.  Despite how quiet it is, it still sounds a bit too loud in this place.  The entire city is submerged in an eerie sort of silence, honestly, if you discount the wind crying in the background.  The phone rings for a bit while you figure out how to answer.  When you pick up, Toriel's voice comes through, sounding worn with a vaguely strained cheerfulness, the slightest bit more prominent then when you first met her, though it could easily be your imagination. 

 "Greetings, my child, this is Toriel.  I hope you have not encountered too much difficulty since we parted.  I still have one or two things I must attend to, so if you could head to the house at the base of the mountain I would greatly appreciate it.  Do you think you can manage that?  If you have any doubts at all I will come guide you." 

You tell her you can.  

"Excellent, I will meet you there.  Be good, will you?"  The phone beeps once, leaving you with a place to be.  

Ch. 3: Let the fun Begin!

[ecotone99]

[MS] The Computer Room

I have slowly been scratching the skin off my face. It started when my index finger got itchy, I started scratching it and scratching it and scratching it and scratching it……when I starting scratching the muscle tissue off my skin and the bleeding would start I would move to another part of my body. When my right arm got filled up I would move on to the left, when my left leg got filled up I would move on to the right. My body was fully covered with recovering protruding muscle that came back as small hills, permanently scarring me. After a couple of days almost every single part of my body was covered, every single part except my face.

I signed up at 18 years old. I did nothing and was nothing. The ads were more intrusive and annoying than those porn ads that imply a want for your body that you have never known and will never know. Every video, every website, every click.

MAKING 20,000 DOLLARS CASH EVERY MONTH IS JUST A FLIP OF A SWITCH AWAY MAKING 20,000 DOLLARS CASH EVERY MONTH IS JUST A FLIP OF A SWITCH AWAY WANT TO MAKE 20,000 DOLLARS CASH? ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS FLIP A SWITCH! WANT TO MAKE 20,000 DOLLARS CASH? ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS FLIP A SWITCH!

I’m not an idiot, I know better than to actually click those, but I was just so damn bored. Sitting in a room all day you tend to get a little more influenced. I clicked the ad and it had two words on it, YES and NO. I clicked yes.

As soon as I clicked I heard a vehicle in the distance going at a stupidly fast speed until the dying screEEEEEEEEECH of brakes being worked to death brought this object to an immediate stop. I looked outside my window and there was a white van stopped right there in front of my house, waiting. The back doors slowly opened and it continued to wait, it waited so patiently. I am not a patient person and I don’t like to keep people waiting so I went off.

I sat there in the back of the van with the sunshine of the outside trying desperately to seep through but the blacked out windows killed most of it. The van felt like it was a boat in water more than a car on a road. It tested my body’s resistance to centripetal forces making me shift left and right and leftttttttttttttt and righhhttttttt with its incredibly sharp turns. Finally, it made me hold on for dear life as it suddenly, and furiously, stopped. The doors opened and I was smacked by a thft thft thft thft of a helicopter roaring so loudly I almost had to close my ears, it too was waiting. I exited the van and went into the helicopter. Again, I sat in a vehicle that felt like it was trying to complete a speed run. I would have liked to look outside to see where I was going but like the van it had no windows and there was very little light. When I finally landed from wherever point A to wherever point B I was greeted by a new contraption, a giant military style plane that was the size of a commercial air liner. It had a gigantic ramp that served as its entrance, it could easily fit tanks, supplies, and a small army, but as I walked up the ramp it looked like it was only gonna be carrying me. As I took a seat and strapped myself in with a complex amount of seatbelts that felt more like I was gonna ride a roller coaster more so than a plane the giant ramp closed its humongous mouth and swallowed me. I sat, like always, in a poorly lit vehicle with nothing to exercise my eye. This vehicle did have something new about it, a glowing red light that encompassed all of the empty space in the plane. I had went from the back of a van, to the back of a chopper, to the back of a plane. I was…………..bored.

The ramp began to open. The red glow that I had basked in was being destroyed by white light from the outside. I shared the red glows pain as I had also been surrounded by almost complete darkness and the light of the outside was stabbing my eyes and forcing me to squint. I almost wanted to stay in the machinery but I drudged forward toward the blinding white light.

I was outside.

As soon as I stepped off the plane the ramp slowly started to close and it’s 4 massive engines attached to the wings began to charge up until generated enough noise and power to carry the massive hunk of metal from the ground to the sky. I watched its journey. As it went higher and higher the military plane got smaller and smaller until it disappeared towards this perfect blue sky similar to what you see on a windows xp home screen, just minus the rolling green hills. There were these perfect white clouds that were massive in size marching on towards places I would never see, I wanted to pick them from the sky and eat them. They moved so effortlessly, I so badly wish I could join them but sadly I was born for the ground. I decided to stop looking up.

I was dropped off on a loooooong landing strip that almost floated by itself, the only thing keeping it up was a building it was attached to the hip of. The building was one of the most complicated things I had ever seen. It was a abstract mix of brown pipes and rusty steel, the look was not too far off from an oil rig. The materials were only ordered by the buildings shape which was a perfect cube, and a big cube at that. It looked to be about 30 floors high. Its location was also similar to that of an oil rig as in I was completely surrounded by ocean. I didn’t see the building from the outside but I would imagine that it was being held up with skinny steel or cement legs that attached to the ocean floor. It looked like some weirdo modern art sculpture and the more I stared the more I was fascinated by its ugliness, but the more unnerved I became. Something about the obtuse architecture of bended steel taking up space from the sky and the ocean seemed kind of……..offensive? It just sat there and ate up the world.

The ocean and sky were breath taking, for a couple of seconds, but it was time to move on and find something to do. As I approached the building from the runway I noticed that between the steel and pipes there was a bright red door breaking up the soulless materials. It must have been painted something easily visible for any of the new workers, a facility like this must have a few hundred of employees to keep it running. I thought of some talking points before I would be forced to talk to anyone and I made sure to remind myself that listening and saying “mhmhhh” is the politest and easiest way to interact with people. As I approached the door I noticed there was a small paper taped to it.

THE SWITCH IS ON THE NORTHEAST CORNER OF THE FACILITY. SIGNS ARE CLEARLY MARKED, PLEASE FOLLOW THEM. THE SWITCH MUST BE FLIPPED EVERY 5 MINUTES. FOOD, TOILETRY, AND ENTERTAINMENT CAN BE FOUND AROUND THE FACILITY, JUST LOOK. SOMEONE WILL COME AFTER A WEEK FOR EVALUATION.

I knocked on the door that was for some reason, wooden, and I waited. Whatever, I turned the knob and the handle did not protest. I entered.

Small bulbs pulsated on the roof of long, dark , empty corridors. They were sprinkled across like Christmas decorations, blinking on and off at their own pace of their own will. The walls were rusted steel just like their counterparts on the outside and creaky pipes on the right angles of the wall and ceiling gave them veins. This small corridor I was walking through was about the size of that house in the PT demo, and that feeling of dread was unsurprisingly similar. These blinking lights had a weak orange glow and were seemingly the only source of light in the building I had seen so far. It wasn’t impossible to see but it gave the building a never-ending darkness at the edges of the corridors since it wasn’t lit by more conventional methods.

“I’m going to fucking die.”

I decided to get on with it since the outside only had a landing strip and I wasn’t even sure if more flights would be coming in and I probably had a better chance finding some other employee within the building than outside, so I went in deeper.

Just like the note indicated, there were “signs” marking an indication to a switch. The signs were what looked like impromptu yellow paint on the walls, reading, “this way to switch,” with arrows with hardened drips pointing at breaks in the corridor. So far it seemed that there were no doors but only doorways and breaks in the complex corridors. They branched off into different directions and every so often there could be a fork of 2, 3 , or even 4 doorways leading in different directions, every time these breaks existed there would be the yellow paint indicating which direction this switch was.

straight

straight

left

right

left

I was in a room that was about the size of a house. Its ceilings were about 3 floors high and it had windowless rusted steel walls but what differentiated this room from anything else in the building was that the wall opposite of the entrance was completely covered in pipes. The pipes ate the wall and were attached vertically, letting out soft yells of steam, they twisted and contorted towards the center creating a natural connection to it, the switch, the thing that I had been brought all this way for.

It was a simple light switch, that classic white switch you can find in every household in America. It was kind of comedic how normal looking this switch was in this disturbing steampunk sequence room. A little above it was a black digital clock that had red numbers like a prop in an action movie counting down the nukes. It had about 12 seconds left for what I assume was me getting fired so I did the obvious, hit the switch down.

0:08

0:07

"fuck. Uh. Hmmm.”

0:06

0:05

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck

0:04

0:03

0:02

I flipped it back up.

5:00

4:99

Well that was that.

It really was that easy huh, I just flip a switch. I wonder when I was gonna get paid.

The entertainment wasn’t that extensive. It was a room made up of, can you guess, yup thats right, brown rusted steel but what made it unique was that it had a desk with a working computer on it and a single book titled The Island. The computer had your standard windows OS but it came with a pre-downloaded program that had a logo of an eye and the text Employee. I clicked on it and it had my name, amount paid, when my next check would be deposited, and hours worked. It also said The internet made this check possible which reminded me of those dumb quotes underneath my checks when I worked retail that similarly said A satisfied customer made this check possible. What a bunch of bullshit.

The computer also curiously did not have a regular clock at the bottom right like other windows computers, it just had the countdown for the switch. It made me notice that this room, like all other rooms I would later find, had the same red digital clock hanging on its walls reminding me how much time I had to flip the switch.

When I discovered the food I gained a newfound respect for the “entertainment” room because this place was even more abysmal. It was 2 refrigerators and a microwave, thats it. When I opened one of the refrigerators it contained exactly 2 things, ham and cheese hot pockets and 2 liters of coke. I went to open the next one and it was filled with the exact same thing. I looked around the room for plates and more importantly cups but there weren't any, just the fridges and the microwave. It looks like it was gonna be straight out of the bottle.

I had been walking around the facility for a couple of hours, making sure to flip the switch every 5 minutes, and strangely enough there was not a single other person in the whole damn place. Most corridors I walk through simply led to dead ends which made no sense. How could a facility like this be so massive but have only 3 rooms? This is….. This is…………… really fucking boring

I think it’s been 2 days since I got here, it’s really hard to tell since theres no sunlight and there isn’t a clock or calendar in the whole facility, but on what I presume was the 2nd day I started reading The Island. Moving the empty coke bottles and Hot Pocket wrappers off the computer desk (there isn’t a trashcan in the facility so don’t judge me) I sat down by the switch and found out about where I was working at. It never talked about the switch or what it even does but it did go into great detail on the island and it’s contents.

I learned that it was built in 1971 by a company called DGSW and its purpose is to process all data sent over the internet and get it where it needs to be. Apparently 3 billion people use the Internet everyday. Books, videos, pictures, music, love, hate, pornography and more are generated and consumed by millions every second. 2 quintillion bytes are produced in a day, that’s 18 zeroes in case you were going to google that. The internet also doesn’t exist in one single place, it’s a complex give and take between host and leeches that interact with each other until one of the two gets bored or dies. It is a decentralized process that has no place it really exists, like a happy memory it usually exists between 2 or more people.

Most websites are like a concert venue or a train station, we can access them whenever we please and so can others, but someone, like a big company or a small business, has to create a venue to host all these people. Unfortunately, you cannot just appear at a concert. To access these places you need a way to get there, and in the world of the internet there aren’t any sidewalks but only roads, and there aren’t any cars to buy but only pay-per-month taxis. An ISP gives you access to the internet you so desperately desire. While all ISP’s differ in price and quality they all are actually owned by the same company that built the island, DGSW. DGSW has a complete monopoly on the internet and through pseudo corporations that are nothing but names they have survived undetected, sleuthing inside your modem. The book also included a picture of how the Island first looked when it was built in 1971, a curiously small white house with a red door. It looked like your average American home just without the white picket fence. 7 men stood posing shoulder to shoulder in front of the house, they were all smiling ear to ear in with a beautiful house and a beautiful sky behind them. It looked so warm and welcoming, like a real community. What the fuck happened?

As I continued reading I also learned what the flashing light bulbs were. Each one was a piece of individual data that flashed when that piece of data is processed so, for instance, the first bulb outside the switch room closest to the doorway is a bulb representing when a celebrity dies, every time a celebrity dies it flashes on. The book I was reading had what every bulb represented in a long phonebook like sequence. This was all dreadfully fascinating but instead of continuing to read I decided I was hungry so I brought the book over to the “kitchen” and started cooking up a hot pocket.

As I waited for the microwave to finish my nutritious meal I started staring at a bulb through the doorway, I looked it up in the book and it was the bulb for any time theres a mass shooting. I saw it blink a couple of times and I couldn’t stop starring at it. Every flash of light told the story of some cynical fuck letting his brain rot by…by… I don’t even know what by and he just snaps, the only cogs turning are ones that tell him he has to kill as many people as possible as fast as possible. Those people gunned down in streets, clubs, churches, grocery stores…….schools…… just little tiny children blasted into oblivion, forever, permanently. Blood flowing like river out of the veins of ordinary people, splattering across the inside of buildings that, up until the dreadful moment, indiscriminately housed anyone. I wonder how you react when your worshipping your god thanking them for all the blessing you have had or maybe asking them to strengthen you for the trials and tribulations which you are facing are hardening you, then out of nowhere BANG the person next to you has their brain matter invade the skin on your face. Be it the blood hitting your face or the sound you open your eyes and the reality of a AR-15 is starring at you eye to eye. There had to have been thousands of meetings between scientists, politicians, presidents, geniuses, and I don’t know who else trying to figure out just what the fuck can we do about this disease that is making public spaces a nightmare to even think about. What can be done about such a precarious situation where ordinary people like you and me can turn into beasts of mass destruction ready to appoint ourselves judge, jury, and executioner for the unknowing masses at the drop of- - oh my Hot Pocket is ready.

On the 5th day I was more bored than usual. I decided to go to the “entertainment” room and do what I usually do when I’m extraordinarily bored, masturbate. I think masturbation is one of those things that can be beautiful or repulsive depending on the context. It can be beautiful when it indicates a pure love of oneself and the appreciation of the body and its need for touch. It can also be kind of beautiful when it serves a utilitarian purpose to curve those deep desires that just can’t come into fruition yet. Like I said I masturbate when I'm bored. Theres no one here to make me feral and I don’t think my body likes me or wants to be touched by me and I sure don’t like my fucking body.

Weirdly enough I didn’t go into the “entertainment” room to look up pornography. I don’t like pornography, theres no love in it, theres no intimacy, it’s just not real enough. I like stuff that I have an effect on, something I know will see me and know me and that just isn’t possible through a pre-recorded video, so I jerk off to selfies. I usually message the person while jerking off, too.

i came to this

ur so fucking hot

i wanna cum ur tits

i wanna fuck you

i want you

i need you

You know how it goes. Instantly blocked, creep, you sick fuck, on and on and on it comes with the territory. Just call them a bitch and move on to the next one.

I don’t know if people like cumming but personally, I don’t think I have ever had a good cum. The first one is always the best though, It’s nice and easy and every touch feels kind of like the first time, but not truly. When I'm done I usually have plenty of time to go and flip the switch. The second isn’t the worst but it takes a bit more work and I usually have to take a pause in-between just to catch my breath or I have to stop to go and flip the switch. The third, fourth, and fifth are useless but I just can’t stop myself. What else is there to do?

Sometime around the 11th day I started sniffing my shirt and oh god I fucking smell. There aren’t any showers or extra clothes here and while I don’t know exactly long I’ve been here I know its been a minute since the smell of musk is screaming from out of my armpits. There are actual physical stains from my unwashed shirt that are starting to form under my arm pits. I know it’s gross but I kind of like the smell. It’s me. I have so many grease stains from the soda and the food but hey I’m not gonna change my damn clothes because guess what! I don’t have any so piss off. As I'm on my way to flip the switch I keep breathing in my own musk and making a face but the smell is kind of….captivating. I’m starting to really like it

It has to be like a month in and Im watching youtube videos. Hours and Hours must just being murdered by but I can’t just stop letting the algorithm take me to new and useless places. Usually I’m really careful to give myself time to flip the switch but these videos absorb me and when I shift my eyes to the clock at the bottom right of the computer there can be as little as 10 seconds for me to go and flip the switch. I swear it takes longer than 10 seconds to get to the switch room from the “entertainment” room but somehow I always make it in time. Right now Im watching a video on what the worlds strongest man eats in a day. It’s a 20 minute video on, well, just him eating. In the morning he eats cinnamon toast crunch, 8 eggs, and peanut butter. The breakfast has 68 grams of protein, 74 grams of carbs, 68 grams of fat, and 1,180 calories. When the video is over the Algorithm automatically goes into a new video on 11 exercises you should never do in the gym (DO THESE INSTEAD!). Its this incredibly buff man inside of the echoeiest gym in the world talking about exercises that just aren’t that effective. He’s not screaming but his voice is powerful and he is so passionate about getting you to STOP doing these exercises at the gym, and I'm pretty pleased that I’m no longer stupid enough to never do these 11 exercises. I have never been to the gym.

On what I believe is my 7th week I’m sitting in the switch room listening to the hisses of the steam pipes and flipping the switch every 20 seconds. I came up with this method to hopefully appease whoever my bosses are and make them think I am doing an extraordinary job. How often is it that people do the bare minimum and wait till the last couple of seconds to flip the switch when there is almost no time left? It must be every employee, that is until I came along. I hope they notice not only how early I flip the switch but also how I do it. I started doing this 2 hand approach where I use my entire right hand to flip it down and then use my left hand to flip it up, never using the wrong hand to do the wrong stroke. I never use an individual finger, I think thats extremely disrespectful and shows bad work ethic, I connect all my fingers and use my entire hand to flip the switch. I swear it’s been longer than a week and yet they still haven’t came to evaluate me but it kind of makes sense since I’m such an excellent worker they probably don’t feel the need, hell I lose sleep over this damn switch. Remember, there are only 3 “useful” rooms in this whole place and none of them come with a bed, not that I need one since how could I sleep with the 5-minute timer. I haven’t slept this entire time. Now, sometimes I catch myself drifting off when I put my back against a wall but even though ill wake up and feel like I slept hours anytime I run to the switch room I always have just enough time to flip it. They really are blessed to have an employee like me.

I think its the 3rd month here. Im sitting in my trash room. It’s just an empty space I found that I decided to put my trash in. Im just sitting here surrounded by empty bottles and plastic wrappers. I’m just sitting here. It’s time. I’m so used to knowing when it is time I don’t even need to look at the clocks anymore. I make my way there and I go flip the switch. I flip the switch. I haven’t seen another person in so long but I don’t even like people. My purpose is to flip this switch. I start flipping it and flipping it and flipping it. I flip it so fast and with such furry it has to break soon, it has to. When I break this fucking switch I can leave the island. They’re gonna come in here and take me away because I broke their switch, they might yell at me, even maybe put me in jail, but I’ll finally be able to leave. I’m using all my strength but maybe my diet is the reason I can’t break this fucking switch. I’m sweating and crying and flipping the switch so fucking hard but it just wont break. I need to go home, I need to go home. The sad part is that I probably am home.

I start looking at my hands. They’re so skinny and bony they look like they’re hands from a decomposing body. I stare at them. I realize something, my hands are itchy. I start scratching my hands. No matter how much I scratch the itch won’t go away. I think I need to scratch harder…

I’ve decided I need to destroy something. I’m tired of working so hard and my bosses don’t even notice, I’m tired of sitting in my room and jerking off to people with happier lives than me. I’m tired of sitting in a room filled with garbage and staring at lights all day. I’m tired of never sleeping. I start huffing and puffing and I stand the FUCK up. I start putting my right leg then my left leg and right leg and my left leg and I am MARCHING towards the food room to search for my weapon. As my legs rhythmically stomp on the earth one after the other I notice that there is triumphant music playing. There it is, the hero music. I am going to destroy something and the orchestra has been brought out to play the hero’s music. My stomps match the tempo of the beautiful notes as I emerge into the food room. As I slAM the fridge door open I hear a bombastic French horn play their note with a rush of air that reflects the energy I used to open the door. I grab my weapon of destruction, the last unopened 2 liter of coke, and I slAM the fridge door so hard it stars to do a wobble. The music has a tempo change, it’s getting faster. I am the hero. I am stomping as hard as I can, my knees are going UP like you’ve never seen anyones knees go so damn UP before. Ooooooo im gonna fuck something UP. The music is getting so loud I swear the cymbals crashing and the horns playing are right behind me. I turn around, there is a full on marching band behind me. There is no doubt about it, I am the hero. We parade to the computer room and once we get there we crowd around the computer. The music stops, they all put their instruments down to watch me. I hold the 2 liter of coke by its bottle cap with 2 hands like a batter ready to swing for a home run. They are all waiting patiently for the show. I look at the computer and bend my knees slightly and prep the 2 liter behind my head. I can feel the power i’m about to unleash unto this fucking computer, I can feel the marching band lean the tiniest bit forward as they hold their breaths. I’m gonna swing I’m gonna swing I’m gonna fucking- the eye is flashing. The eye is flashing. I hear a collective

“hmmmm”

from the crowd. I set my weapon on the floor and approach the computer. The eye app is flashing and it won’t stop. I click it. The information was the same, my name, amount I had been paid, my next check, and the time I had worked. W***** H****, 0.00$, January 2nd, and 168 hours. Wait. 168 hours. I have been here for 168 hours. How is that possible I’ve been here for months but according to this I’ve been here for 168 hours…………a week……

A knock on the door reverberates through the facility, it is gentle.

I turn around, the band is no longer behind me. I am in an empty room filled with wrappers and plastic. I am looking at my arms and they are scarred. My entire body is scarred.

The gentle knock continues, they are waiting.

I am walking towards the wooden door. The pipes are falling from the ceiling. The blinking lights are exploding behind me. I am walking towards the wooden door.

The knock continues.

My heart is thumping. My retinas are screaming. My pupils must be overtaking my entire eye. I am face to face with the wooden door. My hand reaches the handle, I turn it, the hinges release.

“oh Jesus it smells in here, go open up a window and let some light in”

submitted by /u/ptepoch [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2u0hpl5

[wikitopx]

This article was written by Suzi Iverson. Visit her website Travel With Monsters for itineraries, guides and other tips on how to travel with little ones without losing your mind.

There’s a reason Zion National Park is the most visited park in Utah, and it’s not just because names like Angel’s Landing and Weeping Rock and Checkerboard Mesa make you feel as though you are stepping forth on a magical mystery tour. It’s because Zion’s attractions — from the Narrows to Northgate Peaks — are just that impressive. Four million people a year can’t be wrong, right?

1. Angel’s Landing

Does teetering on a razor edge of rock 1,000 feet above the valley floor sound fun to you? No? Then don’t teeter. Clutch tightly with both hands to the chain that has been thoughtfully bolted into the trail. The expansive views of Zion Canyon from Angel’s Landing are worth the trip, provided you do not have a debilitating fear of heights.

Yes, the final stretch up to Angel’s Landing, called the Hogsback, is a rocky ridge with sheer drops on either side that feels terribly dangerous. But when you make it up (clinging for dear life to the chain handrail), you’ll be rewarded by the stunning views at Angel’s Landing plus bragging rights when you get home.

2. The Narrows Riverside Walk

This your chance to go to The Narrows without actually hiking The Narrows. Start at the Temple of Sinawava, where you’ll notice the walls of the canyon starting to close in on either side of the Virgin River. Meander down the sidewalk, splash in the river, or just stop and let your jaw drop in wonder. At the end of the walk, you’ll notice people starting to head up the river; these are the serious people who are hiking the Narrows. If you prefer to keep your feet dry, turn around, and enjoy it all again on the way back.

3. The Subway

This is the classic semi-technical hike of The Narrows, requiring ropes, bouldering, a knowledge of canyoneering and a shuttle waiting for you at the bottom. If you can come up with that stuff (and aren’t afraid of getting your feet wet or enclosed spaces) you’ll be rewarded with waterfalls, pools, a tunnel of red rock (the subway) and dinosaur tracks.

This hike starts at the Wildcat Trailhead on Kolob Reservoir Road 15 miles above the town of Virgin. When you reach Left Fork Canyon and Russell Creek, you’ll scramble down into the slot canyon, where the real fun begins. You’ll be hiking through the river, down waterfalls and over boulders. It’s a steep climb out at the Left Fork Trailhead, where you best have a car waiting for you. If not, you’ll have a really long walk home.

4. Canyon Overlook Trail

Looking for the perfect, expansive shot of the valley floor? Don’t miss Canyon Overlook Trail, which leads to a lookout that has been delighting photographers for decades. You’ll find the trailhead at the east entrance of the Mount Carmel Tunnel.

5. Weeping Rock

This popular site is a major stop on the shuttle that runs through Zion Canyon, making it very accessible. An easy trail (not suitable for strollers or wheelchairs but doable for most everyone else) leads to an unusual sandstone cliff covered in tiny rivulets of water. The tears of this rocky wall feed ferns and mosses, while the Great White Throne towers overhead.

6. The Zion Narrows to Imlay Temple, Big Spring

True story: in 1963 my dad, uncle and grandfather were caught in a flash flood while hiking The Narrows and escaped death by clinging to a hardy tree overnight and eating canned peaches and raw bacon. We now take family pilgrimages to The Narrows to thank said tree (and then argue about which tree it is). I was thus raised with a decent appreciation for the dangers inherent in hiking slot canyons in general and this one in particular. And who doesn’t love a little danger?The Narrows is stunning, with sheer red rock walls towering over you as you hike up the

Virgin River. Around every bend is a new surprise: a hardy tree, or maybe a waterfall. If you make it all the way to Big Spring, you may be rewarded with a gorgeous pool. All of this being dependent on weather and river levels, of course, which is what makes it so exciting.

This isn’t a trail. It’s a river, but as long as you don’t mind being knee-deep in water and walking on rocks, it isn’t a difficult hike. The difficulty depends on the time of year and the water levels, which should be checked before you head out. You’ll need a walking stick and the right footwear. The best time to hike The Narrows is the late spring and summer.

7. Lower Emerald Pool

Across the street from Zion Lodge you’ll find this paved trail, which makes it possible for strollers and wheelchairs to navigate up to this little oasis. Here, water from the Middle Emerald Pool above drips down the sandstone and into the Lower Emerald Pool, nourishing lush hanging gardens and occasionally turning into an actual waterfall during spring runoff. When you feel like you’re about to crinkle up and turn to sandstone yourself in the heat of a Zion summer, consider a rest at Lower Emerald Pool.

8. Checkerboard Mesa

Zion has plenty of must-see attractions for armchair geologists, and this is one of the most famous. This sandstone butte is covered in crosshatches — horizontal cross-bedding formed over eons by layers of windblown sand and vertical cracks caused by stress and erosion on the stone surface. If you’re thinking you should try playing checkers on the side of this mountain and take some sweet pics, I’m thinking you’re right.

Checkerboard Mesa isn’t on the shuttle route, so you’ll have to drive over to this hunk of rock if you want to see it. It’s located just inside the East Entrance to the park.

9. Zion Canyon Scenic Drive

Zion Canyon Scenic Drive provides the chance to see the towering majesty of Zion National Park from your automobile. This road along the valley floor runs from the visitor center all the way to the Temple of Sinawava, and past many of Zion’s most famous features, including the Great White Throne, the Grotto, and Angel’s Landing. Due to the number of visitors in the park these days, you can only drive your car through this area during the winter; the rest of the year, you’ll have to take one of the park’s shuttle buses.

10. Many Pools

Here’s a hike that will get you away from everybody else, and give you a view of hoodoos, interesting pothole formations, and maybe even a few tadpoles. This trail is a drainage, one of a pair commonly called the Root Canals. Rain and snowmelt cascade down the rock walls here, filling the pothole formations and forming fun little pools. Many Pools is off the shuttle route (BYOC — bring your own car), on the east side of the park, along UT-9.

Here are a few more ideas: Top 10 things to do in Wildwood NJ

From : https://wikitopx.com/travel/top-10-things-to-do-in-zion-national-park-702099.html