#spooky snippet

[depressed-werewolf]

Summoning Shenanigans

Wanted to write something spooky, this is the result

I didn’t even know why I bought the book in the first place. It was the most obviously cursed thing I’d ever seen. Hell, the shopkeeper had even told me it was cursed, but I didn’t listen and now there was a rather annoyed-looking demon standing in the middle of my kitchen.

The demon didn’t look how I imagined them. I’d expected some Lovecraftian abomination. This was not that.

The demon was a tall man with short black hair. His unnatural height and his horns were what gave him away. He was so tall that he’d likely hit his head trying to go through a doorway. His horns stuck out from under his short black hair. There was nothing particularly uncanny about his face, in fact, he was somewhat handsome with tan skin, brown eyes, and a chiseled jawline. He wore a three-piece suit with a red collared shirt underneath.

He stared at the protagonist for a moment before speaking. His voice was low and flat, he made no effort to hide his irritation. “Don’t just stare, let’s get this over with. I’ve got shit to do.”

I didn’t look up, still muttering to myself. This couldn’t be real. “I didn’t think it would work.”

The demon brought me out of my thoughts when he snapped his fingers in front of my face. He looked even more annoyed now.

“Seriously, you went through this whole stupid spell, bought the most cursed book you’ve ever seen, and got me out of bed for what? Fun? People like you die in horror movies.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t care about horror movies ‘cause non if that shit is real.”

“Well, I think I’m pretty real, idiot,” he spat.”

“If you’re so powerful then just go back to Hell if this is such an inconvenience for you.”

“You summoned me, I gotta be here. It’s the rules.” He shrugged and looked down at his watch. “Now make a wish so I can go home.”

“‘Make a wish?’ What are you a genie?” I retorted.

He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ, this is why I don’t fuck with mortals you’re all so rude.”

“I’m rude? I thought you wanted people to be rude, you’re a demon aren’t you?”

Another sigh. “I want people to sin, sinning doesn’t mean you have to be a—You know what I don’t have time for this just make your stupid wish.”

He looked like he’d given that explanation at least twenty times before.

I started at the demon for a moment. “I don’t have one,” I muttered.

“You gotta be kidding me!” He exclaimed, “why the hell did you summon me if—“

“I didn’t think it was gonna work dumbass!” I yelled, gesturing wildly.

“Calm down, calm down, just like think of something off the top of your head.”

I closed my eyes and thought for a moment, eventually choosing the first thing to mind.

“Uhh, money I guess.”

He rolled his eyes again and shot me a judgmental look. “Kinda basic, but okay.”

“Oh, you beg me to make a wish, then when I do you start whining!”

“I’m not ‘whining!’,” he shot back. “All I’m saying is it is cliche.”

“You know what, fuck you, you’re a little bitch.” “You want something original? Fine. I wish you would shut the fuck up, there’s my goddam wish asshole!”

I stormed out of the kitchen and into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. He simply stood in the middle of the room for a moment looking confused. Finally, he groaned, holding his head in his hands “I fucking hate it here.”

[fellandcrow]

I've been struggling with writer's block for weeks now, as you can probably tell (I can't believe 'Poetry Carved in Flesh' last update was nearly two months ago 😭).

BUT I'm glad to say I'm finally writing again! Working on PCIF chapter 10 as we speak, and it's all thank to the help and support of my amazing friend @friedratart 🤍✨

It's not done yet, and I still have to draw some illustrations for it, but, in the meantime, and to thank you all for your support and patience, here's a little snippet under the cut (feel free to ignore if you'd rather wait for the whole chapter to be out of course 🤍).

“Look at you, you’re gorgeous,” Crowley suddenly said, effectively pulling Aziraphale from his reverie.

Aziraphale felt himself blushing at the praise, not expecting it at all. But, when he turned his head to look at the other man, his chest full of hope even though he felt a bit disconcerted by the sudden compliment, he felt himself deflate, and rolled his eyes. Of course Crowley would be talking to the Gutenberg press he’d tattooed on his arm a few months ago, and not about Aziraphale himself. Of course. The idiot was now cooing and poking at it with a huge grin plastered on his face, completely oblivious of the heart-attack he had very nearly just caused. 

Aziraphale was not impressed.  

“Did you miss me?” Crowley went on, poking the tattoo again and staring at it with stars in his eyes.

What an insufferable man.

“I’m sure it did,” Aziraphale replied in an acerbic tone, vexed despite himself. “Can we get a wiggle on, now?”

“What?” Crowley asked, finally looking at him, all cheer gone from his voice and face.

“Tattoo appointment. Now, if you please.”

“I got that. It was the wiggle-on”, Crowley scoffed.

[thepenultimateword]

Old Bones Part Six

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

CW: Blood, cannibalism, abduction and being trapped, starving, death, undead description

Vampire smelt blood. Not the sweet or savory scents they were accustomed to, but a bland, metallic flavor that simply...existed.

Ah.

Their own.

As soon as they registered that truth, the lacerations on their ankles began to burn, sliced by the sharp edges of the snow as each step shattered the icy top layer.

Didn't matter. Run!

Footsteps crashed behind them.

But where next? They didn't know the way. They had not left Lav's cabin in weeks. And it was earlier in the morning than they'd originally thought. No later than 4 as the sun still hadn't come up. And it had begun to snow again.

"Vampire!"

Didn't matter. Run!

Anywhere. Anytime. Any place safe and lavender-scented and before all this happened.

Something heavy crashed into them from behind. The ice cut their cheek as they fell; a half-second later, their nose was filled with cold, stale powder. The weight lifted slightly as rough hands rolled them onto their back. Vampire blinked against the snow, making out a blur of red, and the weight plopped back on their chest.

“Vampire!"

"No, no, no!" Vampire warded them away with clawing hands, but the villager's beefy fists clasped them tight, drawing them in against their warm breast.

" It’s me! It’s me!" They kissed Vampire's knuckles. "It's Lav."

Vampire's eyes welled. "You don't-- You don't look like Lav. You don't... Your eyes...but not... What are you?"

The villager--Lav-- drew back as if slapped. Their yellow eyes drifted away from Vampire's face, fixing instead just past their shoulder. "Let me explain."

Vampire swallowed. Lav's grip had grown tight, almost painful. Worse because they couldn't seem to stop trembling, though, from the fear or the snow, they didn't know. "W-when you're done...can I go?"

Another slap. This time enough to make them drop Vampire's hands. "Yes. In fact...I've been quite expecting it. Should we go back to the house?"

Vampire shook their head rapidly. It felt like a trap. Walls they could be cornered against and kept behind. They couldn't imagine sitting down in the living room with that face across from them. They couldn't even make sense of what was going on. Was Lav even really their friend?

"Ok..." Lav said, shifting a little in the snow. Their new ruddy face was turning a bright shade of red in the cold, but they didn't even shudder. "You know I'm undead. Not like you though. You're beautiful. I'm... desecrated. You didn't have a choice in your transformation. And mine...well, it's only possible with some degree of choice."

"What are you?" Vampire said firmly, frankly tired of all this beating around the bush.

"I call myself an abomination. You'd call me a ghoul."

"A...ghoul?" Vampire blinked.

Lav thumbed away the cold dribble of blood rolling down their cheek. "You're smart. All those books. You've heard of ghouls."

Not a question, a certainty. And a correct one. Vampire had read about ghouls. They simply couldn't correlate the hideous illustrations from their books with the seeming human in front of them. The face they wore now may appear monstrous after last night, but If it weren't for those predatory eyes and the bone-chilling wrongness of their air, Vampire wouldn't have guessed anything supernatural about them.

Lav must have seen the recognition in their face and the wheels turning behind their eyes because they said, "What do you know?"

"Y-you live in graveyards," Vampire said. "You eat the dead."

"I eat the dead, true. As for the graveyard, it's more a hunting ground than a home. I much prefer my cabin. But I've never acquainted myself with another of my kind, so what do I know of others' habits. Anything else?"

Vampire shook their head. Since ghouls were apparently one of the less common creatures one could run into, the book hadn't dedicated much page space to them. And they weren't about to tell Lav the unflattering details of the entry's description. Especially when it had also offered no defenses.

"Ah." Lav's smile looked more like a grimace. "Then, unfortunately, I must be the one to give you the disturbing history of ghoulish birth."

Vampire grimaced. They weren't sure they wanted to know. There had to be a reason why Lav had kept it veiled for so long.

"I once told you my kind are not quite so simple as a bite. There are several parts to it. One, the moon: the process must last a full cycle, beginning and ending on a new moon. Two, the subject must willingly cannibalize. Three, the subject must die and with that death, make a choice: pass on permanently or return to life."

Vampire shuddered. Their death had been no picnic. Bloody. Nightmarish. Agonizing. But at least it had been quick. "So, y-you wanted to become a ghoul?"

Lav's eyes flashed. Vampire immediately shrank away, but Lav snatched them close again. It seemed meant as a comfort, but their digging grip and cold voice set Vampire's heart pounding.

"When I was 23 years old," Lav hissed in their ear. "I was abducted from my home and locked inside a tomb for thirty days. A sacrifice for a death god rumored to be plaguing our town. They were the cause of all their misfortunes, and my death would surely save them all in time for the next harvest. For four days, I starved in the dark, surrounded by the quiet dead. But, enough time passes, and anything begins looking like food. I survived on corpses' bones and spoiled flesh until the cold and the stomach sick killed me all on their own. But when the death god came for my soul, he gave me a choice. Most people don't know there's a choice. And that there's a reason almost no one chooses to stay.

"I didn't want to die. I had barely lived. I chose life. At first, it seemed like the right choice. I had escaped certain demise without consequences. Yes, something was wrong; anyone could tell that. Any extended amount of time with other people ended with their discomfort and avoidance. But I still looked like me. Sounded like me. Lived like me. And that was enough."

Lav's nails dug unconciously vicious into Vampire's shoulders. Vampire bit back a yelp. They leaned paralyzed on the again-stranger's chest, half frozen in horror, half captivated. Though Lav spoke rapidly, the words obviously came out with some difficulty. Any movement, any sound, seemed likely to send them back into silence.

Lav swallowed hard, throat bobbing against Vampire's resting head. "But I was dead. I couldn't stop the decay. Or the hunger. The craving for the things I had only eaten out of desperation before. My being twisted into something other, something monstrous. And soon enough...I was gone."

Vampire slowly pulled back, and Lav's hands slipped off them, settling in their own lap. They smiled vaguely at their snow-crusted knees, a sort of pasted-on, empty thing without any real feeling behind it. At least, not any of the good ones.

"So you...the real you..." Vampire trailed off, not exactly sure how to finish the question. It seemed insensitive to pry after such a confession. And yet so many questions churned in their head. Did Lav have a body? Were they a spirit that took others' bodies? What did Lav really look like?

Luckily, Lav seemed to understand where the thought was going.

"There's nothing left of me but old bones."

"Ah."

They couldn’t think of another response. This was all happening so fast. A few hours ago they were almost killed. A few hours ago Lav saved their life in a horrifying display. And now all this… Did they care that Lav had changed?

"I can shift my shape into the last human I consumed," Lav continued. "A facade for myself as much as others. I've done it enough times for it to have become commonplace, but each one still takes some getting used to. However, this body...was a less-than-savory choice."

Vampire cocked their head. Did a difference in appearance even count as a real change? They were still the same person. Even with this bulkier body, their mannerisms hadn't changed. The delicate way they folded their hands. The elegant tone of speech, so different from the villager’s harsh voice at the door last night.

Lav mistook their thoughtful look for further inquiry and rushed on. "I mostly survive on animal flesh, but every few months I must eat something human or I fall ill...as you witnessed yourself. I grew too weak on the way to the cemetery, and I needed to return to you...so I did what I must. It made you terribly uncomfortable. For that, I'm sorry."

Yesterday's conversation drifted back to them.

'Should you be getting fevers?'

'Sometimes. I’ve put something off too long, that’s all.'

So that's what they had been referring to. A few months, huh? Vampire had been with them for a few weeks, so they must have had their other form for a while. Had they been refraining for Vampire's sake? But why? They'd never hidden the fact that they ate things outside of Vampire's own comfort zone.

"So the way you looked before...when we met..."

"A traveling noble."

Vampire grimaced involuntarily.

"You don't need to look at me that way; I wasn't the one who killed them. I don't kill any of them if I can help it. From the looks of the carriage and the body, it was bandits. But who was I to waste a fresh body?"

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let yourself fall ill?"

Lav's shoulder sank, and they folded their arms tight against their chest. For truly the first time since they'd met, they seemed small. "Because I've been alone so long. And you were the first person who ever chose to stay. Even if it was out of convenience. With you around, I could pretend I was normal, like a real host with a real guest who both really enjoyed each other's company. I knew once the truth was out, you would want to leave, and I... I just wanted to pretend a little longer."

Vampire paused. The immediate denial of Lav's words dying on their tongue. They had run. And they had wanted to leave. And part of that had been because of Lav's choice of body, but the rest... They couldn't deny that a part of them had recognized Lav immediately. And they'd still run. Maybe had even been looking for excuses to do so. Lav was easy to love when they were making tea or dozing on the sofa. It was a whole different story when they were ripping people apart. Or when they looked like something Vampire had decided they shouldn't. It was the wrongness that made them run. The predator part of their friend that their instincts had always told them to flee from.

They could keep ignoring it or...

"Lav...can I see you?"

The ghoul's yellow eyes flicked unblinkingly to their own. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't care. I...I want to see you. The real you. I think I have to."

If they didn't, it would keep eating at them. They'd always know they were only pretending to accept what they refused to even see. And the distrust would curdle any remains of their relationship.

Lav wet their lips. For a long while, they were quiet, the only sounds the ghostly whistle of the wind through the naked trees and the creaking of the branches as they became overladen with snow. Vampire expected them to refuse again when they said, "Can I ask one thing?"

Vampire nodded.

"Don't run. I want to say goodbye properly."

Vampire's heart skipped an uncertain beat, but they nodded again. "I won't run."

Lav rose brusquely to their feet, thoroughly patting themselves off and taking a long, deep breath.

Vampire's chest tightened. They only knew they were breathing from the faint cloud puffing in front of their face. They gripped the snow on either side of them in handfuls the icy bite grounding them just enough to keep them still.

Lav gave Vampire one last mournful glance and squeezed their eyes shut. Then their face began to melt.

Freckles and hair and ruddy skin, it all dripped away like candle wax. There was no blood or terrible cracking of bone Vampire had imagined in shapeshifting; it was liquid illusion, wet watercolor running off the page, exposing the pale paper beneath.

Vampire bit back their gasp, but a strangled whimper still escaped through their teeth.

The creature was ghastly. A skeletal thing with only dried sinews holding them together. Their tunic, once pulled taught against a broad chest, now hung like drapes off their bony frame. Exposed teeth trapped their expression in an eerie eternal grin, while their yellow eyes, bigger without lids, seemed to roll in their sockets as they looked to Vampire for a reaction.

Run.

The thought wasn't so much verbal as it was a visceral reaction.

Vampire slowly rose, legs shaking.

The creature shielded their face with a grayed hand, nails discomfortingly long and claw-like

Run.

Their instincts had always been wary around Lav, but now they were screaming.

Run!

Vampire stepped forward.

The snow had deepened since the start of their conversation, and with their legs already unsteady, the drift immediately tripped them. Lav lurched forward, catching them in cadaverous arms. In turn, Vampire slid up their hands to hold their desiccated face.

It was much colder and stiffer than while tending their fever, but Vampire stroked the raw cheekbones and haggard brow. So terrible. So familiar. They knew these bones.

"Vampire--"

"I'll stay with you."

Lav's breath hitched. Immediately, they were fleshy and warm again, buried in Vampire's neck in a fit of stifled sobs. Vampire could have gone longer; they didn't think they'd made any hint for them return to a living guise. Maybe Lav was the one uncomfortable in their own skin.

Vampire ran their fingers through the stolen red hair. "But we can't stay here."

Lav spoke muffled into their shoulder. "I'll keep you safe. If we stay in the cabin--"

Vampire forced Lav's face toward them. "Three villagers gone missing after visiting your house? They'll come investigating. And they'll find the bodies soon enough." They squirmed a little. "...Whatever you've done with them. We can't fight them all. And I don't want to. I don't think you do either."

Lav opened their mouth, eyes roiling with a surge of emotions, but the protest died on their lips.

"You can't travel in the day," they said instead.

"They'll be back before nightfall. I'll...I'll wrap up tight."

Lav frowned.

"Besides, it's winter," Vampire rushed. "The sun doesn't rise for a few more hours. Maybe we can at least get the other edge of the wood before they come looking. Find a tavern or inn to hide out in until nightfall."

"And then?" Lav said.

Vampire's brain stuttered to a stop. What was next? They'd barely survived here, and what they had managed had been mostly from hiding. Not much chance of that on the open road. But there would be more information available. More rumors. More people, maybe the inhuman variety.

"Find a clan," they said more firmly than they felt. "For the both of us.

Lav mouth pulled into a skeptical line, but they simply pulled the collar of Vampire's tunic closer around their throat. "We can talk more inside. You're not going anywhere until you've warmed up."

Vampire was suddenly aware of their aching toes, bare and several feet deep in snow. The wind whipped their cheeks and snuck up their shirt sleeves, prompting a violent shiver.

Lav hoisted them into their arms. "You really are the strangest vampire I've ever met."

"H-hey!"

"Darling, I chased you all the way out here; I'm not chasing you home."

Vampire stuttered incoherently but eventually settled tiredly against their brawny chest. They’d been through too many traumatic things in the last 24 hours, and having Lav so close was steadying, even if their outer packaging still unsettled them. They closed their eyes and concentrated on what they could feel beneath the skin, ribs, sternum, collarbones, shoulders…

They could get used to old bones.

Part Seven

Me after finishing this section:

I know it’s not the typical attractive love interest love story, but I think it’s important for Vampire to love Lav for who and what they truly are even if it’s ugly. And it not like they’re suddenly completely ok with it all either, more they’re comfortable enough with it at the moment to move forward. They’re still going to have to accustom to the idea that the physical attraction they’ve had up to this point has all been fake. And they’re going to have to be ok with an ever changing appearance and be confident in their love for what’s on the inside. Anyway, as I finished up this section I was thinking, “this might come off kinda weird for some people” but I enjoyed writing it so that’s what matters haha

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees-deactivated @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn

[anticidic]

Dear writing muse, Here is a writing prompt to help get you into the spooky mood: "Don’t you want to be consumed by what loves you?" Share with me the things you dread so I may know what to lay upon your stone, a story of SKK brain rot would definitely take a high seat on your throne. (Did i intentionally make it rhyme... possible so.)

(cw: blood/injury mentions)

Drip, drip, driiiip…

A twig snapped underfoot. Something splashed. The bubbling current of the brook he thought so close now sounded impossibly far away and six feet submerged.

All around him, the wind picked up—leaves rustled, branches groaned, and the end of his scarf came loose in the breeze, whipping the side of his face. Chuuya touched his neck with his dirty fingers, scratching the phantom itch so terrible he wanted to jump out of his skin because it burned the more he dug mud-caked fingers in. He felt the force of a thousand tiny ant soldiers marching up and down the column of his neck, circling all around and up and down the nape into his hair and down his spine.

Shuddering, he shook away the sensation and sucked in a deep breath. Calm. He needed to remain calm. Yet how could he do that when the trees closed in on him and the starry sky above disappeared into a sea of nothingness? Not even the moon shone. He pressed on through, underbrush scratching his skin and thorns pricking his ankles, catching in his socks and tearing needlepoint holes when he tugged himself free.

“This goddamn place, I swear…” Chuuya muttered, heaving a sigh as he stopped to catch his breath. Sweat beaded at his forehead that he flicked away with a few fingers, smearing wet warmth across his hairline. When the stench of copper reached his nose, he grimaced.

“…looking for you.”

Chuuya’s attention snapped to the nearby trees.

Nothing.

Right above him, the sound of a tree branch bending and snapping under a heavy weight. Too loud to be the wind. Too heavy to be that same owl mourning from afar. A cold streak ran through his heart and a bottomless pit of dread opened up in his stomach.

Don’t look. Don’t. Look.

No, he had to. He felt the presence of something and knew he was not alone. He looked up and saw a pair of eyes, beady and yellow in the darkness, staring back, unblinking, but couldn’t make out the shape of what he saw. Chuuya clutched his phone a little tighter.

Right. He had his phone’s light. He could use it to expose whatever thing was staring back, except making any sense of his racing thoughts proved impossible with the roar of blood rushing through his ears and his heart hammering in his chest.

It laughed. A laugh that soundly oddly human. A human laugh that did not belong to his missing friend. It was a man’s.

“Who’s there?” Chuuya demanded, though his voice cracked under the pressure of the unknown. He stepped backward and stumbled over a thick, gnarled root.

The thing laughed harder, and Chuuya swore he saw those eyes finally move, almost disappearing as if it had the face of a man and he imagined someone amused.

But people did not have yellow eyes.

“Looks like you found yourself in quite the predicament, haven’t you?” it spoke in a smooth voice—a voice that did not fit with the hooting of owls and cawing of crows. Too out of place for this fragmented and cursed place that existed solely by nightfall as the forest swallowed whole the light of day.

Gritting his teeth, Chuuya aimed his phone up at the source of the voice and flashed the light through the trees.

A man stared back, smiling for the camera pointed at him, flashing fanged teeth.

No. Not quite right. He had the appearance of a man, but Chuuya did not miss the claws peeling chipped bark and the eight—no, nine—tails that fanned out behind him in dashes of white and blue color against the black forest canvas. Something about this man made his blood run cold and he took off in the opposite direction, ignoring the burn in his lungs that screamed for him to stop or else as he pushed past overgrown bushes and cut himself on the unruly thorns of roses that bloomed high and tickled his skin. Against the sound of his own panting heard the laughter border on hysterical, footsteps hitting the ground behind him swift, almost light.

Leaves crunched underfoot. Earth squished.

Plop, plop, plop…

Shadows darted past him and something soft touched raw skin. A warm caress in the autumn twilight if not for the body he ran into and the hands that snaked around him, wrapped tight and refusing to let go. Claws pressed into his back and breath tickled his ear.

"Gotcha."

A scream tore itself from his throat, with no one to hear.

In the silence that followed, a soft weeping knowing the end was near even as the body refused to give up and he dug his heels into the ground. The slow dragging of his body against his will by the hand around his wrist persisted, past the bubbling brook and the meadow his friend disappeared in. Past bare trees until his feet hit stone and they walked, together, up a path leading to a shambled hut peeking through the low, purple glow of overarching trees. Next to the hut, the tiniest candle with a flickering, almost-dead flame.

He flinched when he felt a claw drag down his cheek. Harsh, but not as harsh as the unforgiving sting of the wind lashing his face.

"Don’t you want to be consumed by what loves you?"

[inonibird]

More of my Death Cleric Sunshine, backstory edition! Recently my DM and I fleshed out a fair bit about the relationship he had with the necromancer who raised him (uh, not literally). 

Suffice it to say, Tarsus was NOT prepared to deal with a child. :’)

[amnevitahwritesstuff]

Another sneak peak of an upcoming Halloween fic, this one called A Deal With Death.

⎯◇⎯◉⎯◇⎯◉⎯◇⎯◉⎯◇⎯◉⎯◇⎯◉⎯◇⎯◉⎯◇⎯

The first time Feyre met Death, she was six. 

She had been climbing a tree. Of course, she’d been told not to. But Feyre was nothing if not a rebellious child, and so she had climbed it anyway. 

Perhaps she should have listened to her parents. 

The fall was both sudden and entirely expected. Her sisters had warned her that climbing trees was dangerous. And yet, she found herself laying on the ground anyway, staring dazedly up at the sky. 

“Hmm,” she heard someone say and then a strange man appeared over her, blocking out the sun. 

He wasn’t anyone she recognized, though, admittedly, most adults looked the same to her. She felt she would’ve remembered this one though. He had an interesting smile. Sly, like a cat’s. And his eyes…she wondered idly if she had a crayon that color. 

“No more crayons for you I’m afraid,” the man said kindly, though his smile had turned sad. 

Feyre frowned. “My Mommy told me to not to talk to strangers.” 

“Ah, but you see I’m no stranger. I’ve known you all your life.” 

Her brow wrinkled further as she squinted up at his pretty dark hair and unfamiliar features. 

“That’s alright,” he said softly. “I don’t expect you to remember. But it’s time to go now.” 

“Go…where? Mommy will be angry if I’m not back for dinner.” 

“You’ll see your mother again,” the man promised. 

She noticed that he didn’t say when. 

Quite suddenly, Feyre realized that they were alone. That she was alone. With a stranger. A stranger trying to take her somewhere. And she knew better than to follow a stranger anywhere. 

“No!” She yelled, scrambling to her feet. “Go away! You’re a stranger!”

The man sighed heavily, as if she were the one being unreasonable. 

“I’m sorry for this my dear. I wish we could have done this the easy way.” And then he reached forward to gently turn her around to stare at something just behind her. 

At first she wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at. Until she saw that it was another little girl, like her. Laying still and quiet in the grass. Was she taking a nap? Why hadn’t she seen her before?And then Feyre noticed that the girl was wearing the exact same Elsa shirt that she was at that very moment. 

Oh, she thought. 

And then she realized that the girl in front of her also shared her face. 

“I’m afraid you should have listened to your sisters sweet girl.” 

[therealgchu]

Snippet Sunday Spooky Action style

thanks for the tag, @fangbangerghoul!

i haven't been writing much this week. finally got over covid, but my lungs hate me, even more than usual. plus, air in colorado has been awful. so, i've been exhausted.

but, i do have something to share today! been working on chapter 2 for Spooky Action, and have enough to share now.

tagging the coemancer crew (sam is my coe-pilot stickers incoming!), and anyone else that wants to share something.

Chapter 1 of Spooky Action at a Distance.

my other stuff lives on ao3.

sneaky peeky

She nodded. “Two hours to kill.”

“Yep,” he agreed.

They sat in silence for several minutes staring out the windows. “We could play some poker,” she suggested.

“I’m not playing poker with you. I know better than that,” he answered

“Coward,” and she smiled mockingly at him.

“Not afraid. Just not stupid.”

Min snorted in response. “Or, we could just sit here with thumbs up our asses.”

“I’ve got better uses for my thumbs, personally, but you do you.”

Min got up from the captain’s chair, shot him an indecipherable look, then headed to the galley. “I’ll give you and your thumbs privacy, then,” she called over her shoulder.

“What?” he asked, flummoxed. “Why does everything lead to sex for you?” he asked as he followed her into the galley.

“Oh, c’mon, you can’t tell me that yours doesn’t, either,” she answered as she pulled out a water drink pack out of the fridge and lobbed it to him, then grabbed one for herself. She leaned insouciantly against the stove and peered at him with a penetrating gaze, taking slow slips from the straw.

He caught it out of the air and sat down at the table, not making eye contact. He hated to admit it, but she wasn’t wrong. This was only the third day since he came aboard, and being in close proximity to her for this long was like taking hit after hit of Aurora, and was super-charging both his memories and his libido. Even the first time they met, there was that connection, that instant attraction. And every time after, that connection and attraction grew.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“You!” The Emissary gasped, shocked at her entry onto the Scorpius. “How is this possible?” He changed his faceplate to transparent to show her his face.

She scowled at him, her eyes raking along the scar on the side of his face. “Are you always going to be The Emissary for me?” she demanded.

The Hunter chuckled maliciously, “Oh my, this is new,” he said snidely as he crossed his arms. “Star-crossed lovers meeting in the afterlife?”

“Hardly,” they both shot back in unison.

“Hrmph,” The Hunter snorted, but the cruel smirk remained.

The woman glared at The Hunter, but turned to The Emissary. “Don’t bother with the speeches. Just give me the key, and you won’t see me again.”

Sam, shocked, handed her the key without a word.

She spun on her heel and stomped out of the ship.

“If you don’t close your mouth, flies will get in,” The Hunter said amusedly.

Sam shook his head like he was waking up from a dream, “Get me to the Helix!” he shouted.

The Hunter emitted another malicious chuckle, “Following your lost love?” he said caustically. But, he sat down and, as soon as the woman’s ship detached, set course for the Helix. “I’m not doing this for you, you know. I’m intrigued as to where this is going. I haven’t seen anything like this before. And, as you know, novelty is a premium.”

[mollywog]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

I’ve been trying to work out a concept for a witchy one-shot and I think I’ve finally have something to write… now I need to flesh it out..

“You’re right Prim, He’s cute!” Madge proclaims, eyes fixed on her gazing ball.

A blush creeps across Katniss’s cheeks; luckily the pair of blonds perched in the corner of her room take no notice, too engrossed in the image in the orb. Katniss had refused to check in on her date, but her friend has no such qualms; Neither does her traitorous sister who had provided Madge the necessary information to spy on Peeta.

“He cooks too,” Prim squeals. “It looks like he’s packing a picnic!”

Madge catches Katniss’s eyes reflected in the vanity mirror, “and you’re really certain you want to sabotage your date?”

[laminy]

I figured today I'd post an ITBASM snippet I'd had written because my goal/plan is to be working on NaNoWriMo for all of November, so my mind will be on that instead.

Happy Hallowe’en, even though this very much has nothing to do with Hallowe’en.

“Baba!”

Rami looks up from the sink, confused. “Did you forget something?” Sami and Joe had just left the house to take Sami to school. So he really wasn’t expecting him back so soon.

Sami runs into the kitchen, bouncing up and down. He’s still wearing his jacket and hat and boots, and he has a huge grin on his face.

“Hello,” Rami says, drying his hands. “Did you forget something?” he asks again. 

“No!” Sami hops up and down a couple more times. “I’m not going!”

“Not going where?”

“Papa said the car can’t go!” Sami squeals and starts running around.

Rami walks over to the kitchen window, looking outside. Joe’s got a shovel, and is struggling to dig out the drive. He taps on the window, and Joe looks up.

“Can’t get out!” Joe calls. “Snow day!”

Rami sighs, and looks back at Sami. It’s not that he doesn’t like spending time with him, but he also wasn’t planning on entertaining him today. “What are we gonna do with you?” he asks.

“Can I play outside?” Sami asks.

“Let’s get you changed into something a little comfier,” Rami says. He looks over at Rosemary, who’s happily chewing on her bib in her bouncer. “Come along.” He picks her up, and follows Sami up to his room. He gets him out of his school uniform and into some play clothes, and then he bundles him up in some snowpants and his jacket. Rami leads him downstairs and opens the door, and Sami practically throws himself outside.

“Papa!”

Joe sets the shovel down, and wipes his brow. “What’s going on, kiddo?”

Sami stumbles in the snow, and pushes himself up. “Baba says I can play.”

“Be careful,” Joe says.

Rami shields Rosemary from the cool wind, and sticks his head outside the door. “Joe!”

“Rami!”

“Put the shovel down,” Rami says. “We’ll deal with it after the plough.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Joe says, and he tosses the shovel to the side. “Snow day!” He runs over to Sami and flops down in the snow.

“Your jeans are gonna be soaked,” Rami says.

“I don’t care,” Joe says, though he does kind of immediately regret it. He’s dressed for taking Sami to school, not for playing in the snow. 

“I’m gonna build a snowman!” Sami says. “Papa, help me.”

“What about you, Baba?” Joe asks.

“It’s a little chilly for Rosie,” Rami says. “But I’ll watch from inside for now.”

“I’ll make it by the window!” Sami says, and he hurries over to the sunroom— as fast as he can go with snow up to his knees, anyway.

“Call my besties!” Joe exclaims, as he follows behind Sami. “This is a great spot, kiddo.”

“I’m sure they’re working,” Rami says, but he goes inside anyway, and finds his mobile. Surprisingly, Gwil is off (Ben is attempting to work from home). Not surprisingly, they’re snowed in for the moment as well, but they’re working on getting out. 

Rami tosses Joe a hat and some gloves so he doesn’t freeze, and then he settles into the sunroom with Rosemary. He watches Sami and Joe through the window, smiling and waving whenever Sami looks up. When Rosemary’s older, they’ll be outside with them. Rami can’t wait. Right now, she’s still too little and it’s just a little too cold.

The snow plough comes by, and Joe holds on tight to Sami’s hand so that he doesn’t run closer. “Papa, look!”

“Oh, I see,” Joe says. “Cleaning off the road, helping us out.”

Sami waves eagerly at the snow plough driver, who honks the horn and waves back.

“C’me here,” Joe says, and he swoops down to pick Sami up. “You wanna keep watching or can we go warm up for a minute?”

“I wanna watch,” Sami says.

“Okay,” okay.”

They watch for a couple minutes longer, and then Joe takes Sami inside. Their snowman is a little rough looking, but Joe’s feet are cold, and he wants to see Rami and Rosemary.

“Who wants hot cocoa?” Rami asks.

“I do!” Joe says. 

“Me too!” Sami says.

“Let me see Rosie,” Joe says, and he walks over to her crib where she’s napping.

Sami gets out of his snow gear and climbs up onto his chair, watching Rami make their drinks.

“How is it outside?” Rami asks.

“Huh, cold."

“But fun?”

“Yeah, a lot."

“Good.”

“Baba, can I have marshmallows?”

“Oh, I think so,” Rami says. “A snow day treat.”

“Can I go out again?”

“Later, once you’ve warmed up,” Rami says. 

They’re all in the living room, drinking their hot cocoa, when there’s a knock at the front door, and then the heavy stomping of feet.

“Brr!” Gwil calls out. “It’s chilly!”

“My bestie!” Joe exclaims, and he smiles happily at Gwil when he joins them in the living room.

“Tell me you didn’t walk here,” Rami says.

Ben pops his head around the doorframe. “I drove.”

“That’s even worse,” Rami says. “Are the roads clear?”

“They’re not bad,” Ben says. “You wouldn’t let us stay if we got snowed in?”

“We don’t have any room,” Joe says. 

“Would you like a hot cocoa?” Rami asks.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Joe asks.

“The office closed today,” Gwil says.

“I am working, sort of,” Ben says. “I’ll look at my research later. But yes, I would love a hot cocoa. I can make it myself.”

“I’d love one too, love,” Gwil says. “Thanks.”

“I’ll help,” Joe says, and he hops up to follow Ben into the kitchen, probably to steal more marshmallows.

“How are the roads, really?” Rami asks.

“We could’ve stayed home,” Gwil says. “Little rough getting off the hill. But the main road is fine.”

“We’ve got to shovel,” Rami says.

“No, I recommend just staying home until it melts,” Gwil says.

“Uncle Gwil?” Sami asks, turning in his seat to look up at him.

“Yes,” Gwil says, leaning down over him.

“I made a snowman, do you want to see?” 

“Oh, of course I do,” Gwil says.

“I’ll show you.” Sami carefully climbs off the sofa and leads Gwil into the sunroom.

“Oh wow,” Gwil says, looking out the window. “Lovely, that. Brilliant job.”

“Do you want to play outside with me?” Sami asks hopefully.

“Can I have a hot cocoa first?” Gwil asks, and Sami nods eagerly, so Gwil leans to pick him up. “Let’s go bother Uncle Ben, then.”

“I don’t wanna be mean!”

Gwil chuckles. “You’re right, you’re right. Very bright old chap.”

“Can I have hot cocoa?” Sami asks.

Gwil glances back at the living room, confused. “Weren’t you already drinking one?” he asks.

“Yes, I was,” Sami whispers in Gwil’s ear. “But can I have more marshmallows?”

Gwil grins at him, and presses a playful kiss to his cheek. “It’s a snow day, Sami. I think we can all have extra marshmallows.”

[lavender-long-stories]

Hinata wasn’t supposed to get attached to enchanted tools. They didn’t have souls. What looked like emotion was just a product of whoever enchanted them and what they wanted them to be.

Why would you want such a sweet scarecrow? It made her heart hurt to think someone made him so darling and then abandoned him.

The Witch and The Scarecrow Pairing: Itachi x Hinata  Rating: G

A soft story about the witch on the hill and the scarecrow that appeared one day.

Tags: Romance | Fluff | Witch AU | Happy Ending

[naffeclipse]

Be on the lookout on October 1st

Please note this may be edited/changed when the fic is posted

[e17omm]

A short little bonus chapter for Snippets of Sirin Schariac's life

You can read chapter 66 here!

[nonuggetshere]

The dark figure loomed over him, like a shadow raising from the ground. An echo of the former warrior, now with their cloak torn and disarray, their one arm shaking around their rusty nail as they struggled to stand. Still, they fell to their knees, in the best attempt at a bow that their sorry state could muster. The sight made him chuckle bitterly.

"Even now, after all these years..." He reached out and gently placed his hand on the crook of their shell. "You're still not willing to let go...my child..."

These words made them flinch when they would have never flinched before. Their composure was wavering. When their self was previously hidden under layers of lies and denial, now he could see it plain as day.

He sighed heavily, looking beyond his former knight, at the kingdom that was once his. Now, nothing more than a shell of its former glory. How fittingly it complemented his dim light and his sacrifice's broken self.

"...Hallownest is gone... Our kingdom has fallen..." He looked back down at them, gently rubbing their shell. "There's nothing left to protect, nobody left to benefit from the lies we tell. There's no more use holding onto these shackles I've put on you. You've been suffering for long enough..." He gently cupped their chin in his hands and lifted their head until their eyes met. "So please, my child, let go of them. Let go of me...and live. Live the life I robbed you of."

They shook as they listened to him, dark grey tears slowly dripping down their face and staining the brilliant white shell. They let out a wheeze, something akin to a sob, the best their body could muster. He stepped closer, tenderly wiping their tears away with his thumbs and pressed their foreheads together.

"...Words cannot express how sorry I am...my brave little knight..."

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

Here's a random snippet from a fic I'm working on with no context :)

Ohhh-hohh ... chilling! This is SO good, Lottie! I can't wait to read it when it's finished. Thank you for sharing this with me! Tag me when you post it, 🙏 🙏 🙏. ♡♡♡

[amnevitahwritesstuff]

Sneak peak from another fic in my Halloween series, called The Hungry House.

•••◇•❖•◇•••◇•❖•◇•••◇•❖•◇•••◇•❖•◇•••

They quickly lost track of time in the House. 

There were no windows in any room they entered, the magical lamps being their only source of light. Was it day? Night? Mid-afternoon? Neither could be sure. Every day bled into the last until their lives became one endless series of doors and hallways. And every room they entered…grew stranger than the last. 

In one room the walls seemed to…melt. As if they couldn’t bear to hold their shape a moment longer. In another, gravity became a mere suggestion with furniture floating halfway to the ceiling. And in yet another room reality seemed to morph and bend in such exotic ways that Nesta was forced to slam the door closed before she could risk her brain leaking out of her ears. 

It was alive, this House. Nesta had always known this, of course, but it was never more clear than now when she spent her days wandering the halls and could hear the House groaning like a living thing. Sometimes she could even feel its breath as the air circulated through the hallways, as if she were standing in the throat of some great and terrifying beast that had swallowed her whole. 

And how did one even escape from the belly of such a beast?