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ym-loreposting · 1 year ago

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Dark Matter: a profile

Aside from King Dedede, the most reoccuring antagonist in the Kirby franchise are members of the enigmatic Dark Matter tribe. The tradition of Kirby final bosses being grotesque compared to the rest of the series really started with them and Nightmare in Kirby's Adventure. Unlike Nightmare however, Dark Matter went on to become somewhat of a series staple and when I think of spooky Nintendo lore, they often spring to mind. As such, in this blog post I want to explore Dark Matter.

Dark Matter Trilogy

The first appearance of Dark Matter was in Kirby's Dream Land 2, where it is the true final boss of the game. According to the game's manual, it was responsible for shattering the rainbow bridges connecting the rainbow islands together. It also possesses King Dedede and plans to turn Dream Land into a dark world to inhabit (specifically according to the Japanese Digital 3DS manual). What exactly this means is left unclear in this game. It apparently does this because it is lonely and wants friends, according to an excerpt from the January 2019 issue of the Japanese magazine Nintendo DREAM (translation from Wikirby):

最初に登場したダークマターには、友達が欲しくてちょっと寂しがりやなのでは…という設定も『星のカービィ2』開発当時の社内にあったようですので、今回のフレンズとハートの物語と親和性があるのではとも考えましたが、さすがにダークマターには今はまだ悪役を貫いてほしく (It seems that, when Dark Matter first appeared in Kirby's Dream Land 2, the developers had the idea that he was lonely and wanted to have friends. I thought that this could tie into this game's themes of "friends" and "hearts", but I'd of course prefer for Dark Matter to remain a villain for now.)

When all Rainbow Drops are collected in Dream Land 2 and King Dedede is defeated, the drops turn into a Rainbow Sword and Dark Matter emerges from Dedede. Dark Matter is fought in two forms: one resembling a swordsman and one an eye surrounded by darkness. Of the two, the latter is considered its true form.

Dark Matter returns in Kirby's Dream Land 3, but with heavier guns. The plan is much the same as in Dream Land 2, but this time the stakes are raised. A ball of darkness with a red eye in the center emerges from the depths of space and shatters the rings of Pop Star.

After arriving, the dark cloud spreads five tendrils to five corners of the planet and possesses six beings: Whispy Woods, Acro, Pon/Con, Ado and King Dedede. Kirby and his friend Gooey, who first appeared in Dream Land 2 captured by Dark Matter, set out to face this crisis. During it, they collect heart stars by helping the people of Pop Star and cleanse the darkness from each area by defeating one of the primary possessed beings. All of this culminates in a fight with King Dedede, who probably gets the worst deal out of the possession: a mouth and a Dark Matter eye in his stomach.

If all Heart Stars are gathered, they become the Love-Love Stick after Dedede's defeat. In a similar scenario to Dream Land 2, Kirby follows up Dark Matter to the heart of the black clouds, the Hyper Zone, and defeats Dark Matter. After Dark Matter is gone, a new being called 0 appears. It is a red eye in a larger white body, from which it can spawn smaller Dark Matters. Once 0 is defeated, the Hyper Zone and the black clouds around it collapse. It is thus implied 0 is the source of Dark Matter and may have been behind the events of Dream Land 2 as well.

Another thing that Dream Land 3 adds to the Dark Matter lore has to do with Gooey. According to the manual of the game, he is made of "the same stuff" as Dark Matter but he doesn't have an evil spirit. He also takes on a form similar to Dark Matter during the final battle, which later games have dubbed Mock Matter. Beings can thus be made of the same dark substance as Dark Matter while not being evil. This also adds an additional layer to Gooey in Dream Land 2, as he was captured in that game. Perhaps Dark Matter put him on Pop Star in the first place as a captive.

The final game in the so-called Dark Matter Trilogy is Kirby 64: The Crystal Shards and it involves a plot similar to that of Dream Land 3. Instead, this time the Dark Matter beings target a different planet: Ripple Star, where Fairies live. One of the Fairies escapes with the planet's precious Crystal and three Dark Matters give chase, leading them to Pop Star. This is how Kirby gets involved and the three Dark Matters do their possession shtick: on a Waddle Dee, Adeleine and King Dedede.

After Pop Star, the first world of the game, Dark Matter beings do not play a large role until the end of the game. But the game does introduce a whole slew of new Dark Matter beings. The first is Miracle Matter, who controls the black clouds covering Ripple Star. It has the appearance of a many-sided die, some sides covered in red eyes, and it can take on copy ability-esque forms: Bomb, Burn, Cutter, Ice, Needle, Spark and Stone. The black clouds controlled by Miracle Matter also spit out N-Z enemies, indicating they are made of darkness as well.

The final major Dark Matter being in Kirby 64 is 0², who possessed the Queen of Ripple Star. If Kirby and his friends manage to repair the Fairies' Crystal, the darkness possessing the Queen is dispelled and forms the Dark Star. Inside lurks 0², who resembles 0 but also has an angel motif. This might indicate he is 0 resurrected from the dead, though the relation between the two has thus far been kept vague. Both 0² and Miracle Matter appear to be sources of Dark Matter and dark clouds, similar to 0 at least. When 0² is defeated, the Dark Star collapses similarly to the Hyper Zone and the threat of Dark Matter is dispelled once more.

The final game to introduce a Dark Matter being without much ambiguity is Kirby Squeak Squad. A lot of the game revolves around collecting a particular treasure chest. When it is opened by antagonist Daroach, he is enveloped in a black smoke and turns dark. After his defeat, it is revealed he was possessed by Dark Nebula, a being with an eye similar to both incarnations of 0. It has hallmarks of a Dark Matter being, such as possession, a red eye and even has elemental powers similar to Miracle Matter. It also seemingly creates a black hole near Pop Star after it is released. This all makes sense, as its Japanese name is ダークゼロ or Dark Zero. In addition, it is also not called Ruler of the Underworld in Japanese but 暗黒の支配者/あんこくのしはいしゃ (Ruler of Darkness).

It is interesting to note that this Dark Matter being was not roaming around freely in space, trying to create dark worlds or wanting for friends. Instead, it is sealed in a chest and Meta Knight seemingly knows this, as he tried to keep the chest out of the hands of Kirby and Daroach's Squeaks. This potentially suggests there is a history of Dark Matter invasions that goes back futher than just Dream Land 2.

Origins of Darkness

Starting with Kirby's Return to Dream Land for the Wii and under the directorship of Shinya Kumazaki, the Kirby series became more lore focused. Of this new era of Kirby, Star Allies goes the most in-depth about Dark Matter through the being of Void Termina, the final boss of the game.

Void Termina itself is not a Dark Matter being, but more of an empty creature that is influenced by the energy that surrounds it. This is explained in an interview with Kumazaki. Due to this, during the final battle, he takes on the appearance of Kirby and Dark Matter. Kirby because it is the first thing he sees when being unsealed and Dark Matter due to the darkness gathered by the people trying to revive him.

The people trying to revive Void Termina are a cult who worship him as a God of Destruction. According to their leader Hyness, they also worship "matters most dark" and they revive Void Termina by assembling a vessel he is contained in. This is the Jamba Heart, which consists of smaller Dark Hearts, and it is this darkness that Hyness and his minions gather. The Dark Hearts possess and twist the people that grab them, similar to Dark Matter possession. Due to this darkness, Void Termina takes on the appearance of Dark Matter during the final battle.

There is more background to Void and his relation with darkness however. According to the Japanese description of Void Termina, True Destroyer of Worlds (Phase 2), he is the originator of four types of matter: Soul, Heart, Dream and Dark:

夢ドリームが、闇ダークが、魂ソウルが、心ハートが… その物質に混沌と可能性が全て集い、淵源の祖となり生誕する。 (When the matters of dream, dark, soul, and heart gather... and combine with chaos and infinite possibilities, the ancestor from the origin is born.)

And according to the description of Hyness in the The Ultimate Choice mode, Void produced darkness at some point in the distant past before being sealed in the Jamba Heart by four heroes:

"All that was written about Void Termina in the ancient scrolls was the progenitor of darkness was vanquished by four heroes of yore, using four spears of the heart."

Void producing darkness may be the ultimate origin of the "Dark Matter" substance in the universe, which in turn may have given rise to 0, 0² and Dark Nebula and the rest of the Dark Matter beings produced by them. The "Dark Matter" substance is likely what is seen in Dream Land 3 and Kirby 64 forming Hyper Zone and Dark Star. Of note is that upon the collapsing, many Dark Matter eyes can be seen in Dark Star, similar to the red eye in the Hyper Zone.

Other appearances

In the Kirby series, there are several other beings that might be made of or are connected to Dark Matter, though it is a lot more loose:

Dark Matter Clone: a clone of Dark Matter's Dream Land 2 incarnation made by the supercomputer Star Dream. It appears in the Meta Knightmare Returns mode of Planet Robobot, which is set in a world parallel to the main Kirby one. It only appears in its swordsman form and wields the Rainbow Sword, based on its memories of his defeat at the hands of Kirby.

Dark Mind: a being inhabiting the world that lays in the Dimension Mirror. Its true form looks like a fiery version of 0 and it formed from evil minds gathering and being born in the mirror according to Kumazaki. These "evil minds" may be a form of darkness/Dark Matter substance. Of note is that Shadow Dedede, another being spawned by the Dimension Mirror, has similar attacks to Dedede's possessed form in Dream Land 3. A mix between Dark Mind and Shadow Dedede, King D-Mind, appears in the two Kirby Clash games.

Dark Crafter: a single-eyed smoke being that drained Dream Land of all its color in Kirby and the Rainbow Curse. It operates by possessing Claycia and during its fight, it is revealed that under its colorful appearance, it looks like it is made of darkness.

Conclusion

That is most of what there is to say about Dark Matter lore-wise. A persistent enemy in the Kirby canon that is made of pure darkness and can twist the minds and appearances of those it possesses, with a potential origin that goes back to a being worshiped as a God of Destruction. In short, a black of darkness spot in a series that is otherwise mostly cute and wholesome.

#kirby lore #dark matter #gooey kirby #void termina #dark nebula #zero two

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ambivalencez · 2 years ago

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Just friends?

Music fluttered from hidden speaker’s. The gentle sway of trumpet and tremble of a piano. With a white cloth in hand, you wipe the wooden counter. Closing time came in an hour as the last crowds left. The walls were luxurious mahogany. Sheik black lamps hung from the ceiling. Plants were tethered around here and there. Behind you on the wall was a blackboard menu.

It was just you, wiping your hands on your apron. You let out a sigh your feet were killing you. Crossing the counter you sprayed down the circular tables wiping them down. Without people in here, all that accompanied you were the soft music and hum of light bulbs. Indoor the ambiance, is warm compared to the biting chill outdoors.

Grabbing the remote the screen the morning customers watched the news on flickered to life. You were doing anything to pass the time really. Dressed cozy in a black turtle neck and wool pleated pants. An apron adorned your hips. You figured you’d have your last cup of coffee for the evening. Popping back behind the counter. A regular coffee with hazelnut creamer. Topped with, cinnamon, and drizzled in caramel.

Getting on your phone to check the

temperature. Cold air billows in at the chime of a bell. Frigid air licked against your cheeks, as your eyes encountered the customer. A chilled pink nose expressive green eyes. Tousled auburn hair. Lovely, is what you would say at the sight that greeted your eyes— but you settled for. “Hello, menu’s on the blackboard. let me know when you're ready to order?”

Startled by the customer service. You were able to take more of her in. She wore a tan peacoat. A pale cozy rested on her neck. Playing with your phone you drank from your cup. “What are you drinking?”

“It’s regular coffee with hazelnut creamer, drizzled caramel, and cinnamon.”

“I don’t see that on the menu,” She rubbed her hands together.

“Since i own the place. I can make whatever drinks I like. Would you like a custom drink? It’s awfully cold and no one else is going to show up.”

“That sounds festive, Can I get what you are having?” Wanda’s eyes sparkled. In the background, the tv reporter’s person chatting away blah blah Avengers. Showing a scene of a collapsing building.“Sure, for here or to go?” You wonder what she’s doing out here. It’s Christmas Eve for god sake, you could see her surrounded by a large family. laughing by a well-lit tree. You wouldn’t think about it to much. You had your own stuff to deal with. Mind your business as they say. “Here.” Her eyes met yours for a moment burnt. Almost seemingly conveying a lost feeling. Turning around you grabbed a cup pouring coffee. Add cream and stir it sprinkling the toppings. “I’m surprised you haven’t recognized me.” Chuckling while whipping up the drink up. “What are you? Some sort of celebrity a model, or actor? No, singer? With your looks, I bet you could probably pull any of those off.” You mumbled. Glancing to the side you see a stack of cups floating surrounded by red tendrils. “Huh, nifty.” Setting the cup on the counter. Her face wore a frown. “You aren’t afraid.”

“Should I be?”

“Most people are.”

“Life is full of chaos, more often than not beautiful things are full of inconsistencies. You never know what’s around the corner something new, scary, or wonderful. If you wanted to hurt me you would have done it already. Now, what name should I address you as? Oh, spooky sorceress.” Taking the cup she set her bag down nestling on the barstool. “Wanda, and I can read your mind,” Wanda smiled in her cup. Sticking your nose in the air you cross your arms “Bah, details.” Licking your lips a rush of panic ran through your veins. No not bah details she knew your secret. “So, you know?” Wanda fiddled with her cup. “I’m sorry” Running your hands through your undercut. “Don't be we are similar, aren't we? I could feel it the moment i saw you. If anything I'm sorry you had to see what i was thinking.” Sitting across from her you leaning on your palm. If anyone came across the pair of you you’d come off as a couple right now.

“Eh, since you saw my junk. How about you tell me about yourself?” Holding her hand over her mouth, Wanda squinted her eyes almost spitting her coffee out. A wretched grin spread across your face. “That was evil!” Handing Wanda napkins. You reseat yourself cackling. Wanda paused sure how to do this? She was so used to people already knowing who she was. Reaching her hand out “Nice to meet you i’m Wanda Maximoff.” Taking Wanda’s hand you shook it. “Yn/Ln.”

You managed to invite Wanda for dinner. It had been six months since your meeting at the cafe. Dozens of calls texts had flowed back and forth. Cat pictures, meals, and little exchanges of hello’s and how are you’s? You liked to send her funny gifs along with dumb jokes.

What did she see in you to keep talking? Now that was a mystery? Wearing your earbuds listening to old jazz. While the oven-baked the meatballs. Once more you dawned your apron. Boiling pasta on the stove. You sang along to ‘Come fly with me’. As you ruminate on your existence. This would be the first time you had company. Wanda would arrive at your apartment by 6:30 pm.

Insistent she brings something you suggested a bottle of wine.

Prepping the plates and silverware on your black dining room table. Drying the inside of wine glasses you didn’t know what you were thinking? You didn’t care she was an Avenger. To you, she’s a good friend. She had peaked your lethal flaw curiosity. You liked learning about other people and what they thought and how they worked? In an attempt to somehow make sense of your own existence. That flapped around like a feeble little fly in a world of people with extraordinary capabilities.

All over the world people experienced rapid change. After consuming fish oil pills. That’s when your problems began. People online were calling it Terrigenesis. Groups formed online in an attempt to figure out what caused it. Since the transformation all occurred suddenly around the same time period. The common denominator is unassuming fish oil pills. The internet exploded

some began selling it for millions. People were lining up at the chance to get powers. That was put to a stop by the government. When many people were found dead by their families. Those exact same pills had taken your adopted family's life. Worse of all the government and other nefarious organizations were trying to locate the Inhumans. You were living a shattered life. Trying to pick up the pieces and get through the day. You had no desire to be dissected experimented on or become a tool.

Before the Terrigenesis, you were a college student attending UCLA. Everything changed after that Christmas holiday. You went home your mom was the same old nag. Badgering if you’d been taken care of yourself. Not to drink to much and eat right. Your father sat in the corner mirthfully sipping coffee. A whole pile of vitamins on a napkin next to him. Slamming a handful of vitamins in your hand. There one second, gone another nothing but a sad pile of ash.

Admittedly you were dumb and fled. You knew one thing for certain Captain America, Hulk, Abomination. Science experiments never go well...You

couldn't even go to the comfort of friends, lest they ask about your family. Taken out of the middle of class in handcuffs. The police questioned you. What you were doing that day? Did you go home for the holiday? Did you murder your parents? They held you for as long as they could. Polygraphed you made you ball your eyes out. When everything came back clear they let you go. The damage had already been done. Your peers looked at you suspiciously. You couldn't go to your parent's funerals or back to your hometown. Everyone you once knew looked at you with suspecting eyes. Your whole hometown assumed you murdered your parents.

You felt it all, like a twisting knife in your gut. Becoming a pariah disgust and malice dripped off people. You dropped out changed your name and moved cities. Started taking business courses online. Set your roots down and opened that little coffee shop you always wanted. You could tap into others' emotions. It was invasive and annoying. You knew when people were lying to your face. It pretty much ruined your dating life to. Being around Wanda was a blessing you didn’t feel anything if she didn’t want you to. No invasive inappropriate or uncomfortable feelings. She knew the truth, what happened to your parents. Never judging you for a second on your actions.

You woke up with your nose dry, throat clogged eyes sore. With hair sticking to your face, your tongue felt like sandpaper. That must have been some bottle of wine. To make a health nut like yourself ignore the label. Opening your eyes you couldn’t move. Not that you wanted to if felt so long since you felt so warm or safe. A certain someone’s arms were around you. Her chest lulling,__ this has been the closest you’ve ever seen her. The dim slivers of moonlight trickling in between blinds. The soft pittance of her breaths.

Down her brow bone descending high cheekbone highlighting her lips.

Her beauty was like the flickering of candles. Once in a lifetime then gone forever. Her arms encircled your torso tight. She wasn’t to call yours but you didn’t mind. After losing your entire family during Terrigenesis you savored any warm touch you could get. One thing you did enjoy though was teasing Wanda. It annoyed her how your thoughts came out. They were apparently mumbled whispers. Distracting one moment you would be chatting. The next she would be making a pouting pinched face.

‘To cute’ you thought. Yawning you snuggled back into her chest. Caught in grips of Hypnos Wanda’s gentle fragrance lulled you to sleep. As you slumbered her eyes cracked open. Wanda felt when you woke up. She read your mind to make sure you weren’t having a nightmare. Her finger nimbly massaged your scalp. Wanda’s heartfelt shaky. You were so pure, it made everything seem worth saving. And she contemplated if someday, when you were ready to open your heart again. If you would be hers.

#wanda fluff #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x you #wanda mcu #marvel women

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itcantbe · 3 years ago

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Zelink Week 2021: Day 4

Hello and welcome to day 4 of @zelinkweek2021 (I remembered to tag it this time!). Today's prompt is "Trust: Broken/Forged." I tried to address both aspects in this chapter of "Under the Boardwalk." Just a reminder this story is rated M and will shift to E with the last chapter (but the E bit can be skipped if you want). This chapter takes place the night of the first chapter, if you're getting confused with the timeline. Yesterday's chapter took place sometime in the future. Enjoy!

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | Read chapter 3 on ao3

Under the Boardwalk: We'll be Fallin' in Love

Ice cream. Coffee. A movie.

“What’s in here?”

Dinner. Ice skating. Mini golf.

Link can’t help thinking of better date ideas than sneaking around the amusement park he works at after hours. He had hoped they might walk around a bit, Zelda would get her fill of the empty park and they could leave and go do something else. Though he holds out some hope that she might get a little scared, and maybe clutch his arm to her chest, crushing it between her breasts as she clings to him. He’s distracted by the idea for a moment, until he hears the rattle of a doorknob.

“Don’t — ! That’s an electrical room, it supplies power to some of the lights. It’s dangerous.”

“Then why isn’t the door locked?”

Link takes Zelda’s arm, hoping he can pull her away from the door plastered in signs that say WARNING! and DANGER! with pictures of little sad people surrounded by lightning bolts. He attempts a distraction.

“Why don’t we go look at The Molduga? We can sneak into the part in the middle where it’s like a little forest.”

He hears a little click before Zelda turns to him, flashing a brilliant smile that makes his insides go watery.

“Ooh yes! Let’s go!”

And then she does take his hand, and he feels a thrill, glad she can’t see the goofy grin that crosses his face as he turns to lead her into the park.

******

Link knew where there was an opening in part of the fence that surrounds The Molduga, the giant wooden roller coaster that’s the main attraction of Hyrule Castle Amusement Park. The Molduga has been the highlight of the park for decades, and over the years a mini-forest grew inside each of the loops and curves the ride takes as it sprawls around the north side of the park. Of course, they don’t want people going in there when the ride is open, so they put up a fence that surrounds the ride on all sides.

But the fence is nearly as old as the ride, and hasn’t been well maintained in all of its years of existence. Much like everything else at the park, regular maintenance was allowed to slide in the name of maximizing profits. The fence has developed several gaps and holes over time, and the wooded areas of the interior are a favorite place for park employees to hide out while on break, to have a smoke or a nip or just enjoy nature for a minute before you have to submerge yourself in the tourist hordes again. Link knows of a gap in the fence hidden in the backside of the ride, where the track runs by the main fence between the park and the parking lot.

Maybe she’ll get bored and we can leave, Link thinks as he leads Zelda there. Surely by now she has been satisfied with the relative spookiness of the park after closing and is willing to head off and do something that’s actually fun. He can barely see her in the darkness of this part of the park, the black ball cap she put on covering her golden hair, her dark shirt and pants hiding the rest of her. He had to admit he’d been hoping she would wear some night-time version of what she wore each time he saw her at the park, the little dresses that left her shoulders bare and showed off a lot of thigh. The dresses that often came to mind when he had some time to himself at night before bed.

He had been surprised when she arrived to meet him that night.

“You look … uh, you look nice,” he said, rather stupidly. She always made him kind of stupid.

Zelda saw right through him, smirking as he scrambled to seem gentlemanly despite his obvious disappointment.

“Well I don’t think strappy platform sandals would have been very practical for sneaking around, do you?”

No, but they did nice things for her legs and he liked the pretty pink nail polish she wore on her toes.

“I … uh … I guess not.”

He wasn’t an eloquent guy on the best day but this was getting pathetic. He was nervous, and she made him feel so flustered.

“Besides, this way I can blend into the shadows so we don’t get caught!”

She brought out a black ball cap with a flourish and put it on her head in one smooth motion before turning to him and winking.

“So let’s go!”

Link’s brain shut down when she winked at him, nothing but white noise for a moment, only coming back online once he saw her head off into the dark, and he scrambled to catch up with her.

Despite him being the supposed tour leader, it was Zelda who led him about the park, asking questions and taking off with “Ooh, what’s over there?!” so often that he felt like he was constantly just trying to keep up. He should be used to the feeling by now, he thinks. He’s always attempting to keep up, and never quite making it.

But this time he led her, pulling the fence open so that she could go in.

“Are there a lot of gaps in the fence like this?”

“Um … yeah. I only know about this one but there’s gaps all over. I don’t think they do a lot of inspections.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“I guess.”

“Hmm.”

He followed her through, then took the lead again, hoping he remembered where the little clearing was that had the least amount of trash in it and had a fallen log they could sit on. It was a nice area, a little further in than most employees were willing to go, and so it was relatively clean and untouched. Maybe they could sit for a while. Maybe she would let him kiss her. Maybe she would kiss him. Maybe they could do a lot of kissing. Maybe she would push him down into the grass and let him run his hands up the inside of her shirt … Lost in his daydream, it was a minute before he realized she wasn’t behind him, and turned to see her jogging up to him.

“I stopped to tie my shoe,” she said by way of explanation.

“Oh,” Link said, confused. Why hadn’t she said anything? He would have waited for her.

“Just a bit more,” he told her.

He took a right where the tracks crossed each other, soaring a hundred feet over their heads, and followed the wooden framework that criss-crossed in a huge lattice to support the ride in the air around … and there they were. He stepped over a piece of the wooden framework that had fallen; there were a few of those around, pieces dropped off the antique ride frequently. Link realized what he’d thought was a log was actually one of the giant cross beams from the ride that had fallen who knows when and had grown soft and green with moss.

“Is this part of the ride?” Zelda asked as she sat next to him.

“Yeah, this ride is pretty old and parts fall off a lot.”

“That doesn’t seem safe!”

“Well, I’m sure they replace them.”

“When?”

How was he supposed to know?

“I dunno. I’m just. Sure they do.”

“Do they ever shut the ride down for any reason? Like for safety? Or if someone gets hurt?”

Link laughed.

“No, they never shut down the Molduga. It makes them too much money.”

She hummed thoughtfully at that.

It was a lovely night, the heat of the day having dissipated, a cool breeze soughing through the trees. Without the crowds of people, the noise of the cars and the roar of the rides, it was peaceful, the noise of the city distant and muted. It was, dare Link think it, almost romantic.

“Oh!” he heard Zelda exclaim next to him. “You can see all the stars!”

Link looked up. She was right, the sky twinkled with a number of stars that couldn’t be seen normally with the light pollution of the park and the city. He leaned in a bit closer to her. He could smell her perfume, the one she wore every time he saw her, the one that had rooted itself in his brain, that he thought he could smell every time he thought of her. Which was a lot. The scent pulled his attention away from the sparkling wash of the stars and back to Zelda, and he resisted the impulse to bury his nose into her neck and breathe her in.

“Zelda, can I k—“

“Do they ever shut down any of the other rides for repairs?”

They spoke at the same time.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Ah, forget it,” he mumbled, the moment gone. “Um, I don’t think so … Can’t we … can’t we talk about something else? Why do you even want to know?”

He could see her eyes widen in the dark as she looked at him.

“Oh … I was just curious!”

He’s struck with the realization that they rarely talk about anything else. Even before, when she would come and talk to him at his booth. Questions about the security at the park. About the rides. About the money. About Mr. Ganondorf, like Link would know anything about that. An icy tendril of dread began to worm its way through his middle, wrapping around his stomach and snaking its way up to his heart.

He stared at his hands, not really seeing them, but unable to look at her, either.

“You’ve been asking me a lot of weird questions. And wanting to look at a lot of weird stuff.”

Link began to feel very, very foolish. Foolish for ever thinking someone like Zelda would actually be interested in him. He should have known.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

“What is this really about?”

Because it's not about me, is it, he thought.

He heard Zelda sigh.

“Link … I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t help the groan of dismay that crawled out of his throat at her words, pushing his hands into his hair as he dropped his head onto his knees. He laced his fingers over the back of his head as if shielding himself from more disappointment.

It had been such a shitty year. After struggling through a few semesters of college, anxiety had finally gotten the better of him, and he dropped out when his grades slipped and he was in danger of failing. He had taken the amusement park job because it was easy, and he thought it might be fun, and it would keep his dad off his back. But it turned out standing in a game booth all day was really boring, yet also exhausting, leaving him with just enough energy to get on the bus home and collapse in his bed. Of course once he dropped out his student loans had come due, and all of his income went right into the payments. He had no degree, no goal in life, no energy, and no money. And no Zelda.

His voice was hollow and muffled as he spoke into his knees.

“Do you even have a sister?”

Her silence told him all he needed to know. Zelda had told him that her family had a season pass to the park and she was chaperoning her sister while she ran around the park, which is why she was there so much.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m an only child.”

Link sat up, covering his face with his hands as if he could hide from the truth. Zelda had been the bright spot of the summer, appearing at his booth one day like some gift from the goddess. She was so beautiful, and he couldn’t believe it when she came up to talk with him one morning, not long after he started working at the park. He had mumbled and stuttered, and yet, a couple of days later, she’d come back and talked with him some more. And then a few days later, again. Soon he was jumping at every blonde head of hair he saw, scenting the breeze like a dog seeking her perfume. It made coming into work bearable, almost exciting, the hope he might see her enough to get him through the day.

She had played him. She’d used her short dresses and big green eyes and played him for the horny idiot he was. Link felt like his heart was going to crack in half.

“Why?”

He jerked his hands away from his face and looked over to her. Zelda sat on the log next to him, shredding a dead leaf in her fingers. She continued to stare at her hands as she spoke, as if she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

“I’m a reporter with the Hyrule Star Fragment. I think something bad is going on in the park. I needed some way to get access to the inner workings of the park so I could gather evidence.”

“And I was that access.”

Link gave a bitter laugh.

“I should have known,” he said, as much to himself as to her. “I should have known someone like you wouldn’t really want someone like me. Well, I hope you got all the information you needed. I hope it was worth it.”

Link stood up to leave. He didn’t need to sit here and continue to be humiliated.

“Come on, I’ll show you back to your car.”

“Link, wait! Please, let me explain.”

He stopped, arms wrapped around his middle like he could hold all of his heartache inside of him. He turned around to look back at her, still seated on the log, face just a light blur in the deep shadows of the trees.

“Mr. Ganondorf is not a good person. This park is dangerous, and people are getting hurt.”

“So? What does that have to do with me?”

Zelda huffed in exasperation, then stood and came over to him. She stood close to him, so close he could feel the heat of her body. It seemed so intimate, like they were the only ones in the whole world, and he felt the stupid animal part of him react to it. He squashed it down and took a step back.

“People’s lives are ruined because they get hurt here and Ganondorf just covers it up. They are injured and he makes it out to be their fault and then they lose their jobs and their homes because of their medical expenses. That he should have paid for! The rides are dangerous and are in disrepair and it won’t be long before someone is killed!”

Link really didn’t want to listen. He didn’t want her to make him care. But the park employees talked. He’d heard some stories, stories about people getting injured, employees disappearing. He’d chalked it up to gossip, but maybe there was truth to it. Maybe it wouldn’t be long until he was next.

“I’m trying to gather evidence so I can write an exposé for the paper. Help people to learn the truth about this park and what happens here. But I can’t do it alone. I’m sorry I misled you—”

“Lied to me.”

Zelda sighed.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I didn’t think … I didn’t think you’d want to help me. So I did what I thought would work. I didn’t think I’d …”

She dropped off there, leaving whatever she thought he’d do unsaid.

“You didn't think you'd what? You used me. How far would you have gone to keep me on a leash, telling you whatever you wanted? Would you have kissed me? Would you have fucked me? And then what, just dropped me once you got what you wanted?”

Link’s hurt and anger had boiled up so hot in him it made him nasty. He never talked like this to anyone, but it was as if all of his pent up rage at failing out of college, having to move back home, having his dad on his case at all times, had come pouring out. He hated himself more in this moment than he had all year. And he already hated himself quite a bit. But the words had been said and there was no taking them back now.

“No! I’d never!”

Link suddenly felt very weary, the rage flooding out of him almost as soon as it had filled him up.

“Then what?!”

Link had wanted to shout at her, but instead, his question came out as a quiet plea. His anger was quickly replaced with desperation. He just wanted to know how he fit into her grand scheme before they left the park and he never saw her again.

Zelda was silent for a moment, as if she battled over what to say to him. Or maybe she was just cooking up more lies to string him along some more.

“I didn’t think I’d actually like you,” she said, sounding defeated. “I thought I’d … I thought I’d just flirt with you, and ask you some questions, and maybe you’d show me around the park like you did. And once I knew where to go to get the answers I needed, I could disappear from your life and do what I needed to do.”

Link scoffed. He didn’t think his self loathing could get any worse but the way his heart lifted when she said she liked him proved him wrong. He just wanted so badly to have one right thing in his life.

“I hated lying to you, but by this time I didn’t think I could tell you the truth. I had planned to do as much as I could tonight and then …”

“And then drop me after that, right when I thought I had a chance.”

The fact that she wouldn’t meet his eyes confirmed that theory.

“Let’s just go,” he sighed, and started to walk away.

“Link, please!” she cried, and grabbed his hand. In his mind he yanked his hand out of her grasp and stalked away, indignant. In reality, he stopped, once again relishing the feeling of her hand in his.

“I promise, no more lies,” Zelda said, quietly and urgently. “But I do need your help. I need employee access into the park. Ganondorf cannot be allowed to continue to ruin people’s lives just to make himself richer. And I’ll try to make it up to you.”

He huffed a disbelieving laugh.

“How?”

“Let me at least buy you dinner, and I’ll answer any of your questions. And if you want to part ways after that, then fine. And if not … maybe we can do this together.”

He looked at her, her hopeful face bathed in the light of the newly risen moon. Despite the lies, despite all of the deception, he believed her. He still felt like he should say no, remain on his high horse and leave her behind, drop her just as she had planned to drop him, but as usual, he was weak to anything she asked from him. It was just one night, Link reminded himself. He wouldn’t have to see her again if he didn’t want to.

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “But I pick the restaurant.”

Zelda exhaled in relief.

“Oh thank you, Link! I promise you won’t regret it!”

Before he knew what was happening, she’d leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before yanking on his arm and dragging him out of the trees, through the gap in the fence, and out of the park, all without being spotted by security, just as he’d said.

Link thought he probably would regret it. But in the end, he decided he didn’t care.

#zelink week 2021 #my writing #my fic #under the boardwalk #legend of zelda #zelink #zelink fic #modern au #theme park au #Poor Link #I'm sorry I enjoy making you sad #but it gets better I promise #zinkwink2021

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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

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Closer | Hugo Stiglitz x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Hugo Stiglitz x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: stranded in a spooky village, Stiglitz confesses his feelings, but she’s caught off-guard and panics. Back at the base, though, she’d like to see where the future takes them. (Requested by my new and unexpected love for this man)

✏️ Prompts by peaskyblonders (link below): # 4, 5, 7, 19, 20

✏️ A/N: the truth is, I should write more blowjobs instead of fearing new fandoms. HAHA. Italics are supposed to be German (unless it’s for emphasis). Prompts used are in bold. Kudos to @kind-wolf for throwing this new obsession at me without warning 💛 Also, please, for the love of all that is holy, listen to Closer by Kings of Leon (it probably has close to nothing to do with this story, but I had it on loop as I wrote and it’s absolutely stunning – and it did give me a title in a time of need).

✏️ Warnings: 18+ ONLY (oral m/r, sex... haha + mentions of a bullet wound and of someone who’s not a pro poking around in it + plot... eh, kinda there, kinda a decoration lol)

✏️ Word-count: 4,785

“Stop whining, it’s just a bullet!”

The voices in the room gradually quiet down to a churchyard silence when Y/N groans, surgical pliers still poking around in the hole in Smithson Utivich’s leg and face set into a frown. English sounds weird on her tongue, almost cut down with the wrong kind of knife, and there’s no safe hiding place for her German origins.

‘It’s just a bullet’ in my fucking leg – they all know those are the words Utivich was about to spit out like burning venom before he opts for the safest solution, the one that lies in silence. There’s a reason if her German accent keeps on being so prominent when she speaks English and that’s because she just does not speak English unless she absolutely has to. She’s more similar to Stiglitz in this than anyone would ever dare express out loud – she either speaks German or French, or she doesn’t speak at all.

“I should leave it in here,” she mutters again when Utivich’s leg jolts up and someone – Andy – has to step forward and keep it pushed down on the table. “You’d deserve it, stupid idiot.”

“It was an accident,” Smithson mumbles, voice low and full of embarrassment. Just half an hour ago he had been outside by a fire, drinking with the guys, until Donny convinced him to play some trick with what should have been an unloaded gun. “And you don’t have to take it out, we can wait for Wicki.”

When the door opens, everybody turns into its direction holding their breath, but it’s not Wicki.

“What happened here?” Aldo asks, brows set into an unconvinced frown as his gaze lands on Utivich first and then Y/N.

“Stupid Americans, that’s what happened.” But then she sighs, shrugs her shoulders, and pulls the bullet out of the man’s wound. “Children shouldn’t play with guns,” she glares. “Someone get off their ass and go call a fucking nurse.”

When half the men in the room scramble out, almost stepping on each other’s feet, Aldo Raine steps forward. He’s expression is set and unreadable as he examines Smith’s leg and a couple of minutes go by before he speaks again. “I need you and Stiglitz on a mission. I have an informer down south that says there’s a couple of Nazis you two might have the pleasure to take out.”

“How’s our exit?” Stiglitz asks, crouching down next to Y/N and taking the binoculars she’s passing him. She’s tense and he can see right through her façade, right through that ‘I don’t fear this has all gone to shit’ mask she’s been wearing for the past few days.

“Still no sign of our guy,” comes her whisper when he finally brings the field glasses to his face and stares off into the distance. “I’m scared, Stiglitz,” she confesses right after, before that temporary bravery stops her from opening up like that. “I have a bad feeling about this. It’s the same I had the day we got arrested.”

He says nothing to that, just stares at the horizon for another minute before he hands her back the binoculars and moves to sit down, his back against the wall of the abandoned house. It’s a spooky village, the one they’re using as their hideout, and the temperature during the day has already started to scratch like an angry cat. Winter is approaching quickly and right there, in the skeleton of what was once somebody’s home, there’s no running away from it.

“I should have gone myself,” she goes on as she scoots closer to him in search of some warmth. “Raine doesn’t know how these people work. You just can’t trust them. He thinks he can, but…” Her rambling dies down and he knows she’s thinking back to that night she’s had to take a bullet out of Utivich’s leg. He doesn’t know how he knows, he just does. He’s worked with her long enough to just be able to understand how her mind works.

“We’ll get back.” It sounds like a promise on his lips and whether he means it as such or not, it’s met with a soft sigh as she relaxes against his side, her head falling back in surrender against the wall. We’ll get back, the words echo in his mind and he does his best to believe them like she at least pretends to.

Neither of them says it out loud, but that’s why they’ve always worked solo – or just with each other after they met back in Bavaria. They’re good at this, good at driving Nazis out, and even better at taking them out. Not as good as the Basterds consider them, but they get the job done and move on to the next name on the list. They jump from name to name and never collab with anyone – or so it used to be before their arrest. Now they’re made to trust other people and that’s just not what they’re used to. You don’t go trust the next person; you don’t lay your life in their hands if you don’t know who they are and what they’ve done to survive.

“You should try and get some sleep,” he says when her stomach complains. Had they known how things would go, they would have packed more food. But they’ve had to ration what little they managed to stash into their backpacks before fleeing the town Raine had sent them to, and now they have to face the consequences. “I’ll keep watch, wake you up in a few hours.”

The old boards of the parquet creak under his boots when he stands up but it almost feels like those are his bones, turned cold and brittle by the still young winter. It’s surely not that long, but the last time he’s laid down feels like it belongs to a past life. A split second before he takes the first step forward, toward one of the rifles they left in a corner of the room with their stuff, her fingers wrap around his wrist and he’s rooted to the spot.

“How long has it been since you slept?” She tugs his arm when she stands up, inhaling sharply when half of her weight comes to rest on the foot she sprained the day before. And even though she’s been trying to shrug it off – because that’s what she does: she clenches her jaw and moves forward, that’s how it’s always been and probably how it always will be – he knows it’s been bothering her every time they move.

And much like her, he shrugs his shoulders once, frees his hand from her gentle grasp, and moves to pick his rifle up. It’s always a comforting weight in his arms but as he peeks from the empty hole that had once been a window, the heavy clouds in the sky make it feel like some sick kind of doom.

“Don’t do this, Stiglitz. Don’t close me off again.”

He doesn’t turn around when he corrects her – Hugo, not Stiglitz.

You never let anyone call you that – that’s what the look in her eyes tells when he eventually turns around and finds her staring at him. He’s been with her long enough and after a while, you just start reading people. All the unspoken words are paint strokes on a face that’s better than an open book; on a face that’s more like a canvas.

“Hugo.” The smile that stretches her lips is the tired shadow of what he knows could fool Nazis before he stepped in, his weapon of choice in his hands. “You go to sleep. I’m fine, really. By the looks of it,” she continues, hinting at the sky with a movement of her head as she stretches her arm out for him to hand her the rifle, “no one will come: it’s going to start snowing soon.”

He wakes up to a snow-clad scenery outside the open window – and to snowflakes dancing in the chilly air a few meters from him, in that opening (one of many) nobody’s stuck around long enough to fix. The snowflakes flutter as they fall, and it almost looks like white flour. It’s been a while since he last saw flour with his own eyes and that’s what tears him from the cozy embrace of slumber and brings him back to reality.

The smoky tendrils of a past life still alive in his dreams are still caressing the edges of his mind, though, faint echoes that mix together into unintelligible whispers. They stuff him with cotton and he needs a few minutes to feel the hard floor underneath his back, the chilly air biting at his cheekbones and nose.

There’s enough light for it to be day already and as that realization dawns down on him, wrapped as he is in his cold blanket, he jolts up to sitting.

“No one came, I told you.”

His head turns to the side so quickly he gets whiplash.

“And it snowed all night.” Her eyes are sunken in, her eyelids heavy with missed sleep and the constant worries that are gnawing at her from the inside and from which he still hasn’t managed to distract her. Shoulders weighed down by an invisible weight, she looks smaller and less dangerous than she really is.

“You didn’t wake me up.” His voice is still drowsy; the words don’t roll as freely on his tongue, so the accusation comes out as a simple observation.

She smiles. I never said I would, the faint twinkle in her eyes seems to say. “We’re waiting one more day,” she decides as she comes to a stand, stiffened hands still holding onto the rifle she’s hugged to her chest like a child the whole night. “But tomorrow at dawn we’re leaving, I don’t care about Raine’s spy.”

Silence settles again between them when she sits down next to him, in the corner further away from the chilly winds outside. They share her last chocolate bar, something she’s clung on to ever since she won it at poker more than two weeks ago. He stares at her as she eats, her head resting against the wall and her eyes closed. There’s a tear trickling down her cheek and it takes the dust that has settled on her skin away.

“I think I might be falling in love with you.” His confession hangs in the air, in the closed space between them. And all he can do is stare as that tear slowly rolls down her cheekbone. He can’t even remember when the last time he ate chocolate was and now that he has a piece in his hands, he can’t even chew on it.

Her eyes open slowly and she looks at him almost from underneath her lashes, her head still tilted back and at an angle. For the first time, he can’t read them as they focus on him, bore right into him.

He’s a man of few words. He opens up, but only with the right people and only so much. And he knows she’s just the same – bad at opening up, but not at talking – she talks maybe too much at times and while it would annoy him if it were someone else, he’s alright with her babbling on and on. About the weather, about the next target, about how stupid people are, how hungry she is, but never about before. Who she was, what she did, where she lived, whom she loved – those are still well-guarded secrets, and Stiglitz is not one to pry.

“Don’t.” She swallows hard eventually, almost as though she’s trying to swallow down her voice – or his confession. “There’s a war out there.” Her eyes move to his right, to the blown-open window behind him on the opposite side of the room. “People are dying.” Her jaw clenches and as she swallows, he sees her struggle, her attempt at not crying. “If something happens…”

He sits in silence, eyes set on her as hers try to avoid him. They do their best but ‘their best’ doesn’t seem to cut it, not this time.

“We fuck, that’s it. Just… fuck, from time to time.” It’s a whisper and her lower lip quivers as his words still shake her bones. When did war stop being scary? When did love become something to fear? Neither of them knows. Was it the first time they killed? The first time they enjoyed it? The moment they understood they had to keep on doing it in order to survive?

When she turns to look at him, it’s a desperate animal the one sitting in front of him. Her eyes beg him to stop, to take it all back, because they both know where that if something happens is bound to end. And it’s not six feet under, but rather, somewhere up there, on the surface; face up or face down into the mud, it doesn’t really matter. Maybe that’s what brought her to murder, he reasons for a second; maybe she’s lost someone she loved and that turned her into a spy and a murderer that knows no mercy.

Her hand is trembling as it digs into the pocket of his jacket, the one where she keeps cigarettes – they’re usually for him, but she never turns down a smoke, either. He knows it’s empty, for they smoked their last one two days ago, a crumpled up cigarette that seemed to last less than a minute that day.

“I’ll check the perimeter,” he eventually says, laying the last of his chocolate bar in her hands. He doesn’t meet her eyes, doesn’t utter another word as he takes the revolver from his pallet and leaves the room.

Three days later they’re both back at the camp base – no resentment between them, just the usual, content silence of two people that don’t always need to talk to work just fine. But while everything seems normal on the surface and they both enjoy the welcome-back celebrations at the tavern, they’re both lost in their own thoughts.

Hugo has stopped thinking about the fact that maybe he made a mistake when he confessed his feelings to her. Because she was right – there is a war out there, and it’s not even that far away, no matter how distracting the passing of shots of alcohol might now be. He stopped being a sentimentalist years ago, but if there’s a conclusion he’s come to, it’s that it’s better to spend your last days next to the people you love than running away from them.

There’s a couple of occasions in which he almost told her that.

The first was when they found a working telephone. Clothes soaked by snow and weapons now heavier than their backpacks, they sat in that empty house for hours, after calling one of Raine’s safe numbers, some French family collaborating with the Allies on the other end of the line. He had fixed the makeshift splint keeping her ankle in place and had reasoned, for the first time, that she shouldn’t have come, not this time.

The second was when they got back and the nurse managed to take her in only after the debriefing. She had smiled a I’ll find you later as Wicki dragged him away and the first thought his mind could form had been that he was glad that she seemed to always be able to find him anywhere.

But even though they’re sitting right next to each other now, shoulder pressed against shoulder as everyone seems like they want to sit at the same table, he can’t turn around and shake her awake. Why would he, though?

“We thought we’d never see the two of you again!” Donowitz is tipsy already and he doesn’t seem to notice how his drink sloshes out of his glass every time he moves his arm to gesticulate as he speaks. “Fucking bastards! You have nine lives, just like cats!”

Wicki’s laughter seems to drown out the roaring of the celebrations when he laughs. “I told them you’d both come back on your legs, still breathing,” he chuckles in German.

Y/N joins Wilhelm’s burst of laughter and then turns to her left and smiles up at him. It’s a weird thing, it reaches her eyes more than it does her lips and she seems on the verge of saying something before she shakes her head once and finishes her beer.

It’s midnight when she knocks at his door. Her knocking seems to echo through the whole once-abandoned house the Basterds converted into a place to stay, at least temporarily, for everyone’s still out drinking the winter away.

“I didn’t mean to turn you down,” are the words that greet him when he opens the door. He’s still only half-dressed after the bath he’s finally managed to take. “Back in that house. I got scared at the idea of something that might not even happen and I’ve spent the past few days thinking about what a gigantic fool I’ve been when I said those things. You took me off-guard because I thought I’d never love again, but…” She breathes in sharply and looks up at him, stares right into his eyes for the first time as she realizes she’s been rambling again. “Can I come in?”

Hugo nods and takes a step to the side before closing the door behind her. “You don’t have to say anything. I understand.”

“Oh, you and Wicki have a heater.” It’s soft and he almost misses it, but it’s gone before he can reply and she’s already back on the topic she’s most likely come to discuss. “I don’t know what I feel for you.” She doesn’t turn around when she speaks. Instead, she holds her hands close to the stove and sighs under her breath before she squares her shoulders again. “But I would like to find out, when we win this war. A while after you left, Raine started talking about how we’re all going to America when we take out the High Command and I realized that I could leave all of them behind but I couldn’t leave you.”

“I never considered the idea of leaving before.” He moves to stand next to her and hangs the towel he’s used on one of the hangers above the heater. “But we could,” he nods, turning towards her.

She’s looking at him this time, tired eyes staring at him from an even more tired face. But before she can add anything, he pulls her in and kisses her. He’s always preferred actions over words – words can be misinterpreted, but some actions…

Her hands are trembling when they move over his hips and then up his back, over the scars ridging his skin. She’s one of the few who’ve seen them – he’s not ashamed of them, but he does feel weird at the idea of showing them to others. It felt natural with her, though, almost as though they weren’t even there to begin with, the first time they slept together fully naked. It just, happened, it fell into place like anything else about her. She just fits in his arms, to his side, and when he’s inside her, his hips grinding against hers as they both lose themselves into each other and forget for a few precious moments what their survival revolves around.

“How’s your foot?” he asks in between kisses when he picks her up to lay her down onto his bed.

“Foot’s fine, don’t worry about it,” she laughs, her tone getting louder when he just drops her onto the mattress. Her laughter dies down when he settles between her legs, props himself up above her, his nose barely brushing hers. She smiles as he observes her, swipes his gaze across her features and breathes her in.

He contemplates saying something, but whatever innocence he had left at the beginning of his story has been swept away with his words by the things he’s done. He only moves when she speaks again – Kiss me, Hugo. That he does; he leans down and presses his lips against hers for a moment before his tongue comes out to swipe along her lower lip.

Her knuckles brush against his chest every time her hands move as they unbutton her shirt, a too-big garment she’s been given by God knows who. By the time she’s reached the last button and his mouth has moved down along her jaw and her neck to kiss her chest, she’s panting lightly, her hands wrapped around his biceps as he smiles against her skin.

She’s warm and smooth, even though there are irregular scars marking her skin. Just like his, they never matter, and even less when they get into bed together. His fingers just caress her and she this close to him is the only thing that truly matters in this moment. He kisses her collarbones, nudges his nose against the side of a breast before he allows himself to close his eyes and take a nipple into his mouth.

He feels the moan more than he hears it, it vibrates deep into her chest and almost buzzes against his lips as her fingers rake upward through his short hair. There’s a breathy moan of his name before his kisses and licks move lower down.

“I know for sure that I’m falling in love with you.” He’s serious when he says it, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper of her pants. Then, as he drags them down her legs with her underwear, he smiles at her. Sometimes he thinks that he only remembers how to smile when she’s around, almost as though she’s always able to swap his grimace with an actual sign of happiness.

She smiles back at him – at his words, at how caringly he removes her left boot, almost as though his only priority is not to revive the dull pain in her ankle. And then at how he covers her body once again, at how he looks down at her with that unreadable expression of his that just makes her fall for him a bit more every time.

It’s not love – she doesn’t want to call it love, but it sure does make her feel all warm inside as it tugs at the corners of her mouth even now, with her fingertips lightly tracing the lines of his face. Forehead, cheekbones, jaws, and then his lips, and he smirks when she outlines them.

When she pushes him onto his back and she moves over him, straddles his thighs, it’s sudden and unexpected, but surely not unwelcome, and he lets her do. His hands move up her thighs and hold onto her hips, and her bare body above him somehow makes his heart swell with pride. A thought crosses his mind, but it lasts only for a fraction of second before she leans down and pecks his lips once, and then once more – yeah, he could do this all day every day, even in America, if it means staying by her side.

Her lips trail down the column of his throat, then, before moving to the crook of his neck. She kisses and suckles as she grinds down against him, and he doesn’t care if he’ll have marks tomorrow – he won’t, because they’re both careful, but one day he’s sure he will – and she will as well.

She says something then, something he doesn’t catch, before she takes his hands in hers and moves further down his body, leaves kisses all over his chest and belly. For a moment, they both giggle, and she looks up at him with those eyes of hers that just, make him forget about the war and the Basterds and anything in-between.

She’s quick at unbuttoning his pants, but not so much at taking them off his body. She takes her time, and the lower she pulls them, the more kisses she leaves on his navel and then thighs. It’s funny and sexy at the same time, and when he’s fully naked and she’s kneeling between his legs again, that’s truly all he craves for at the moment.

“Come here,” he says, but she shakes her head, a smirk tugging at her lips, and bends down towards him.

He’s hard in her hands and when her lips press a kiss to the underside of his dick, he groans in the back of his throat. The muscles in his thighs tense when she takes him in her mouth, and his exhale is shaky as he does his best not to move his hands over her head.

It’s slow and slippery as she focuses on the head of his dick – suckles and kisses and licks, before taking him deeper every now and then, her hand slowly working the rest of his erection. Hugo Stiglitz is rarely ever vocal in the bedroom, but when someone – when she – is going down on him…

“Fuck.” Quick and breathy, almost like a half-formed word, that ‘fuck’ leaves his lips when she moans around him.

His breath almost hitches in his throat when she pulls up and smiles at him while repositioning to straddle his thighs again. He’s still in her hand and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring himself to look away from that sight. It lasts less than he thinks it does, though, because before he has the time to move his hands over her hips again, she’s sinking down on him.

She’s warm, and wet, and when she rests her left hand on his chest to balance herself as she takes all of him into her, her hands are wet.

His hips thrust up at the mental picture of her fingering herself and as he does so, she almost loses her balance. They both giggle, but when he moves to sit up, she pushes him back down and grinds her hips against his.

“Stay down,” she whispers against his skin, lips brushing right next to his left nipple before she leaves a kiss there.

The rhythm she sets is slow and sensual, something neither of them is used to – or has been used to for a while, now. It’s a nice change compared to the usual, almost-too-quick routine that’s just hunger and desperate, desperate need. It’s good, and Hugo Stiglitz finds himself relaxing underneath her, for once, hands moving from her hips to her back when she presses herself down against him. His hips start thrusting up into her, and he does his utmost best to keep it just as slow, but the feel of her around him just drives him delirious.

Her lips latch onto his pulse point again and when she starts licking and sucking, he swears his temperature spikes up. His head leans back into the pillows, neck almost arching, and his thrusts get quicker and snappier the tighter he holds her against himself. Her breathing grows shorter and every time he thrusts up, he can hear as her moans get stuck in her throat.

It’s a while later that the door creaks open and Wicki slurs Stiglitz’s name in his drunken, post-celebratory state. Hugo hums in acknowledgment, but his eyes are closed and there’s still a smile on his lips.

“Hugo,” Y/N whispers against the side of his neck, still naked and still laying between his arms, one leg thrown over his hips as his own leg rests between hers.

He nods his head against hers, but she knows he’s already falling asleep. They went at it again as soon as he flipped their positions over, and she should have known better than to agree on spending the night.

She whispers his name again when Wicki starts fumbling over the words of a song she doesn’t recognize, too distorted by his drunkenness. “Please, Hugo, you know he can’t hold his liquor!”

“Y/N!” Wicki almost yells her name when he finally switches on the light and finds her in his friend’s bed. “‘S good to see you again.”

She’s quick at turning back around, pulling the blanket over herself to cover her body from the other man’s eyes. “Stiglitz, come on! You need to wake up. I can’t do this without you.” But when she tilts her head up on the pillow and her eyes land on Hugo and that faint smile of his still plastered to his lips, she knows there’s no way in hell he’s waking up again soon.

Feel free to leave feedback xo I hope Stiglitz wasn’t too OOC but the truth is, idgaf, I just had to write about the man of my dreams haha

Links: prompts by peaskyblonders https://peaskyblonders.tumblr.com/post/622451655662845952/random-prompt-list // photo used for the banner https://www.pexels.com/it-it/foto/albero-freddo-ghiacciato-innevato-909016/

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ASK)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

#angelaiswriting #inglourious basterds #hugo stiglitz #hugo stiglitz imagine #hugo stiglitz fanfic #hugo stiglitz smut #hugo stiglitz x reader

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mldrgrl · 5 years ago

Text

Another Woman’s Treasure

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: Set somewhere in season 7, Mulder and Scully intend to spend their first weekend apart after taking the plunge.

“So, I’ll see you Monday,” Scully says, folding her blazer over her arm and adjusting her grip on her satchel.

“Yep,” Mulder answers, nodding slightly as he leans back in his chair.

They stare at each other. He taps the eraser-end of a pencil against his jaw. Going home for a weekend, alone, is different now. Though they spent seven years going their separate ways, three weeks of spending nights together has made saying goodbye feel awkward.

He wants to kiss her, even just on the cheek or the corner of her mouth, something friendly and casual, but he knows he won’t be able to stop at that, and so he keeps himself firmly planted in his seat. He can’t help it if his gaze drops to her lips. He also can’t help but notice that she does the same.

“Okay then,” Scully says.

“Have a nice weekend.”

She gives him one last glance over her shoulder as she walks out the door and he sighs quietly when he hears the elevator ding. Mechanically, he prepares to leave for the weekend. Though he told her he’d be staying to finish a report, he’d merely been avoiding walking out with her, knowing how weak-willed he was and he’d look for an excuse to keep them together for the night.

They’d been over this though and they agreed. They didn’t want to rush things. It couldn’t possibly be wise to go from friends and partners to all but cohabitating overnight. They needed to just slow down, take the weekend, find a new normal.

Without giving it much thought, Mulder ends up at his favorite bar a few blocks from the Hoover building. It’s never crowded there, it’s dark, it’s quiet, and the barmaid always looks put-out when she seems him coming. It’s perfect.

“What’ll it be this time, Spooky?” the barmaid says as he straddles a barstool.

“Got any Shiner Bock?”

“Not on tap, just the bottle.”

“That’s fine.” He takes off his suit jacket when she goes to get his beer and drapes it over the empty barstool beside him. While he waits, he rolls up his shirtsleeves, loosens his tie, and unbuttons his collar.

“Global conspiracies got you down today?” she asks, dropping a coaster onto the counter and placing an open beer in front of him.

“Not today.”

“Something’s troubling you though.”

“You really wanna know?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway.”

He chuckles and takes a sip of his beer. The only other patrons at the bar are a couple at the other end, engrossed in conversation and sipping wine.

“There’s this woman,” he says.

“Ah.”

“She’s…”

“Married? Seeing someone else? A lesbian?”

“No, nothing like that. She’s my partner. We’ve been together for seven years, actually.”

“You’ve never mentioned a partner before.”

“I haven’t?”

“Usually you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself.”

Mulder narrows his eyes a little at the barmaid and takes another sip of his beer. He can’t argue with her about that one, but he’s surprised Scully’s never come up before.

“So, what’s the problem?” she asks. “You ask her out, she turn you down?”

“Why do you assume it has something to do with relationship stuff?”

“Well, you didn’t say you had an issue with your co-worker, you said ‘there’s this woman,’ which implies ‘relationship stuff.’”

“You’re good.”

“I’ve been doing this a long time.”

Mulder nods, takes a long pull of his beer, and starts talking. Because his current state isn’t so easy to explain, seven years of backstory spills out of him, the ups and downs of his partnership with Scully, the mess he was when she was abducted, went through cancer, battled against the infertility, amongst other things. The barmaid, whom he realizes at a certain point that he’s never known her name, listens passively, stopping him occasionally to take orders or clear glasses, but she always comes back and lets him prattle on until he’s finally able to move out of the past into the present.

“...and I don’t really think things are moving too fast,” he says. “I went along with it because...because I can’t go rocking the boat so soon, you know? I mean, we disagree about enough, but this can’t be one of those things.”

“Sounds like the global conspiracies are easier to deal with,” she answers.

He smiles and scratches at the label on his beer bottle. She wipes a glass with a hand towel and then places it upside down on a shelf behind the bar. Throwing the towel over her shoulder, she runs a hand through her short, blonde hair and then leans closer to Mulder.

“You’ve been nursing this same beer for…” She glances at her watch. “Just over an hour.”

“You can charge me by the hour if you want. By the half-hour, even.”

“How about the quarter hour?” she counters, raising her brow at him. “What I’m saying is, you’ve been nursing this same beer for an hour, rambling on and on about how great this woman is, how perfect, how there never was nor ever will be another so magnificent as she-”

“Well, I never said perfect.”

“Do you interrupt her too?”

“All the time.”

“And yet, she puts up with you.”

“But, for how long?”

“Tell me something, Spooky, if you think so highly of her and her intelligence and her intuition, what makes you think she’d be with someone that doesn’t deserve her?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“Is it?”

Mulder sighs. A corner of the label on his beer peels off under his thumbnail and he rolls the tiny shred of it between his fingers. “I don’t know,” he says.

“Have you asked her?”

“Now why would I go and do that?” He snorts lightly and shakes his head. “You could fill a room with the things we don’t talk about.”

“Hm.” The barmaid shrugs and picks up another glass to wipe dry.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugs with one shoulder and circles the rim of the glass with her towel. Mulder frowns and finally finishes the beer he’s been brooding over since he first sat down at the bar. He slams the bottle down with more force than he intends to and slides it over in the direction of the barmaid.

“Another?” she asks.

“She isn’t perfect. You know, she has her faults, too. But, she’s brilliant and capable and beautiful and...and…”

“A whole host of other adjectives?”

“Yes. All of them.”

“Do you trust her?”

Mulder gapes at the woman, his mouth flopping open and shut as he fumbles for an answer. “Implicitly,” he finally says.

“So trust her.”

A tendril of fear swirls up from Mulder’s gut and steals his breath. He pulls at his already loosened collar. He does trust her. He trusts her more than he even trusts himself, there is doubt there. So, why then, is it so hard for him to believe that Scully wants this? Wants him.

“It’s not her, it’s me,” he says, weakly. The barmaid stares at him like that’s been obvious the entire time. He sighs and taps the counter with his index finger. “Another,” he says. She disappears for a few moments and returns with another bottle, popping the top off before she places it in front of him.

She leaves him alone with his thoughts, either because she’s grown tired of of his brooding or because she needs to help someone else. He’s not sure. He watches the condensation form on the neck of his bottle and then draws a tiny heart in it.

It’s not that Mulder considers himself a fatalist, but he’s known for some time, the same way he’s sure of the existence of extraterrestrial life, that the demise of any relationship he enters is a foregone conclusion. He doesn’t want that for him and Scully. It’s one of the reasons it took him seven years to kiss her. He’s been terrified, even before he finally made his move, that the beginning of something more would also spell the end of everything.

And now, he’s back in that rut of pessimism. The seed of doubt has been planted and taken root, and unless he can cut it off immediately, it won’t be long until it blossoms into something ugly and poisonous.

“Dammit,” he mutters. His suit jacket is draped over the empty barstool next to him and he pulls up the lapel to fish inside the pocket and pull out his cell phone. He speed dials number one and props his head on his fist, elbow on the counter, as it rings.

“Scully,” she answers.

“It’s me,” he says.

“I know.”

“Where are you?”

“Where am I? At home. You know that. Where are you?”

“Casey’s.”

“The bar?”

“Yep.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Do you think you could come down here and meet me?”

“I thought we were taking the weekend to-”

“I know,” he interrupts. “I know, I know, I know. I just…”

He can practically hear her thinking over the phone. The silence makes his stomach burn. He scrunches his face and closes his eyes, feeling stupid and embarassed.

“Nevermind,” he mumbles. “You’re right. I wanted to tell you something and…”

“You can’t tell me over the phone?”

“Not really.”

“It’ll take me half an hour or so. I’m not dressed.”

“Oh?”

“You know what I mean.”

“You’ll come?”

“I’ll come.” She hangs up. He slips his phone back into his pocket and swallows hard, suddenly feeling queasy.

For the next twenty minutes, every time he hears the door open, feels a rush of cool air against the back of his neck his heart speeds up and then his shoulders slump when it’s not her. He’s only half-way through his second beer when she finally walks in and he bites his bottom lip to hold his smile back when he sees her. She’s changed into a pair of light-colored jeans, a white t-shirt, and a navy blazer. She’s got flats on instead of heels and her face is make-up free, freckles on full display and cheeks pink from the spring air.

“Hey,” she says, coming up next to him and resting her hand lightly between his shoulder blades.

“Hey,” he responds, glancing at her only out of the corner of his eye. “You want something?”

“Not really.”

He swivels on the barstool and shifts his knees so that he can bring her closer, between his legs, and then he brings his arms around her waist and locks his fingers together at the small of her back. She braces her hands on his thighs and tips her head in question.

“What do you want to tell me?” she asks.

“Sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

“You brought me all this way and now we’re leaving?”

“Just outside.”

He waits a few moments and then lets her go. She takes a step back to allow him to stand and while he takes a last sip of beer, she curls a finger into the belt loop at his hip. Something flutters inside of him and he bites his bottom lip again. As he takes his wallet out of his pocket, he catches the eye of the barmaid who raises her brows at him and subtly makes an ‘okay’ hand gesture at him from the other end of the bar. He throws two twenties onto the counter and then picks up his jacket and folds it over his arm. When he offers his hand to Scully, she takes it, and as their fingers slide together, she moves in closer and wraps her free hand around the inside of his arm, just above his elbow.

There’s a park just around the corner that he intends to take her to. He walks slowly and she keeps pace beside him. If she’s impatient, she isn’t letting it show. It’s gotten foggy out and a little chilly, but it feels good and helps him to keep calm. The park is deserted and quiet. He stops under a streetlamp and turns her under the dim glow so he can see her face.

“I don’t want to ruin this,” he says. “And I’m afraid that I’m going to just by being myself.”

“Mulder…”

“No, listen. I will find a way to screw this up because when I’m this happy, I’m always looking for the other shoe to drop. It’s what I do. I...I sabotage every good thing in my life to try to get to the inevitable that much quicker.”

“And so, what? You want to end things now just because you-”

“No! No, I don’t want to end things at all, that’s what I’m trying to tell you.” He grabs her face with both hands and has to step even closer to her so his jacket doesn’t slip off his arm.

“This is it for me. You’re it. I don’t want you to let me make the same mistakes I’ve made in the past.”

“What mistakes?”

“I...I’m needy and obsessive and single-minded and...and I can be too intense sometimes, and…”

“Mulder.” She reaches up to hold his wrists, rubbing her thumbs back and forth across his palms. “That’s just who you are. I know you.”

“But…”

“Do you think I’ve never considered what being with you might be like? WIth your drive and your passion and sometimes narrow focus?”

“You have?”

“I’m sure you thought about my shortcomings as well.”

“What shortcomings?”

She raises her brows up at him and he chuckles and then nods slightly. Her flaws never really felt like flaws to him though, just things that made her Scully. He’s loved her because of them and he’s loved her in spite of them for years.

“I love you,” he says.

Her eyes grow wide and she opens her mouth, but hesitates. He shakes his head at her and rubs the apples of her cheeks.

“I just needed to say it,” he says. “And...I do need to hear it from you someday, but...not until you want to say it.”

“I do want to. It’s just not an easy thing for me to…”

“I know.”

She squeezes his wrists and presses her lips together into a thin line. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and blinks up at him like she’s exasperated in some way.

“Mulder, if...if you want me to hold you accountable for what you think might hurt us, I need you to do the same with me.”

“So, if you’re upset about something and I ask if you’re okay, and you say you’re fine, I should call you out on it?”

She nods and swallows.

“And if I ask you, straight out, how do you feel about me, and you say nothing, I shouldn’t let you off the hook so easily?”

“No.”

“How do you feel about me, Scully? How do you feel about us?”

“I…”

“Tell me,” he whispers. “Just say it.”

“I thought...I thought I’d been in love before, but now I know it...I’ve never felt the way I feel about you with anyone else.”

“Me either.”

“Which makes it all the more terrifying because…”

“You don’t want to lose this.”

She shakes her head. He nods. His attention is drawn to her mouth where her tongue darts out to nervously swipe at the curve of her upper lip. He wants to kiss her, badly, but so far their relationship has progressed within the privacy of their respective homes. She looks up at him though and he knows by the steady calmness of her gaze that it doesn’t matter to her right now that they’re under the spotlight of a streetlight. They could be at home or this park or the bullpen of the Hoover Building, she wants to be kissed as much as he wants to kiss her.

“Why are you so short?” he whispers at her.

“Why are you so tall?” she whispers back.

He bends towards her and she lifts up onto her toes. He can feel her grinning against his mouth and for a few moments, they don’t so much kiss as they just meld their matching smiles together. And suddenly, the good humor dissolves into a hungry ache and pulls a whimper from her and a groan from him. She reaches up to wrap her arms around his neck and he wraps his arms around her back to pull her tight against him. He thinks about his jacket, briefly, held up by the press of their bodies, when his cell phone digs into his hip.

Scully pulls away first, breathless and flush. Her tiptoes are barely scraping the sidewalk before Mulder loosens his hold and lets her slide back down to her feet. She catches his jacket before it slips to the ground and then they just stand together quietly, staring at each other.

“I don’t think we’re moving too fast,” he finally says.

“I...don’t really think that either.”

“Come home with me.”

“When I left work today I was hoping you’d ask. I was surprised you didn’t.”

“You have no idea the sheer amount of willpower it took not to.”

“Are you okay to drive?”

“I had a beer and a half at the bar.”

“Still.”

“My car’s still in the parking garage though.”

“So, I’ll drive.”

“We’d have to drive in together on Monday morning, then.”

She shrugs. He slips his jacket on.

“People might talk,” he says.

“More than they already do?”

“Are you okay with that?”

“If I wasn’t…”

She doesn’t finish, but she doesn’t have to.

The End

#i wrote this #msr #xf fanfic #a little fight the future callback #new relationship

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zephyrofalltrades · 4 years ago

Text

Day 3: Graveyard

CW: Horror (not graphic)

The cottage was sweet and cozy. It was just a tad out of the way, but was only twenty minutes from the nearest town center. He had always loved the place and couldn’t believe his luck when he found out his grandparents have given it to him in their will. He had mourned their sudden death but wasn’t able to come back to the cottage for months before his graduation. Crowley, his best friend and roommate during his time in uni, had offered to drive him to visit it that summer before they started getting serious about finding jobs.

Crowley went straight to the garden where the flowers were in riotous bloom despite the lack of maintenance for months. “Your grandparents sure knew their stuff,” he muttered, giving the rest of the space a critical glance. His plants were the most verdant in their side of the campus lodgings and Aziraphale beamed, knowing how prestigious the praise was.

“The wildflowers are as beautiful as these,” Aziraphale said proudly. “My grandfather and I found a small clearing filled with lavender somewhere over there.” He pointed somewhere to the north, then ticked off a few more similar anecdotes concerning the other paths and naming the flora and fauna they’ve encountered there.

“And there?” Crowley asked, cocking his head to an overgrown path at the farthest corner of the property.

“I was always told to stay away from there,” the blonde muttered. “Something about missing persons and demonic rituals.”

“Now that sounds interesting!” Crowley perked up. “Shall we take a peek at it together?”

“I don’t know…” the blonde worried his fingers. He didn’t like to disobey, even though there was no one to tell him off, but he also didn’t want to wipe away Crowley’s hopeful look. “Alright, but just a peek.”

The path ran straight on. It boulders of varying sizes lining each side like teeth. The rock faces were covered in moss, thick and soft to the touch.

“No worries of getting lost, then,” Crowley grinned.

Aziraphale shivered. He felt a horrible sense of foreboding. “I think we should go back.”

“Oh, come on. It looks spooky and you know I like spooky. Please?” Crowley slid his hand into his and squeezed. The blonde blushed. “I’ll make sure to hold your hand all the while and keep you safe.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I’m not a child,” he protested but he didn’t break their contact.

The fog grew thicker as they walked in, what little sunlight they had barely made it through the thick foliage. Crowley lifted his ever present sunglasses from his face to squint at their surroundings. As they walked, the moss on the stones grew thinner.

“Hey, some of these have scratches,” he said, maneuvering them closer.

“Those aren’t just scratches, those are names, and what looks to be… numbers?” the blonde kneeled to see better.

“Heh, d’you know any of them?” Crowley’s brows furrowed, feeling cold all of the sudden but shaking it off quickly.

“I’m afraid not.” Aziraphale scanned the writings before them, but even scratching the lichen didn’t help with his translation. With a shrug, they resumed their walk. That is, until they reached what looked to be the end of the path.

“Oh! Those are my grandparents’ names,” the blonde cried, shuffling closer to the side. His eyes grew wide as he inspected the crude yet clearer lines. His stomach dropped as his eyes fell on the numbers below. A date. The numbers spelled out a date - the day his grandparents died.

He opened his mouth to warn Crowley but he found the red-head already tugging him away. He followed his crazed stares to the next pair of stones. It had their names etched on them. With the current day’s date below.

“Crowley, we need to go. We need to go!” he tried dragging the frozen red-head away but found his own legs rooted to the spot, in a very literal sense. Roots had sprung from the path and had curled themselves around their ankles.

The ones around Crowley’s gave an almighty tug, dislodging dirt and stones around them. His hand slipped from the blonde’s as the tendrils pulled him towards the white stones. “Aziraphale!” he screamed, nails raking the ground. The blonde tried to reach for him, but his restraints held firm. He watched in horror as the stone’s base opened and swallowed the still shrieking red-head.

Then silence.

“Bring him back!” he yelled, trying to scratch at his bindings. He felt the hairs at the back of his prickle as he heard a hacking cough reverberate around the space. It sounded unearthly and demonic. It didn’t stop and Aziraphale quickly realized it was laughter.

He barely had time for a breath to fuel his screeches before he, too, was thrown to the ground and yanked closer to his grave. He had but a second to glance at his name before the darkness claimed him.

#racket's 13 days of halloween #alternate ending: it was all a dream #sorry for killing them off #but i'm here for the horror train #toot toot #good omens #good omens ficlet #human au #because death scares us more

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bubmyg · 5 years ago

Text

headshots - myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: vampire!yoongi, fluff, blood mention, act of feeding but it’s not. in any way at all violent lmao, non-chronological with my other vampire!yoongi drabbles

word count: 1,920

summary: you need to update your headshots or yoongi volunteers because he doesn’t show up in photographs so his fingers getting in the way of the lens shouldn’t be an issue. also based from this request (sorry it took me literally forever happy spooky month afjslkfd):

Yoongi murmured your name quietly, out of focus from where two delicate hands were stuttered in fiddling with various settings on the camera in his grasp. Your rambles faltered but didn’t stop, forcing him to glance up at you now, smile quirking when you tried to look away from him to the camera, hands cupping around his to correct whatever he’d changed before.

He didn’t budge, caramel grinning at you under long eyelashes and shower waved fringe until you finally silenced with your tongue between your teeth.

“My love, I don’t mean to interrupt you…” Yoongi rocked closer, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before nosing his way to your ear, “...but I know how to use a camera.”

You nodded, teeth catching the inside of your cheek now and you relaxed when he touched your hip, palm rubbing gentle circles into the place where your silk top quietly began to pull outward from where it was sanctioned by a belt.

“Sorry…”

He hummed in acknowledgement, thumbing at your hip in one final, tender movement, before reaching for your hand, threading your fingers together. Lowly he spoke with a soft tug on your arm, “Come.”

“That’s the school’s camera, by the way,” You ranted after a handful of silent breaths in following him down the hall, “We have to be careful with it.”

You stumbled when he led you two doorways off from the bedroom, an elegant wooden arch without an actual door that opened into what modernly would be a living room. Instead, Yoongi had filled it with some of his most prized possessions, collectors items ranging from centuries old oil paintings to the tiny porcelain pig hidden underneath a rickety end table. The largest and perhaps most cherished was the piano, an antique version of the one he kept in his basement study, one that could be played but could not be as easily replaced. It sat cornered by two paisley print couches tucked on top of maroon rugs, cherry wood floors slipping underneath your socks as you anchored down on Yoongi’s hand.

Upon closer inspection, you found that he’d rearranged, angling the couches at a further distance from each other, adding a display of plastic fall flowers to the top of the piano, drawing back the two layers of grey blackout curtains to reveal the soft beige that rested on the outside, ones that still worked to absorb the last of the sun’s rays as they disappeared in pastels on the canvas of the horizon. The dimmers had been carefully adjusted, a few lamps drawn closer to the central part of the room by the means of scuffed extension cords.

Balanced between the artificial leaves of the piano arrangement was another camera, barely peeking out from the top of an unzipped bag, one tagged with your university’s credentials.

“No, that’s the school’s camera,” Yoongi said finally, gesturing for the object in question. He wiggled the one in his grasp, distorted imagery of the room around you melding on the display screen, as he clarified, “This is my camera.”

You frowned at him, connected by your intertwined hands that he bounced gently against his thigh. “I checked that one out from the school for a reason. We don’t have to use yours…”

He delved into a detailed explanation of lens’, color balance settings, and essentially all the things his camera had the one provided for you did not. Yoongi punctuated his rambles with a pointed, “Aren’t I the photographer here? This is an artistic decision made on behalf of your brilliant photographer in the interest of the most exquisite subject,” One dark eyebrow curled upward into his fringe as he lifted your knuckles to press a gentle kiss to, “That’s you, angel.”

The excess heat from the lights surrounding you began to prick into your hairline and your voice borderlined on a whine, “Can we just take these headshots, please? I’m hungry…”

“Of course,” Yoongi dropped your hand, moving fluidly toward the piano to draw back the bench. Hip against the closed lid of the instrument, he jostled the camera to shove up the sleeves of the hoodie dangling off his stature, revealing glittering silver bands on gaunt knuckles and the delicate birthstone bracelet that dipped into the rivet of his wrist bone. One side of his lips quirked knowingly at your mouth dry stare, catching your attention with a simple command.

“Sit.”

Rigid, you complied, perched on the edge of the black upholstery. A second of fiddling with various parts of your person, hair, top, smudging a thumb down the side of your mouth and you squinted up at Yoongi still stationed above you with the camera in wait. He offered a gentle smile, one that caused you to reciprocate the same gesture but it wasn’t nearly as relaxed. More heat crept up the back of your neck and you dropped your gaze once more, mumbling an apology alone with—

“—could we move some of the lights? It’s a little hard to keep my eyes open and—”

You didn’t recognize the soft squeal that left Yoongi’s lips as he dropped to a crouch in front of you, elbows digging into the tops of your thighs as he pulled a ridiculous facial expression behind the retracting lens. Your giggle came from disbelief but slowly turned into pure amusement, one he documented with a quick succession of shutter captures before he pulled the camera away to beam at you.

Ring clad fingers danced to your thigh, gentle in gliding up, back down, a handful of heartbeats before he conceded, “Relax.”

“Sorry,” You uncrossed your legs, a movement Yoongi wasn’t unaware of, and you began to ramble when his hand drifted higher, “Did you know the current headshot on all my profiles is from high school? I’m just...not a good picture subject. I don’t photographer well.”

Yoongi hummed, following the movement of his hand with blackening eyes, “I don’t photograph at all.”

You were gentle in pressing your palm into his shoulder, his mischievous irises flicking to you as the touch and your scolding noise, he cocked his chin.

“What?” Crooked fingers trailed down your thigh, catching the underside of your knee to drag you closer to the edge of the bench. His teeth broke through into his smile when you gasped then glared at him, digging your nails into his shoulder now as he shrugged, “Vampire stuff. We don’t show up in pictures.”

“Maybe not in cameras made fifty years ago,” You grumbled, well aware of his scrunched nose taking up the majority of your phone wallpaper.

He chuckled, a low sound that rumbled in your ear as he fit himself closer to you, dropping the camera to the floor next to him in the process. Two hands curled up your thighs this time, parting them enough to fit himself between. Expansive palms gripped your waist, lips brushing over yours to say, “You’re still not very relaxed.”

“I wonder why,” You grit your teeth, nails on his shoulder trading to card into the soft black tendrils at his nape.

Yoongi’s lips trailed down your jaw, not lingering in one press for too long before they parted, brushing down the column of your throat to rest on your pulse. It spiked considerably and he pressed his nose against your skin, gripping your waist a fraction tighter.

“Artistic decision by the photographer?” You squeaked.

“On behalf of the best interest of the subject, yes,” He muffled. You felt his lips spread against your skin, fangs brushing over the tender skin a few times without making a move forward. “It’s not nice of you to lie, by the way.”

“—about?”

“You do photograph well. You’re beautiful.”

The slightest bit of tension curled out of your stature, melting against him as your heart fluttered in your chest for a different reason than the pointed pearls daring the break your skin. “Thank you, Yoongi.”

“May I show you how beautiful you are?” Yoongi’s canines applied a bit more pressure this time before disappearing altogether, nosing back up the path his lips had made to meet your gaze. His eyes shifted somewhere between an entrancing maroon and overly rich auburn, “I’ll only take a little. Nothing compared to other times.”

Your voice was small but you meant your words, hand sliding from silk tresses to cup his cheek, “Of course.”

Yoongi turned, kissing your palm before grasping your wrist, placing your hand on his shoulder. “Show me, angel,” He encouraged without explanation. You squeezed his shoulder three times, a nonverbal this doesn’t feel right, please stop. His soft smile disappeared as he ducked to peck your cheek again, praising at a whisper good, that’s perfect.

White noise became more apparent in the build up, the soft buzz of the audience of lamps, Yoongi’s denim clad knees as they shuffled around on the rug for a more comfortable position, the rapid thrum of your heart in your ears. Unadulterated trust had you presenting your neck, head tilted to give him better access as he sprinkled kisses in a similar path as before, taking extra time to pepper the spot in soft ministrations.

“I won’t hurt you,” He reminded, fumbling around to find your free hand, reminiscent of every time he’d fed from you. A nonverbal safe word, a gentle hand hold, a promise that reinforced why you trusted him so much (sometimes spoken more for the benefit of the dormant creature that resided somewhere deep within him).

“I know,” You answered like clockwork, squeezing his hand. A shuddering laugh, one that stuttered on your tease, “Now get on with it, we have to get these headshots done tonight.”

Yoongi laughed, “Ready?”

When you nodded, his kissed affections became a countdown, one, two, three pecks and the tiniest of hesitations before his fangs pierced your skin.

He was there long enough to coat his tongue in the sweet taste of what your heart propelled toward him, quick in healing the miniscule wounds before drawing back. He brought you with him in an embrace that ended on the floor, praises punctuated with chaste kisses to every place Yoongi could reach. Those very affections tangled in your eyelids when you lifted your head to squint at him, a misjudge that had him apologizing and you giggling as you cupped his jaw to stop him.

“Was that enough? If you need more, I’m okay…” You spoke to the gentle glow that followed the act, filling your veins in the same adoring sun that emitted out of your features pointed at him.

“I told you I was only going to take a little and that’s what I did. I’m okay, too,” Yoongi’s lips pulled into a toothless smile, one that pressed into his cheeks on either side of his mouth, “Are you more relaxed now?”

You swayed in his arms, enough to press your cheek into his shoulder, fatigue entirely more prominent on your eyelids now, “Mhm...maybe more so after a nice nap—”

“No napping yet,” Yoongi jostled you in his embrace, prodding at your cheek with the straight of his index finger, “I need to get some food in you. And, we need to take a few more potential shots.”

You cracked one eye open to his protests, “Hey, photographer?”

He immediately slumped at the way you addressed him, sighing, “Yes, gracious model?”

You closed your eye again, snuggling into Yoongi’s chest.

“It’d be in the best interest of the subject to let them nap.”

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #yoongi imagines #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #fic: vampire yoongi

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mythicallore · 5 years ago

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Bizarre Encounters with Pale Humanoids

Of all of the unsettling denizens of the paranormal that could pop out of the darkness, one of the odder has to be the pale face of a humanoid creature beyond description, eluding all attempts to categorize it. These gaunt, hunched over specters seem to haunt the fringe of reports of the mysterious and supernatural. Yet there are countless such reports coming from people from all walks of life and from all over. Here is a selection of various reports of spectral, deathly pale beings that are humanoid to some extent, but most certainly not human, circling out past the boundaries of the truly odd.

One witness brings us the story of an anonymous Reddit poster who says he had a very spooky encounter in 2006 in rural Arkansas, in the United States. He claims that this happened when he was only 12 years old, and that he had lived in a modest house nestled on around an acre of land out in the boondocks, surrounded by dim woods and its only tendril to the outside world an unpaved dirt road meandering off through the trees. Making the whole scene even spookier is the alleged fact that there was a big old abandoned slaughterhouse somewhere back in the wooded area, as well as the remnants of some burned down house owned by anonymous parties long since gone. Whether this had anything to do with what was to come or not, the witness describes the whole area as rather “mystical and special,” as well as “odd in general,” and that his encounter would happen one evening when he went out to lie down on the outside trampoline after an argument with his parents. It was just him and that big sky with a full moon framed within it, and he says of what happened next:

So I’m laying on the trampoline, and other than the moon there isn’t any light aside from the porch light which is a ways behind me. All of the sudden I vaguely see something move. Its coming from the lot across from the dirt road, and its coming towards me. We had a Boston terrier at the time and at first I figured it was him. But as it got closer I knew that’s not what it was.

It was sickly pale. It walked on all fours with its hands but seemed to be able to walk upright. Its kind of galloping towards me on all fours and its a little bit aways at this point but getting closer. The light bounced off of its skin and it almost seemed to look wet. Its gait and color is pretty clear to me but I don’t remember anything distinct about its face except that it just seems to be whitewashed to me. It’s happening so fast and now it is right near me still running and then I can’t see it. It’s under the trampoline. And then I feel it, I feel it PUSH up on the trampoline. I didn’t even bother to look back as I ran to the house. I don’t remember my thought process at all past that point but my mom has told me that I came in the house hollering and absolutely terrified.

I’ve thought about this consistently over the years and as I’ve gotten older have seen stories of similar creatures. I used to describe it as looking like Gollum from the LOTR. I think of the creature kind of fondly in a way. It would never have occurred to me at the time but it almost had a playful vibe to it, and it makes me sad to think that it’s just some lonely but semi-intelligent creature. Maybe a grotesque experiment or some off-kilter evolutionary line. I don’t think that’s impossible. I guess I like to let my imagination run wild with it though. I will always be curious about this and the place in general.

It is hard to know how much stock to put into Reddit reports, but there sure are a lot along the same lines. Another poster at Reddit /r/paranormal gives his own freaky encounter, for which he even supplies photographic evidence. This supposedly happened in 2012, at an undisclosed location at a close-knit friendly barn community in a rural area of the United States, surrounded by dim woods laced with small, scenic trails. The witness says that his two horses were kept on the property, which was near his home and which he would visit ever day to care for and ride around through the peaceful scenery. One evening he had a startling experience as he rode one of the horses, of which he would say:

One evening, around 5pm, I was sitting on her, letting her stand when she started snorting and backing up. I looked up and saw this white/grey creature crawling out of the woods towards us. It had a very small round head, it’s eyes were just pits. It had a very small mouth, not much detail there. It’s arms were very long and thin, fingers also like that. Its rib cage was very pronounced and defined, and it’s legs were long and lanky.

Its movements were very jerky, not smooth and fluid. It slowly jerked out to us, when my horse turned and bolted out of the arena. She’s a dead broke, calm, well manners horse who never spooked before this. Stubborn old mare, but not spooky. She would not go back into the arena that night. I walked her around the barn yard, staying near the main barn, put her up, and ran out to peek into the arena, to find nothing except some “foot prints” where I saw the thing.

This would not be the end of the sightings of this odd creature, as the witness says it would lurk around the dark periphery of the property all through that summer, often peeking around the gate that led out into the woods. On one occasion he saw it running along the other side of the fence, keeping up with him and the horse. It was eerie to be sure, and the witness continues:

I continued seeing it, mainly in the woods, but it was always around. Summer 2013, the barn shut down when the owner died. We moved the horses to a friends place for the time being, and I didn’t see it there. Late summer/fall 2013, I found a new barn. Woods directly behind the barn and arena. This place had lights and was much newer.

About a month later, when I was getting ready to leave I heard something in the woods, I looked down the barn aisle into the woods and saw the creature running down the road into the woods. I saw it much less frequently for a while, until later in fall 2014 I began seeing it in the back pastures woods, it darted in and out of the tree line.

I saw a second one sitting in a neighbors yard, it would sit in the same spot every day and watch me ride.

Started taking pictures, which are very poor and crappy, and sent them to a friend who claimed he and some others have seen it. Kept seeing it occasionally, but from a much greater distance than at the first barn. I went with this barn owner to another farm to get some stuff, when I saw a very very large version of this creature run out from the woods, right behind a tree I was 10 feet from, while I was alone by the trailer.

Last November, I house sat for the barn owners. I went out around 2am to fill water troughs and enjoy the full moon and cool night. I was sitting in the back pasture when 3 of the creatures began coming from the woods, one came up to the trees near the trough where I was, the other two were walking along the tree line. The horses were silently munching their hay, pretty far from where the creatures were. I messaged the guy from earlier and told him what was going on. Since that incident, I haven’t really seen them. Last summer, I did see one outside my house staring into the windows. A few weeks ago, one was outside my bedroom windows tapping and making a strange faint shrieking sound.

Unfortunately the pictures don’t really seem conclusive at all, and we are left to wonder just what was going on here, if anything at all. Another Reddit poster gave his own report of a strange occurrence at a rural country house when he was 15 years old. At the time he was apparently in his bedroom on a very dark night, and was about to close the blinds to the window when he caught a glimpse of a “pure white almost glowing man/thing” glaring at him from next to a nearby pine tree. He would describe what happened as follows:

It was crouched down kind of in a spider-man pose and I believe it had larger black eyes. Not like something you see from the greys but it was a feature that stood out to me. It was very muscular, I distinctly remember seeing well defined arm muscles, it seemed just very muscular in general. It wasn’t too thin it was just strong looking. I don’t know how tall it was because it was crouched down looking up at me. I don’t remember if it’s head appeared larger than an average humans head, but I remember it was very bald.

When I saw this creature I screamed for my mom, she came to the window and saw something that startled her too and ran downstairs to our back porch and yelled “who’s out there! Come out!” I remember standing behind my mother nervous with fear. We went back to my room and looked out the window and it was gone. I have this weird feeling that someday I’ll see it again. I’m not sure why, I just feel it.

A very similar report was posted on The National Cryptid Society, and was given by a witness in the Midwest United States. The report again concerns pale, humanoid things wandering about the dark outside of windows in the middle of nowhere, and the witness says:

When I was in 6th grade, I looked out the living room window and saw a white reflection. My mom grabbed a flashlight and looked out the window, she could see some white animal crawling around on the ground in the clearing by our house. It was approximately raccoon-sized, but white and apparently able to get 3′ up to the window. The next morning, before sunrise, I was letting my dog outside. He ran out the garage door and began barking and growling (completely out of character for him). I stepped around the door frame and saw an approximately 5′ tall pale being with two huge, glowing eyes and some form of round glowing item where a mouth or neck might be. My sixth grade self screamed, turned, and ran back inside, leaving my mother and dog out to fend for themselves.

By the time my mom figured out what happened and I calmed down enough to come back out, the thing was gone. To this day, I’m terrified of the woods surrounding their house at night. When I visit, I leave before sunset or have someone walk me to my car. It has been over 15 years. I would also like to add that I don’t believe in “aliens” or “ghosts” or anything, but I have no clue what these things were.

What are these things and what do they want? Was this a ghost, an alien, some sort of unidentified animal, or what? Our next account was provided to the site Phantoms and Monsters, and supposedly happened at Big Bear Lake, California, in 2017. The witness claims she had just checked into a Best Western motel in the area at just after midnight, and was going to her car to get her luggage when she had the fright of her life. According to the witness, it was very dark and was cold and snowy, with her just wanting to get her stuff and get in out of the cold. She says:

It had been snowing and was extremely dark, my car was facing a country road. When I hit the unlock button on my car, the parking and interior lights came on. This allowed me to see two eyes reflecting in the middle of the road, about 10-15 ft from me. At first, I thought it was a deer, I have lived in Colorado and I’m accustomed to seeing wildlife.

I instantly stopped and remained still as I didn’t want to scare off the what I thought was a deer. As my eyes glanced downwards, I noticed it wasn’t a deer, it looked like a white, hairless naked man on all fours. It was at least four feet in height, on all fours. Probably around 15 ft if it stood up. There was a brief moment as our eyes made contact. It then, as quickly as I have ever seen any animal, turned around, ran as fast as a cheetah away from me and then, straight up a tree. I was frozen in disbelief. I said out loud to myself, “you have to be flipping kidding me”. Just as I was going to convince myself that this couldn’t possibly be happening, it leapt from tree top to tree top and I could see it’s full outline as it did so.

The speed and strength it had is like nothing I’ve ever heard of before. The creature was definitely solid, it appeared as if it was coming toward me, possibly hunting me? I don’t know what stopped it. Was it the lights that went on? It had no visible genitalia. it had a very human like qualities. None of this makes sense to me, the speed, agility of the creature and there shouldn’t be anyway that the treetops should have been able to hold the weight of the creature. It appeared to be flashing like a TV going in and out of reception as it sprinted up the tree. It also didn’t appear to disrupt the foliage as it did so.

Besides hanging out in the shadows and woods of rural properties, similar pale humanoids have been encountered on roads as well, where the lane lines come flickering out of the gloom to go racing back into the night. In a report to the July 15, 2016 episode of Coast To Coast AM, a caller named “Nate” gave his experience while driving along a desolate road in rural Illinois. He says that he is a truck driver, a profession that has numerous brushes with the paranormal, and on this night he was heading east on I-80 through Illinois. He would tell Coast to Coast:

I had stayed the night, well, the afternoon in Des Moines to get some sleep and I got a fresh eight hours of sleep and I had just got on the road. It was about dusk and the sun was just about to set and I was driving and I seen a figure just ahead of me on I-80 and it was right on the side of the road. When I say right on the side of the road, I don’t mean in the grass. Its toes were right on the white line. I slowed down a little bit to kind of see what was going on there and maybe avoid it. When I got about fifty yards from it. I got down to about 50 miles per hour and I could see it clear. I had my brights on and everything. It was a man. Well, it looked like a man about maybe 5’9 or 5’10. Couldn’t have been more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. And when I got up to him he looked at me and George I kid you not, he had no eyes, no mouth, no nostrils. There was no orifice on his face. He was pale white. No hair. No features whatsoever. There was a… It looked like a skeleton with bleached white skin. He was just kind of standing there looking right at me. I slowed down and as soon as I seen his face, he looked up at me, boy, I flipped the hammer down from Illinois all the way to Chicago. I never looked back. My blood ran cold. My hair stood up. I was one of the most disturbing things I’ve ever seen in my life.

Another such account was reported on Reddit by a witness who says his frightening encounter happened on Christmas Night of 2007, at a lakeside community in rural upstate New York. The festivities had worn down and at around 8 PM the witness took off in his car to a friend’s house. The place was only about a 10-minute drive away and the night was clear, so there would have been no reason to suspect that anything would happen in such a quiet and peaceful place, but things would quickly take a turn into the weird. He would say of his harrowing encounter:

As I drove, I noticed what looked like someone walking up ahead on the opposite side of the road, coming in my direction. Mind you, I was still going about 20 mph the whole time, so it was probably less than a minute by the time the “walker” came into clear view. I got a quick scan of it from my windshield before my car and it were exactly parallel.

It was not a person. It stood on two long legs, with long arms hanging down from its shoulders. It was strong looking. Lean, muscular, but not beefy in stature. It looked thin at the same time. It stood at least 7 foot tall. It was light coloured: not sure whether it was white, tan, yellow or greyish. It didn’t appear to have fur but there was some texture to the skin- it wasn’t smooth. There appeared to be something coming down off its back. I don’t know what this was. All I can recall about it’s face is the small features it had but the mouth and jaw were notably large. And it had pointed things atop its head- 2 things going straight upward with something mingled between the two things. That’s what I got from a quick scan and from my observation of it as it neared my car and my car neared it.

As my car became parallel to it within a split second, I went from looking out my windshield to looking at it from my drivers side window. In that moment, it’s face quickly peered down at me and all I remember was the mouth opened wide. Out came a remarkable scream that I’ll never forget. Gives me the chills just thinking about it. It consisted of a high-pitched shrill/shriek, enveloped by a deep guttural growl. Both sounds happened simultaneously in that scream.

I kept driving all the while. This was all happening so fast that I didn’t even have a chance to be scared or shocked or anything. I continued driving and went past my friends house and drove home. Called him to tell him what happened and that I just needed to get back. I was probably running on adrenaline to get back home. Later on, I was in total shock after it sunk in. Had my drivers side window been opened fully, it would have touched me, or worse, taken me. I’m certain of it.

Another account from Phantoms and Monsters tells the story of a witness in Canada, who had at the time spent the evening laughing and talking with friends until the wee hours of the morning. At 4:45 AM he decided it was time to head home, and got into his truck to begin the 45 minute drive back to his place. In between his friend’s town and his own there was reportedly a pitch black forested area that took around 10 minutes to drive through, and after almost hitting a deer on his way in he decided to slow down and take his time getting through this tangle of trees. He would say of the series of bizarre events that would follow:

As I approached the exit of the forest there is a left curve in the road and an adjacent dirt road with a white wooden fence lining it going up a hill to what I would imagine would lead to someones property/home. As I was making the turn I seen something in my headlights (Brights) at the edge of the fence. It was a tall pale milky white creature with a bald head. It’s eyes reflected back. Clothes-less . It’s arms and legs just as white as its bald head. I seen it for a second or two as it made a move to dive behind the fence.

I braked and backed up slowly and pointed my lights at the fence looking for any kind of movement. I was parked on the highway which was abandoned at 5 am. My heart was racing and I didn’t know why. I must have sat there for a minute before I calmed down, didn’t see any movement and decided I better not go and investigate or maybe I’d become a missing person and continued my journey home. So the only description I have of this “thing” is tall,pale, bald, and human like features, but no noticeable hair or eyebrows.

Such entities leave us wondering just what any of these people could have possibly seen. Are these ghosts, aliens, demons, or just the products of addled, tired minds? There are numerous encounters that cover a wide spectrum of such pale, humanoid beings, and as I have said I have covered such reports before, so are these related and what could we be dealing with here? Considering the very unearthly undertones of such reports, one might be inclined to think that this must surely be aliens. After all, how could something so innately bizarre as these pale, crouched monsters be anything of this world? One possible explanation for the pure outlandishness of these stories is that they are some sort of inter-dimensional entities or trickster spirits, that for whatever reasons find themselves here for unfathomable purposes and agendas. It was an idea championed by such esteemed paranormal researchers as Jacques Vallee and John Keel, and Keel himself would once say of such bizarre beings that seem to defy any conventional classification:

One basic fact should be obvious from the foregoing – these entities and things are not necessarily from some other planet. They are actually closely tied to the human race, are a part of our immediate environment in some unfathomable fashion, and to a very large extent are primarily concerned with misleading us, misinforming us, and playing games with us.

Is that what this is? Are there entities from beyond the fringe of the odd that are paying us a visit to taunt and manipulate us to inscrutable ends? How else can we explain these totally otherworldly reports and their crouched, pale denizens of our nightmares? How else can we possibly fit any of these accounts into our reality? Unless, of course, they are just pure fabrications? It is difficult to say what the case may be, as these are eyewitness accounts beyond the scope of out ability to verify or corroborate, but if they are in any sense real, then they leave a lot to question, and flitter about out in the domain of the truly strange.

#humanoid #paranormal #supernatural #cryptid

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terrible-tentacle-theatre · 7 years ago

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The Bestiary Revamped: Vampire Squid (HALLOWEEN SPECIAL)

Disclaimer: While this article is founded in scientific fact, it contains hyberbole and conscious exaggerations for the sake of comedy. Do not take my ramblings at face value. You can find the sources at the end of the article and tools for scientific fact-checking under the “Learn more” link on my blog.

The old article can be read here.

(I intended to post this yesterday but stuff came up. Anyway.)

Ahem.

Cue the spooky music.

*threatening organ music plays at unbearable volumes*

That’s right, dear readers, the Spooky Gourd Day has finally, finally come, and with it the nigh-endless Halloween shitposting that permeates this website every October like the smell of pumpkin pie did my house just a few hours ago, immediately before I ate most of it. (I still have like half of it left, but it’s cold now so it doesn’t have that mouthwatering smell unless I reheat it. And I was too busy watching old Betty Boop Halloween cartoons to reheat it. Anyway, I’m getting off track.)

Frankly, the obsession of internet culture with this innocuous holiday has always fascinated me. What it is about a day when you get to dress up all funky-like, go from house to house acting like an idiot, horf down all the candy you can get away with and watch scary movies all night that is so attractive to them youngsters? I simply cannot wrap my head around it.

However, it is a day of great significance to this blog, since this is the day when we celebrate the utter freakiest of the freakiest that can be pulled up from the stygian waves of the planet’s oceans. This is the third Halloween of the Terrible Tentacle Theatre, and for this notable occasion, I have decided to give one of my earliest poster children a much-needed revisit.

Back in the early days of the blog, when it was still called Hectocotylus and my content mainly consisted of spicing up Wikipedia and Cracked articles with swearing for the sick enjoyment of some 30 followers, the article in question was my first big hit among the people of the Digital Blue Hills of Hell. In the days when most of my articles didn’t go above 20 notes, this beast gathered up 300 notes by using its nebulous tendrils to reach into the deepest corners of the ole ‘web. Not only was this creature my first big hit in my career as a marine biology blogger with tone moderation issues, it would also fit in great as the main monster in a theoretical Universal Horror/Syfy teamup, which would be the Halloweeniest shit ever.

Ladies, gentlemen and other fellows, the vampire squid.

Before you even see this thing in full detail you can already gather that I didn’t choose it for this year’s Halloween special for nothing. Everything from the ghoulish dark red color scheme to the bat-like webbing between eldritch tentacles screams “cheesy Hammer Horror movies written by good ol’ Howard Philips”. And it will become even more evident when you see it in its full, glowy, betentacled glory.

This is how it looks like when you stare down a squishy, floppy incarnation of doom. This thing looked so freaky that the dude who discovered it, a certain German biologist called Karl Chun, decided to name it Vampyroteuthis infernalis. That’s Latin for “vampire squid from Hell”. Yep, that’s right. Remember the part where science is hard fact unaffected by emotion? Well you can throw that right out the window, because this fucker freaked its discoverer out so hard that he named it the vampire squid from Hell.

“The shit I’ve seen, kiddo. You wouldn’t believe.”

Even descriptions of this guy sound like they escaped straight from a 19th century gothic horror novel. For example, in 1925 the Arcturus expedition caught one near the Galapagos Islands and described it as “a very small but very terrible octopus, black as night, with ivory white jaws and blood-red eyes.” Even in the years of the Roaring Twenties, merely seeing the vampire squid was enough to bring out anyone’s inner Poe or Bram Stoker, apparently, which isn’t very surprising considering that it looks like Béla Lugosi had an illicit affair with one of the Star-Spawn of Cthulhu.

You’re welcome for that mental image.

While calling it a vampire is more than appropriate, the names “squid” or “octopus” are much less fitting. While intially appearing to be something of an octopus, it’s actually not one of them; and it isn’t a squid either, which left the confused scientists to place it within its own little private taxon, the order Vampyromorphida. If you know a little bit of Latin, that means “vampire-shaped”, which would imply that this is the general shape for vampires. So next time you read Twilight, imagine Edward as a vampire squid flopping around on the ground the entire time and I guarantee you’ll have a blast reading through several hundred pages of sweaty bloodsucker romance.

Unlike Edward however, the vampire squid doesn’t actually feed on blood. Dashing from shadow to shadow in the cover of a snappy opera cape and hunting for innocent young maidens in the night is the kind of energy expenditure that this malevolent mollusk cannot afford. Mainly because it lives (you guessed it) in the darkest, deepest excesses of the oceans, where the eternal darkness creates an all-year-round Halloween mood. In these waters, even beginners have a hard time finding the tiniest scraps of food, and have to resort to drastic measures to get by. But the vampire squid looks at those beginners and goes “yall are scrubs git gud lmao”. Compared to the vampire squid’s lifestyle, virtually any other denizen of the deep sea lives right in the middle of a goddamn cornucopia.

See, the vampire squid doesn’t just live in the deep ocean. It specifically prefers places called Oxygen Minimum Zones (OMZ), which sounds more like the hardest Sonic level ever than any serious place which can support life. OMZs are vast sheet-like expanses of water in the deep sea which barely contain any breathable oxygen. Some of these zones can contain as little as 5% of the oxygen that saturates air, and barely anything survives here.

And guess what? The vampire squid lives here. Not only lives, but thrives.

This is the game the vampire squid plays, every day of its life. On hard difficulty.

Obviously, living in a dead wasteland of suffocating water has required the squid to adopt some nifty tools of survival. Do not do so would be like entering the final dungeon of a video game with early game gear.

First off is a pair of sensory filaments, which the vampire squid extends through the water much like a spider does its web. They are super long and flexible, and probably the source of so many dick jokes that the squid will choke a bitch if anyone tells one more.

“No, I’ve never heard that one ever. Ha ha ha. Real fuckin’ original.”

Next up is a pair of membranous wings, used by the squid to travel through the aether of space to “fly” through the water, it’s cape-like arm web billowing behind it. The vampire parallels are getting more and more accurate.

Interestingly this wing isn’t the same in adults and juveniles. At one point in their devlopment they start growing a second pair of fins which eventually fully substitutes the first pair, which then atrophies back into the flesh. Thus if you’re lucky enough to catch a vampire squid, it’s not impossible that it will have four fins. The biologists who first found these four-finned squid nearly went insane trying to describe it (and several other developmental stages) as separate species. It was such a mess it took years to sort out, and nowadays the vampire squid is the sole surviving species of its order. He’s standing in the darkness. Alone.

WAKE ME UP INSIDE

The fins and the filaments aren’t just decorative elements the squid picked out at Hot Topic, either. Used in tandem, they’re a fearsomely effective netting tool and the way this crafty cephalopod earns its daily bread. You think spiders are cool with their webs? Nah, Spiders ain’t shit. They’re lazy idiots and their web does all the work for them. the vampire squid’s filaments is where it’s REALLY at.

See, the vampire squid’s main diet is thankfully not blood but something called “marine snow”. This is basically the shower of discarded tissue, shit and corpses that rains down upon the lower layers of the deep ocean from the upper layers all year round. Having this fall from the sky for “White Christmas” would probably be quite traumatizing.

DECK THE HALLS WITH BALLS OF FECES SHALALALALALALALALAAAAARGH

The vampire squid, however, has had its resolve steeled by years of isolation in the darkness of the deep ocean, and is willing to chug down anything to survive. Bear Grylls is a picky gourmet chef compared to this guy.

That said, it needs to eat something that’s actually of some nutritional worth. It could spend its life scarfing down every chunk of marine snow it comes across, but that would be a waste of muscle movements since most of it does exactly nil to fill up its stomach. That’s where the filaments/fins combo come in, turning the vampire squid into an angry little tripwire trap ready to snap at any moment.

Note the filament. That’s not a parasite, that’s legit a part of the animal. Nobody knows where it evolved from, it’s not a modified arm or tentacle and it’s a fucking enigma.

Mystery tentacles: the quintessential Terrible Tentacle Theatre experience.

Extending its filaments (one at a time) into the mucky waters around, it waits more still then I do when I go to the kitchen for a glass of water during the night and I hear a sudden noise. The filaments come with a plethora of sensitive nerve endings, ensuring that anything bigger than a flea’s asscheeks landing on them will elicit an immediate response from the squid. And if said asscheeks touch the filaments, responds the squid it does. Specifically, it exhibits a surprising burst of speed (considering it just drifts around all day and it is effectively the consistency of Jell-O), pulled entirely by its fins to perform an acrobatic fucking pirouette off the handle, whipping around in a loose loop and catching its own filament. Millions of dogs around the world enviously sigh in unison.

After this, the squid pulls off its prey from the filament using its arms, which generate a solid slime-like material. The collected chunks of edible whatnot are rolled into a ball of slime, and horfed down by the squid at once. You probably cannot tell but there’s a Michelin star underneath its mantle. “Slimeball à la Vampire Squid” is one gourmet-ass dish.

Molto bene!

Of course, all this fine dining makes the vampire squid itself tasty as all hell. You are what you eat, afterall. But in the deep sea, you do NOT want to be tasty, because everyone is hungry on top of being the most light-deficient gourmet motherfuckers on the planet. So naturally, our subject needs some sort of way to evade the raving food critics hunting him in the deep. And he has this way in the form of a very unlikely tool: bioluminescence.

“But Admin”, I hear you say, “didn’t you just get done telling us last week that glowing in the deep sea will attract everything around you?” That I did, young padawan, and it still stands. However, just like last week’s subject, the vampire squid uses its built-in glowsticks with a very express purpose and doesn’t just flash into the sunset willy-nilly. The glowy parts of this beast have very well-defined places and usages, exquisitely located and timed, just like a laugh track in a sitcom. Underneath its dark-red skin the vampire squid carries clusters of glowing photophores mainly on the tip of its arms as well as in two fake eye-spots on the top of its mantle, ready to flare up in a blue burst of light on demand. The fake eyes even come with their own built-in eyelids, opening and closing as Dracula Jr. sees fit.

Imagine you’re a predator and you see this glowing collection of random bullshit. Now figure out where to bite. Good fucking luck.

These lights are used with great care and consideration in order to troll the fuck out of anybody who is foolish enough to make an attempt on the vampire squid’s life. Upon attack, the squid whips its arms around with the lights on full luminosity, creating a confusing dance of light spots in the otherwise total darkness and messing up the predator’s perception. The false eyes only make things worse, finally creating the illusion that the vampire squid possesses unlimited godlike control over space and time, which may damn well be true.

Question: What way is this vampire squid going? Hint: It’s not facing toward you.

The appearance of the squid as a godlike psychic is surprisingly in line with the whole vampire angle, since Dracula has reknownedly had the ability to charm and hypnotize people. The effect is further accentuated by the squid’s eyes, proportionally the largest of any animal ever discovered. With a diameter a whopping one sixth of the animal’s whole body, this thing's oculars are like if you were walking around with eyes the size of your head. Each.

And for added effect, they glow and change color depending on which angle you’re looking at them from.

DISCO CTHULHU

And finally, if a spooky vampire-looking-ass dark red glowing octopus-squid-thing with hypnotic powers isn’t Halloweeny enough for you, the vampire squid has a final trick up its sleeve that catapults it right into the realm of body horror. This is suspected to be a defensive tactic but who the fuck knows, really. Deep sea creatures are enigmatic as shit, and they guard their secrets jealously.

Alright, I’ll quit beating around the bush and say it outright. Basically the final defensive measure of the vampire squid is turning itself inside out.

Yep.

Of all the stupid shit that Mother Nature could have come up with, she went and decided “alright, it just up and turns itself inside the fuck out. What are you gonna do about it?”

This behavior is known to science as “pineappling” or even more Halloweeny-ly “pumpkin posture” (no, seriously) and it involves the squid taking the webbing between its arms and turning it upside to shield its head and body from harm. Now folded comfortably into a spiky little footbal, the vampire squid knows itself free from harm. The webbings are thin enough for it to see through, but also don’t let its lights to shine around, so doing this effectively means the vampire squid switches into stealth mode. Plus it looks stylishly similar to Dracula popping the collar on his cape.

The vampire squid is every Monster Mash horror cliché come to life and smushed into a vaguely cephalopod shaped package for best user experience. When the stars are right and Cthulhu and his Star-Spawn emerge from the sunken city of R’lyeh to bring the world to ruin once more, these guys will be the first living things they encounter. And then they’ll fuck off back to their stupid city, mumbling things like “what the hell man, that’s plagiarism” and “that’s way too extra, even for us”. The apocalypse is postponed once again, thanks to the vampire squid’s vailant efforts of looking weird as fuck.

Happy Halloween, everybody! I was a day late due to the length of this article, but I hope you don’t mind. Until next Tuesday’s article, have a wonderful time with the aftermath of the day of cheesy horror and confectioneries.

Sources:

Encyclopedia of Life

Tree of Life Web Project

Animal Diversity Web

Ocean Biogeographic Information System (OBIS)

Ellis, Richard. “Introducing Vampyroteuthis infernalis, the vampire squid from Hell”. The Cephalopod Page. Dr. James B. Wood.

Seibel, Brad. “Vampyroteuthis infernalis, Deep-sea Vampire squid”. The Cephalopod Page. Dr. James B. Wood. Retrieved 3 July 2011.

Hoving, H. J. T.; Robison, B. H. (2012). “Vampire squid: Detritivores in the oxygen minimum zone”. Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences.

#bestiary #bestiary revamped #halloween #halloween special #cephalopod #deep sea creatures #bioluminescence #marine snow #vampire squid #spoopy #bela lugosi is spinning in his grave somewhere

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cookeybg · 4 months ago

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The Colony Possessed - Chapter 4

Title: The Colony Possessed

Main Characters: Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne

Narrators: Hal Jordan, Barry Allen, OC - Kam, John Constantine, will add others as chapters progress

Honorable Mentions: Wally West, Talia Al Ghul, Damian Al Ghul

No romantic relationships

Stuff to Know: Cryptid Batfamily, maybe a bit spooky, Hopefully a bit amusing, Gotham LOVES Batman and she always will, it's concerning

[The Colony Possessed Table of Contents]

Chapter 4 - It feeds off you, mate

“I know you’re there.” John Constantine called out to the dark, hands buried in the pockets of his beige trench-coat, legs spread shoulder width apart, smoke rising from the lit cigarette he smoked. He knew that Bats would not appreciate his presence in his city, but anything out of the ordinary, anything remotely devilish or cursed was his business so, his old pal could suck it. The alley darkened to the point where he could only see a few feet in front of him. The shadows coalesced and bright green eyes shone, no pupil, no white, just pointy green like upside down half moons. The shadows giggled, they caressed his hair, a shiver ran down his spine. “Hello.” The voice echoed against the brick walls, female sounding, soft. The pair of eyes faded in and out in the dark. “No, no,” John shook a finger at it, “I need all of your attention.” John stomped his foot on the ground and an elaborate circle with sigils lit up, causing the shadows to hiss. All at once the shadows darkened and gathered in one spot on the ground in front of him. It was in the shape of a petite woman, long wavy black hair that moved like smoke draped her back, her body the color of coal and acid eyes green eyes glared at him. “What do you want, friend.” She hissed. “Friend, eh? What’s my new friend’s name?” She tilted her head and simply said, “Gotham.” John whistled in surprised, rocking his body back and forth on his heels, “A sentient city.” He knew it! From the day he met the Bat, something wasn’t right. If he ignored his broody countenance, his sharp words, and his gloomy disposition, he could feel another presence hanging off the Bat. It was subtle and vague, cleverly hidden.

He hadn’t been sure, thought that maybe it had been something else. He had even gone to the Watch Tower after he heard of the rumors of it possibly being haunted and found nothing. Bats though, exuded something supernatural, no matter if the grump claimed to not believe in the occult. Heck he had felt it in the man’s children, in his cave, but whenever he looked too closely the thing would disappear. Until recently. The presence had gotten stronger. The proof stood in front of him, it had taken a humanoid form, no longer just an essence. Mixed with something else, something vicious. “I know of your type. Calls herself Angela. Good for a fun time but brings me trouble. What do you want with Bats?” Gotham was no longer looking at John, instead she stared at her hands the shape of long pointy fingers shrinking into dull stubs, she wiggled them. “I’m his, my Bat.” She eventually responded. John watched her as she moved her legs, feet forming solidly, toes wiggling on the sodden cobbled stones. This was going to be troublesome. A city who thought it belonged to a human. Gotham touched her face, its shadowy tendrils taking shape into a proper jawline, lips, nose and forehead. Her hands trailed down her body and she jumped up and down, her breasts bouncing. John enjoyed the show. “You’re a city. You don’t belong to anyone.” Gotham flicked her wrists and a flowy black dress appeared to cover her body, she looked up at him, her almond eyes wide. “I’m his. Fixes me. Loves me.” John nodded as if that made sense. Gotham had an innocence to her despite it existing for hundreds of years. Honestly, he had expected her to be twisted and blood thirsty with the way Gothamites lived here. With all the corruption, death and the crazies. He was surprised that it seemed it hadn’t affected her. “Let me go?” she said tilting her head. John hummed. “Not yet, gotta figure out what to do with you. Does Bats know you exist?” “They know.” Gotham pointed up. John’s eyes followed and were met with four pairs of white eyes, narrowed. They perched like the gargoyles that sat sentinel in the city skylines. He flinched at the crack of a bullet being fired. It ricocheted off the floor next to his feet. “Oy!” The circle flickered. Gotham jumped, floating up so that John’s eyes were met with hers. She cupped his face, her smile unnaturally wide, brilliantly white, and stared deeply into his eyes. Blunt fingers turning sharp, digging into his cheeks before relenting, before making him bleed. “Thank you, friend of my Bat.” She dissipated, leaving him with the ominous birds. He looked up at them, he could feel her presence within them. “Get out of Gotham.” Their words bounced off the brick walls around him, he swore he could hear the flutter of wings at their departure. “It feeds off you, mate.” John said, to no one.

Sorry for the not updating, been having a rough few days (weeks, I guess). Been wanting to write but couldn't get myself to move. Anyways, I will be updating a few of my other fics now, I hope you enjoy them! <3

#dc fanfic #fanfiction #gotham possesses #gotham #cryptid batman #cryptid batfam #cryptid robin #dc #john constantine #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne

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mrs-dr-strange · 7 years ago

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Exorcizamus

Prompt: What happens when the God of Thunder has been possessed by a demon?

Warnings: Possessed Thor is a bit fucked up, swearing, mentions of violence

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: I wrote this as part of @lady-thor-foster Halloween Writing challenge, albeit very late. I hope y’all enjoy it!

This was definitely not how you thought the night would go.

Thud.

Tony sighed as he looked between the monitors, “he’s like the Energizer Bunny in there. Any luck over there Dumbledore?”

You wished the couch would come to life like some Final Destination kill scene and swallow you whole so that this night would end. While normal people would be getting trashed at a Halloween party dressed in sexy or quirky costumes, and children dressed in whatever animated movie character was popular that year were becoming a Dentist’s wet dream from the numerous soon-to-be cavities from their candy haul’s- you were stuck here.

With a demon.

Well not like actual Lucifer himself bursting through the ground from the deepest depths of Hell to bring the world to its knees and obliterate every living soul to live for all eternity in some fucked up never ending nightmare. And to be fair it wasn’t completely your fault. Well it mostly was, but Sam didn’t stop you so technically he could get some blame as well.

“Can you just-,” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, “please explain how this happened. Because it’s not making a lick of sense.” Steve and Sam were staring through the monitors at Thor, each sharing the same face of confusion. The rest of the team were either on missions or were Clint and actually had kids to take trick-or-treating.

Thud

You shot out of your seat, your jaw clenching, “I was trying to finish the Halloween decorations since all of you are a bunch of party poopers and didn’t have anything out. I mean I expected more from you Stark, I haven’t seen a single pumpkin in this compound.”

“Getting off track there (Y/N), bring it back in.” Sam leaned against the conference table, folding his arms across his chest.

“I Googled decorations and found that pentagram thing and I thought it was spooky and painted it on the heli-pad outside since it already had a red circle on it. How was I supposed to know it was actually legit?”

Thud

Steve looked over his shoulder, “well did the Google say it was real?” Tony slowly turned around with his hands clasped together.

“FRIDAY please tell me you got that recorded.”

“Yes sir, and cataloged under ‘Just Capsicle Things.’” Tony smiled and continued his research.

You huffed, “yeah and I can also read online that Michael Jackson, Elvis, and Selena are living in Brazil together living their best lives sippin’ on margaritas but it doesn’t mean it’s true Steve. Everyone always say their witchy related things are real to get more likes and follows. Sam was there too, so don’t blame me on this.”

Sam slowly turned to face you, “Babygirl I never agreed on this voodoo stuff, I love you and all but what did I tell you when you went along and looked it up? Hmm? I said ‘Hell no, this is some horror movie about to happen.’ And what happened? Voodoo stuff gone wrong, this is why I don’t believe in this voodoo shit.”

Two Hours Earlier

You smiled looking at the masterpiece, the heli-pad was painted exactly like the pentagram from online. The fake cobwebs were spread amongst the balcony, jack-o-lanterns of all sizes adorning the walkways with fake blood smeared and splattered on the windows- tonight was going to be perfect. Steve was training, Tony more than likely had been in his lab for the past two days, and Sam was supposed to grab the pizza and beer for the party.

Everything was perfect.

As soon as you turned around to wash out the paint brushes that’s when you felt it- the hair on your arms began to stick up. You smiled turning around, shielding your eyes from where Thor used the bifrost to come back to earth. Mjolnir flew past you and cemented itself into the wall of the Compound.

When you told Thor about the plans for Halloween, he was ecstatic- never having experienced the human holiday before, he wanted to live through a ‘full experience’ before leaving back to Asgard.

“Lady (Y/N)! What a joyous day, tonight we shall feast on the souls of the dead and stuff our faces with candies like the tiny humans do.” Thor’s booming laughter came to a stop when he tried moving from the painted pentagram.

The color drained from your face as your eyes widened, black smoke rose from the intricate red lines and coiled its way around Thor’s body. “Step back, Lady (Y/N)! I shall protect you from this.” The veins in his arms protruded as he attempted to summon Mjolnir back to his hold, the black tendrils snaking their way around his chest, securing his arms to his sides as he cried out.

Just like a scene from a trashy horror movie, the black smoke began to restrict his thrashing body. “RUN LADY (Y/N), FIND THE OT-” Thor’s voice cut off from the sounds of him choking as the smoke entered his mouth, nostrils, eyes, and ears. His grunts of pain became louder as he fought and lost against the intruder.

Thor fell to his hands and knees, his face contorting as bolts of white and blue lightning shot from his body.

Terror overtook your face as Thor looked up at you- his once beautiful blue eyes were gone, now were emitting sparks and lightning from them. A growl rumbled out from his chest as he stood.

Well, fuck.

You sprinted towards the door to the Compound, narrowly avoiding the stupid pumpkins you set out earlier. The heavy thuds of Thor’s footsteps increased as he began to gain speed. Skidding around the corner of the balcony and into the living room, Sam stood- jaw dropping open as he tried taking in what was unfolding in front of him.

“MOVE YOUR ASS WILSON,” you nearly tacked Sam as you shut the glass door behind you, “FRIDAY CODE FUCKING RED!” Sam’s eyes darted between Thor and you. “I leave to get pizza and you get the God of fucking Thunder possessed?!”

“Fuck the pizza Sam, the glass door isn’t gonna hold him we need to get to the conference room.” You grabbed his hand as the emergency lights began flickering, alarm wailing as Code Red Protocols began to set in place. FRIDAY unlocked the doors to allow for you and Sam to make your way down the corridors and to the secured conference room.

Present

“I mean someone online has to know how to get rid of demons, right?” You looked up to Sam as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I mean they put the damn instructions on how to get one here, they gotta know how to get them out.”

“Listen lovebirds, as much fun as this is, we have a little problem- well not little more like a missing Asgardian-Demon-Possessed-God who thinks this is Amityville.” Tony projected the live camera feed from the balcony where Thor had once been trying to punch his way through the titanium lock down door. The deafening sound of thunder filled your ears followed by the whir of the electricity shutting down. Steve grabbed his shield while Sam pushed you behind him.

“Stark, tell me FRIDAY is still online somehow.” Steve put his ear to the door in an attempt to listen for Thor’s footsteps.

Tony scoffed, “FRIDAY runs on a different power supply for this very reason Rogers, right buddy?” the corner of his mouth quirked up as he pointed towards the ceiling, the room fell silent waiting for the chirping sound of JARVIS acknowledging them. “Sound in man.”

He clasped his hands over his head, nervously laughing as he looked around the room, “Well. This is just fantastic.”

You could feel your fingers begin to twitch from anxiety, “We just gotta get the power back online right? Can’t be that hard.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Yeah sure, it’s just a neon flashing sign saying ‘press me’, and pow- the electricity comes back online and we can watch The Poltergeist with an actual Demon. He already has the pizza and beer out there with him, so why not? Not to mention a literal demon has possessed a God and cannot be accounted for.”

“If we stay here we’re sitting ducks, if we go out there we at least have a chance of not dying in this tiny ass space.” Sam took your hand in his, gently squeezing it as his thumb brushed over your knuckles. “Steve, time to live up to your name.”

This plan was a long shot, and by long shot I mean you could go to the moon and back and still be shorter than what the plan entailed.

Your breath caught at every corner, Steve was taking lead and scoping out the corners before signaling an all clear, followed by Tony, Sam and yourself. The soft scuffing of shoes echoing down the corridors, Steve was the first one to stop. His body grew tense as he raised his hand for everyone to stop.

The soft crackling of electricity and the thud of Thor’s footsteps increasingly getting louder as they got closer to your group. Logistically, hallways weren’t the best for defending yourself along with three other people again a Demon possessed God, but it’s not like you exactly had the choice of prime real estate here.

“Thor? It’s (Y/N).” You squinted as the sparks from Thor’s finger tips gave the hall a blue hue, “I just want to talk.”

“Puny humans, I will rip your weak spines from your bodies and beat you with them until your slow and agonizing death, then wear them as a necklace.” Thor’s usual deep and beautiful voice now felt like it could crawl under your skin.

Your face scrunched up as you looked to Sam and Tony, who sported the same expressions, “Christ, did you hear that?” Sam jerkily nodded his head as he kept you behind his back. To

“Or shall I ha-“

“Steve, make him shut the hell up already.”

Steve took a deep breath, cocked his arm back and launched his shield at Thor, slicing through the air until it ricocheted off the wall and floor, eventually lodging itself into the ceiling above Thor.

A cackle rose from Thor’s throat as he watched the miserable attempt. “Stupid humans, now I will-“ As he stepped forward- he hissed, seemingly stuck within a boundary. A smile plastered on your face as you realized it worked. Looking above Thor’s head, drawn on with a tube of red lipstick on the inside of Steve’s shield was a Devil’s trap.

“Hit it Stark.”

Tony grinned and played the recording on his phone, “bye bye Regan.”

‘Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas..’

Thor’s hands began to twitch, “you truly believe you can stop me? I will only stop once your hearts are ripped from your chests.”

‘omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica’

“You sure this is going to work (Y/N)?” You could see the sweat beginning to form on Steve’s forehead as he watched Thor try to escape from the trap.

‘ergo draco maledicte, ut ecclesiam tuam secura, tibi facias libertate servire’

"I saw it on TV, we should be good.”

‘te rogamus, audi nos.”

Thor’s body stiffened, his head shooting back as a blood curdling scream escaping from his throat. The black smoke being expelled from his body, forming an ominous cloud above his head. As he fell limply to the floor, the black cloud erupted into flames spanning across the ceiling.

Sam grabbed you and dropped to the floor, shielding you from the blast. Groaning at the cold tile against your back you looked up into his brown eyes. “You ok babygirl?” Sam sat back on his heels, eyes scanning over you body looking for any signs of harm.

Steve knelt by Thor’s body checking his breathing and pulse.

“Besides having a man tackle me to the ground to prevent me from the blast that happened on the other side of the room? I would headbutt your pretty face if we weren’t together.” He smiled and shook his head as you pushed him off of you, “yeah, yeah, Love you too (Y/N).”

Tony stood, brushing off his arms, “listen next year, how about more pumpkins and less Demonic possessions of super powered Gods?”

You groaned, shielding your face with your hands trying to conceal your embarrassment, “no one else will hear about this, Stark. Understood? Because I will kick your ass Stark and Im 80% FRIDAY wouldn't stop me.”

#fosters halloween writing challenge

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