#there are nice places like the park. but it's so small and confined

[sleepvines]

when things get green I gotta visit the park or take a bus somewhere I swear...

[kissesbyliz]

simon having beef with your dog.

the thing hates him, he's sure. he's been aware of the fact ever since the first time it jumped up at him, indulging itself with a nice helping of his brand new jeans.

"oh my god!" you gaped at his jeans with horror, immediately scooping the offending animal into your arms. even within its confines, the creature still manages a growl that simon swears is nothing less than evil.

between the sweet apologizes falling from your lips and the way your eyes widened in embarrassment, simon unsurprisingly found it difficult to stay mad. after fixing him a change of clothes and apologizing profusely for your pet's behavior, you urged your pet into its play pen to prevent her from ruining the rest of the night. she stared up at you with wide eyes, letting out a pitiful whine as she was obviously not used to being locked up.

though the inner dog-lover in him should be feeling a twinge of guilt at the sight, simon couldn't deny a sense of victory.

at least now, they were even.

they used to be even. used to. his score was ultimately decimated after countless incidents of your dog peeing all over his boots, stealing his food, and gnawing it's way through the souvenirs he brought for you from missions.

why the thing hates him so much is beyond him. ever since the first incident, he's tried every bribery method under the sun. from endless treats to long walks in her favorite park, all his attempts ended the same way: with his hand being damn near ripped off his arm.

after weeks of no progress, you had brought up the idea of meeting at his place instead. simon refused. he couldn't handle the thought of you traveling the hour it takes to get to his apartment, just to see him. after all, if he could handle countless hordes of enemies and disarm bombs, he sure as hell could handle some dog.

which of course, brings him to his current predicament.

after a particularly long deployment, you've taken the liberty of planning a special welcome home dinner for him and his task force. nothing big, just a small gathering to celebrate a reunion between friends as well as a job well done.

you insisted on doing all the work of preparing the food and letting him relax on the couch. it was a dinner in celebration of him as well, after all. the very last thing simon wanted was to leave you to do all the work, but if he was going to do anything about your dog, he had to do it now.

because even though he'd call his task force some of the closest friends he has, he pales at the idea of them finding out that a dog has him beat. he can already imagine how they'll react: a (horribly) stifled laugh from price, a smart jab from gaz, and an unashamed guffaw from johnny. and of course, the endless amounts of taunting that'll be flowing throughout the base. yeah, that's not going to happen. least of all, in front of his girl.

he approaches the play pen which houses your dog slowly, attempting to seem as unintimidating as he can for someone of his stature. your pet immediately takes notice--has had an eye laser pointed on him since the moment he arrived--and starts up a low growl.

"hey..girl..." he greets awkwardly, crouching down in a manner that allows his every action to be observed. it's evident that your dog couldn't be less happy with his presence, with the way she moves to the opposite end of the enclosure. he sighs, dropping onto the floor next to the pen and wincing at the slight pain shooting up his tailbone.

"why d'ya hate me so much, huh?" your dog huffed, closing her eyes and assuming a sleeping position. simon didn't even know dogs were capable of the silent treatment. unfazed, he pushes on, speaking to the dog as if it miraculously developed the ability to understand him.

"all i wanna do is spend time with my girl, and all you do is try to make me look like the bad guy." he shoots her an unimpressed look. "it's not like i'm gonna take her away, y'know."

to simon's surprise, the dog rises and begins to slowly approach him and for once, without utter disdain in her eyes. simon really didn't expect that to work, but he supposes he doesn't have any room to complain. he gulps -- he's never made it this far before. carefully, he raises a big hand up to stroke over the dog's soft fur.

in a flash, the canine snaps her teeth onto the surface of his skin. hard.

"fuck--!" he snarls, snatching his hand away. at that moment, the doorbell rings and he cradles his aching hand to his chest. he stands up, glaring hard at the animal as he goes to answer the door.

"hey, there's my favorite girl!" johnny pushes past him and beelines for the play pen, where your dog is excitedly standing on its hind legs to greet him. simon's never seen her tail wag so fast. she eagerly yips for him to come closer, bowing to allow him to scratch behind her ears.

"oh, and hey to you too, i guess." johnny briefly nods in acknowledgement in your direction. you playfully roll your eyes, giggling at his display.

"simon. 's good to see you." price offers a brief nod, and kyle pats him on the shoulder before they both walk around him to join johnny at the play pen. the dog takes to the rest of his team just as easily, greeting them all with tail wags and licks to the hand.

simon riley is at a loss.

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

Conversation (pwp)

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Joel Miller x f!reader | WC : 2.7k | Proof read : NO | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN |

Summary: porn with minimal plot

Warnings: m!oral, switch vibes and p in v

A/n: yall im posting again wooooo

You had been teasing Joel all afternoon, throwing him playful glances and dropping suggestive comments. It was a game—a game you loved to play, especially with him. Joel, is always so composed, always the one in control. But today, you felt like pushing his buttons, testing his limits. You were in the front seat of his truck, parked in a secluded spot overlooking the city, the sun beginning to dip behind the skyline, casting a golden hue over everything.

“Start a conversation with me,” you had said earlier, a mischievous grin on your lips. Joel looked at you, puzzled, his brows furrowing in that familiar way that always made your heart skip a beat.

“What do you mean, start a conversation?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of amusement. His eyes scanned your face, trying to figure out what you were up to.

“Just trust me,” you replied, placing your hand gently on his knee, your touch feather-light, almost innocent. But there was nothing innocent about the way your fingers started to move, tracing slow, lazy circles on the worn denim of his jeans. You could see the way his breath caught, the way his eyes darkened with a mix of confusion and desire. He was trying to keep up with you, trying to play along, but you could tell he was already struggling, caught off guard by your sudden boldness.

“Okay…” he said slowly, still watching you closely, as if trying to decipher your intentions. “Where’s your dream vacation?” he asked, his voice a bit tentative. He glanced out at the city skyline, a nervous habit of his when he was unsure when he didn’t quite know what to make of you.

You leaned back in your seat, a smirk playing on your lips as you answered, “Somewhere sunny.” You let the words hang in the air, your tone light, teasing. Joel’s gaze flicked back to you, his brow arching slightly.

“Sunny? No specifics?” he pressed, his tone a mix of curiosity and amusement. He was catching on now, starting to sense where you might be leading.

You decided to take a bold step. Your hand slipped higher up his thigh, fingers brushing dangerously close to the growing bulge in his jeans. You watched as he gulped—a small, involuntary movement that made your stomach flutter with excitement. A 56-year-old man, usually so confident, gulping at your touch—it was delicious.

“Do you want specifics?” you purred, your voice low and sultry. Joel shifted in his seat, his body tensing under your touch.

“Darlin’, what do you mean?” he murmured, his voice a little strained as if he was trying to maintain his composure. But his eyes were glued to yours, his breath coming a little faster.

Instead of answering, you moved your hand to his belt, fingers working deftly to undo the buckle. “Shh… we’re having a conversation here,” you said softly, but with a hint of mischief in your tone. You watched his eyes widen slightly as his cock sprang free, thick and hard, from the confines of his boxers. A slow, satisfied smile spread across your face at the sight of him so worked up, so on edge.

“I think somewhere like the Bahamas or Costa Rica,” you continued, your voice sweet and innocent as if you weren’t stroking him slowly, deliberately. “They have pretty beaches, don’t you think?”

Joel coughed, trying to regain some semblance of control, but his voice came out rough, and uneven. “Well… uh… Florida… um, Florida has some nice beaches too,” he stammered, his eyes fluttering closed as your hand continued its torturous rhythm.

“Yeah, but I’d kill to see the Caribbean,” you teased, your voice soft and airy. Joel was starting to lose it now, his hips bucking slightly against your hand, his breathing coming in shallow pants. You could feel him getting closer, his body betraying him.

“You should see Florida too,” he managed, his voice a bit desperate now.

You smiled, bringing your other hand into his lap, finding his balls and caressing them with a soft, teasing pressure. “Maybe we could go to Disney World in Florida,” you mused, your tone still light and conversational as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

Joel’s eyes snapped open, locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, his neck tense, a vein pulsing there. “I… I can’t… fuck, suck me off, darlin’,” he begged, his voice rough, almost pleading.

You paused for a moment, almost surprised. Joel begging? The man who could make you see stars with a single touch, the man who had fucked you so hard his back had gone out? A shiver of excitement ran through you, but you decided to play with him a little longer.

“No… we still have to—”

But before you could finish, he grabbed the nape of your neck, his fingers digging into your hair, and pushed your head down onto his cock, his need overtaking him. The suddenness of it made you gag, your throat constricting around his length. He held you there, forcing you to take him, his hips thrusting up, driving deeper into your mouth, each movement rough and demanding.

Then, just as suddenly, he released his grip, letting you pull back, gasping for air, your eyes watering. “Fuck you,” you muttered, your voice hoarse.

Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression a mix of disbelief and arousal, but there was something else there—something darker, something simmering just beneath the surface. The truck's interior felt suddenly smaller and more intimate, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of leather and sweat. You felt a rush of heat, a blend of excitement and defiance, pulse through your veins.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, as if daring you to repeat yourself. The truck's engine was off, and the world outside seemed to fade away; all that mattered now was this confined space and the tension crackling between you.

You smirked, feeling a thrill at the challenge in his voice. "You heard me," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper, but filled with a teasing confidence. Your hand didn’t stop, your fingers working his cock with a firm, steady rhythm. He was rock hard, and you could feel him throbbing in your grip, the veins on his shaft bulging with each pulse. It made you bolder, and braver than you usually felt.

Joel’s breath hitched, his control slipping. He wasn’t used to this—being toyed with, being pushed to the edge. He was the one who was supposed to be in charge. But right now, with your hand wrapped around him, teasing him, driving him crazy, he wasn’t sure who held the power anymore.

“Keep talking,” he demanded, but his voice broke, a desperate edge creeping in. “Tell me more about this… Caribbean vacation.” He tried to sound casual, but you could hear the strain, see it in the way his hand gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white.

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "I think it would be beautiful. Warm sand beneath my feet, the ocean stretching out forever, the sun kissing every inch of my skin…" Your hand moved faster, your thumb swirling around the tip of his cock, collecting the slick bead of precum that had gathered there. “And maybe,” you continued, your voice husky, “we’d find a secluded spot, just the two of us… where I could do this.”

You bent down, finally taking him into your mouth, your lips closing around his swollen head. Joel groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily, pushing himself deeper into your warm, wet mouth. The sound he made—a deep, guttural moan—sent a thrill through you, your own body responding, heat pooling low in your belly.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he breathed, his hand finding its way to the back of your head again, but this time his grip was gentler, his fingers threading through your hair as he guided you. “That’s it… take it all.”

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper, your tongue flicking against the underside of his cock, feeling the way he throbbed against you. His taste was salty and intoxicating, and you moaned around him, the vibration making him curse under his breath. You felt powerful, and in control, every whimper and groan from him feeding the fire inside you.

Joel’s hips started to move, slow thrusts that matched the rhythm of your mouth. His breath was ragged now, his control slipping with every second. “Jesus, you’re gonna make me come,” he warned, his voice tight. “Is that what you want?”

You pulled back just enough to murmur, “Not yet,” before plunging back down, taking him as deep as you could. You felt him hit the back of your throat, and you fought the urge to gag, pushing past it, wanting to give him everything, wanting to drive him wild. You looked up at him through your lashes, watching his face contort with pleasure, his lips parted, eyes half-closed, lost in the sensation.

“Fuck, you’re such a tease,” he groaned, his grip tightening again. “You want me to beg, is that it?”

You hummed around his cock, a low, teasing sound that made him buck into your mouth. You pulled back, letting him slip from your lips, and smiled up at him, your hand still stroking him slowly, torturously. “Maybe,” you said. “Or maybe I just want to see how far I can push you before you snap.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, the shadows in his gaze deepening with a mix of frustration and hunger. He looked down at you, his lips curling into a predatory smile, a hint of challenge flickering in his eyes. "You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart," he warned his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “And you know what happens when you push me too far.”

Your heart pounded, excitement buzzing through your veins. You loved this—the edge of danger, the thrill of seeing him unravel. Leaning in, you let your breath ghost over the slick, throbbing head of his cock, your lips brushing against his skin just enough to drive him crazy. “Maybe,” you whispered, “I want to see what happens.”

His grip on your hair tightened, his knuckles brushing your scalp, and he yanked you up to his level, his face inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. “Oh, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a rough, needy growl, “I’ll show you exactly what happens.”

Without warning, Joel’s mouth crashed onto yours, the kiss hard and demanding, filled with a raw, desperate hunger that took your breath away. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you with a fierce possessiveness that made your knees go weak. You moaned into the kiss, your hands clutching at his shirt, needing something to hold onto as his intensity threatened to consume you.

His hand slid from your hair to your waist, pulling you closer, his rough grip on your hips bruising in its urgency. You could feel the hard press of his cock against your stomach, still throbbing, still aching for release. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting, leaving a trail of marks that made you gasp, your body arching against him. 

"Joel…" you breathed, your voice a mix of a plea and a challenge. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the dampness between your thighs growing with every touch, every kiss. You wanted more. You wanted all of him.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes boring into yours, dark and intense, his chest heaving. "Turn around," he ordered, his voice rough with desire. There was no room for argument in his tone, and you felt a thrill run through you at his command. You loved it when he took control when he showed you just how much he needed you.

You obeyed, turning around in the cramped space of the truck, your hands bracing against the dashboard. You felt his hands on your hips, strong and demanding, pulling your ass back against him. The heat of his body pressed against yours, his cock hot and heavy against your backside. You could feel him shift behind you, the sound of your zipper being pulled down, and your breath hitched, anticipation coiling tight in your stomach.

"Spread your legs," Joel growled in your ear, his voice a low, dangerous whisper that sent a jolt of arousal straight to your core. You did as he said, parting your thighs, your heart racing with the knowledge of what was coming next.

He didn’t waste any time. One hand slipped down between your legs, finding the wet heat of your core, his fingers sliding through your folds, teasing your clit with a rough, skilled touch that made you gasp, your hips bucking back against him. “So wet for me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “You like this, don’t you? Being my little slut.”

You whimpered, nodding, unable to form words, your body trembling with need. His fingers pressed harder against your clit, rubbing in slow, torturous circles that made you see stars, your head falling back against his shoulder. 

“Joel, please…” you begged your voice a breathless whisper. You needed him. Needed him to take you, to fill you, to make you his.

He chuckled darkly, a low, dangerous sound that made your skin prickle with anticipation. “Please what, darlin’?” he taunted, his fingers slipping lower, teasing your entrance, his cock brushing against your slick folds, just enough to make you moan. “Use your words.”

You swallowed hard, your body quivering with desire, your hands gripping the dashboard tighter. “Please, Joel… fuck me,” you pleaded, your voice raw with desperation. 

That was all he needed to hear. With a rough, almost feral growl, he thrust into you, filling you in one hard, deep stroke that made you cry out, your body arching against him. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you so completely, was almost too much, too intense, and yet you craved more. 

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he set a brutal pace, his thrusts deep and relentless, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars. “So tight… so fucking perfect.”

You could feel the truck rocking with the force of his thrusts, the windows fogging up from the heat of your bodies. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your moans filling the small space, mingling with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Every nerve in your body was on fire, every touch, every thrust driving you closer to the edge.

“Joel, I’m close,” you whimpered, your voice breaking with need. You could feel the coil tightening in your belly, the wave of pleasure building, threatening to crash over you.

“Then come for me,” he growled, his voice rough, his thrusts becoming even harder, more erratic. “Come on my cock, darlin’. Let me feel you squeeze me.”

His words were your undoing. With a loud cry, you came, your body convulsing around him, your walls clenching tight around his cock, milking him for all he was worth. The pleasure was blinding, overwhelming, crashing over you in waves that left you trembling, breathless, your mind spinning.

Joel wasn’t far behind. With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he came, filling you with his hot release. You could feel him throbbing inside you, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm, his hands gripping your hips so tight you knew you’d have bruises.

For a moment, the only sound in the truck was your combined heavy breathing, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Slowly, Joel pulled out of you, his cock softening, and you slumped forward against the dashboard, your body spent, still quivering from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He leaned over you, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice still rough, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

You laughed breathlessly, turning your head to look at him, your own lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Worth it,” you replied, your voice soft, teasing.

Joel chuckled, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips. “Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes softening, a rare, tender look crossing his face. “Definitely worth it.”

[exorcqism]

﹆₊見学‧₊˚ FIELD TRIP, AIKU OLIVER

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ taking a road trip with your boyfriend..but that’s not all. wc, 1.27K. dark mode recommended

␥ note. after two months of doing absolutely nothing besides playing minecraft and genshin impact, i got into blue lock and finished the entire thing in a week (this was in june) but i'm kinda back because this entire time i been thinking about writing..and today, i specifically wanted to write for oliver (i'm scared i never wrote for him). but my choso era never ends so they both my man now. ANYWAYYY WE ARE SO BACK. reblog to support meee and enjoyyy (btw this is NOT proof read so i apologize if there are any errors…if not..well lmk how much you enjoyed this)

␥ tags. fingering, smut, female anatomy, female reader, smoking, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3

you and oliver had been driving for hours, the endless road stretching out before you. a slight shiver ran through your body as the cool air from the air conditioning caressed your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

the landscape outside the window was a blur of greens and browns, the trees and fields merging into a tapestry of nature's colors. occasionally, a small town would appear on the horizon, only to fade away as quickly as it came.

the car was filled with a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of a snack bag. oliver's hands were steady on the wheel, his gaze focused yet relaxed. you glanced over at him, appreciating the calm determination in his eyes. the journey felt like a shared adventure, each mile bringing you closer to an unspoken destination.

as the sun began to set, the sky transformed into a canvas of oranges, pinks, and purples. the air outside grew cooler, and you pulled a light blanket over your lap, feeling its warmth contrast with the chill from the air conditioning. the soft glow of the dashboard lights added a sense of tranquility to the moment, and you couldn't help but smile at the serenity of it all.

"do you wanna stop soon?" oliver's voice broke the silence, gentle and considerate.

"maybe at the next town," you replied, your voice equally soft. "it would be nice to stretch our legs and find a place to rest for the night."

he nodded, and you both settled back into the quiet rhythm of the drive, content in each other's company as the road continued to unfold before you.

after a while, the glow of distant lights signaled the approach of the next town. as you got closer, the small town's charm became evident with its quaint houses and a few scattered shops. the anticipation of a restful night ahead filled you with a sense of calm and satisfaction, making the long journey feel all the more worthwhile.

when you both arrived at a nearby hotel, oliver parked the car and gave you a mischievous look, his heterochromatic eyes twinkling with a playful challenge. “wanna go in or stay out here for the night?”

you gave oliver a confused look, eyebrows furrowing as you processed his question. anyone in their right mind would go in the hotel, you thought, especially after such a long drive. the idea of a warm bed and a proper shower was incredibly appealing. but he never mentioned stopping at any hotels until just now, and his sudden suggestion caught you off guard.

your confused expression gradually faded, replaced by a soft smile as you finally spoke up, “i guess we can stay in here.” the prospect of spending the night in the cozy confines of the car, wrapped in blankets and sharing whispered conversations, suddenly seemed like an interesting continuation of this sudden trip.

with that, you heard the engine's gentle hum cease, leaving a profound silence filling the car. you reclined the seat you were sitting in, feeling the soft leather against your back as you stretched out and propped your feet up against the dashboard, the cool surface a stark contrast to the warmth of the blanket draped over your legs.

beside you, oliver's window was rolled down, allowing the crisp night air to flow in. you watched as a grey cloud of smoke curled gracefully from his lips, swirling and dancing in the air before drifting out of the window with each exhale. the scent of tobacco mingled with the cool night breeze, creating a momentary haze that contrasted with the clarity of the starry sky above.

oliver’s hand drifted over to your thigh, his fingers grazing your skin with a featherlight touch. his thumb began to trace gentle circles just beneath the hem of your shorts, the warmth of his hand contrasting with the cool air seeping in through the open window.

the sensation sent a shiver up your spine, each caress igniting a trail of tingling warmth that spread through your body. his touch was both tender and deliberate, a silent communication that spoke volumes in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

it wasn’t long until you and oliver found yourselves in the backseat, a tangle of limbs and fervent whispers. his movements were slow and deliberate, each touch a calculated stroke that sent waves of desire coursing through you.

his hands explored the contours of your body, fingers tracing the delicate curves of your sides with an almost reverent tenderness. the roughness of his facial hair grazed your skin, each kiss a mix of gentle passion and raw intensity.

oliver's lips met yours with a fervent hunger, the intensity of his kisses leaving you breathless. he moved from your mouth to your neck, his kisses becoming rougher, more insistent. the coarse texture of his chin tickled your skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake.

as he sucked and nibbled on the sensitive flesh of your neck, you felt a mixture of pain and pleasure, each mark he left a testament to his desire. the reddish-purple bruises blossomed under his touch, a map of his affection painted across your skin.

without hesitation, his hands slid beneath your pants, fingers deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them. with deliberate slowness, he began to peel the fabric away from your skin, the rough denim sliding down your legs.

the sensation of your underwear following suit, gliding down to join the discarded pants on the car floor, left you exposed and vulnerable. the cool air brushed against your newly bared skin, heightening your senses and amplifying the anticipation thrumming through your veins.

slowly, oliver inserted two fingers into your core, the deliberate pressure and gradual intrusion sending shivers of intense pleasure through your body. he began to pump them in and out with a rhythmic precision, each movement igniting a cascade of sensations that left you breathless.

the warmth of his fingers contrasted with the cool night air, heightening the electric connection between you. with every thrust, waves of ecstasy coursed through you, eliciting uncontrollable moans that filled the intimate space of the car. you writhed beneath him, your body arching and trembling, fully surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure he was orchestrating.

instinctively, your nails dig into oliver’s shoulder, leaving crescent-shaped imprints on his skin as you throw your head back against the car door. your legs remain spread obediently, trembling slightly, as oliver's ministrations send ripples of pleasure coursing through you.

each gasp and moan that escapes your lips only seems to spur him on, creating an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

as the rhythm of his movements intensified, you felt yourself reaching the precipice of release. the tension coiled within you like a spring, ready to snap at any moment. with a final, shuddering gasp, you were sent tumbling over the edge, waves of bliss crashing over you in a symphony of pure sensation.

your body trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. oliver held you close, his fingers still inside you, offering a gentle pressure as your heartbeat gradually began to slow.

the intimacy of the moment enveloped you both, the cool night air mingling with the warmth of your shared passion. slowly, oliver removed his fingers, the sticky mess stretching from your core to the tips of his fingers and around his digits.

“maybe we should’ve went in the hotel, yeah?”

© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

[willtheweaver]

A writer’s guide to forests: woodlands made by man

Forests are for the most part, the realm of nature. But what about those with a less than natural origin? Here are some woodlands that are shaped artificially.

Parks and gardens- Trees look nice, there’s no denying it. As long as there have been people who admire trees, there have been gardens and parks. Grassy meadows, neatly trimmed hedges and flower beds may get all the attention, but an accenting grove, or a rambling woodland always adds to the aesthetic. Wealthy aristocrats would import trees from far away places, while more modest landowners and public spaces grow native species. Though the results do look quite natural, they are nonetheless human creations.

Orchard- Fruit and nut bearing trees have always been favored as a reliable source of food. And so people since nearly the beginning of agriculture have been planting orchards to provide for them. Trees are planted in rows, evenly spaced apart for the ease of harvesting. Smaller orchards, those catering to families who pick their own fruit, and those that grow fairly delicate fruits still do the harvesting by hand, while many more rely on machines to do the heavy lifting.

Tree farm/ plantation- Many trees types cultivated are deciduous species, but there are some instances when conifers are preferred. Being relatively fast growing, and usually possessing a single, straight trunk, they are the ideal tree type for use as lumber and paper products. Of course, one cannot forget the need every November and December for Christmas trees.

Palm plantation- The tropics are ideal for growing oil palms. Thousands of acres are devoted to the tree, as so much of our food and other products these days relies on palm oil. This is not a good thing as the demand means that vast areas of rainforest have had to be cleared. In Indonesia, the problem is particularly evident, as the growth of palm plantations is one of the main factors behind the decline of orangutan numbers.

Coconut grove- Almost anywhere you go in the tropics will have coconut palms. Buoyant, the nut floats easily on the currents, and where it is too isolated for a coconut to reach naturally (such as Hawaii), people have brought it with them. As well as the coconuts, the palms themsevles are also used; palm fronds can be used for roofing, and the fibers are used in weaving.

Bonsai forest- The art of growing miniature trees has been practiced for centuries. Some trees are collected in the wild, harsh natural conditions causing the trees to grow slowly and stay small, but many more are shaped over many years. While many bonsai are grown singularly, groves and forests are also popular choices. These can be either monospecific, or mixed, and can be part of a larger landscape creation that includes rocks, water, and figures.

There are plenty of examples of forest areas that are man-made. Don’t feel like you have to confine your story to a natural woodland. Use what you find around you to inspire the setting and drive your characters and the plot. What happens on the earth can easily be applied to science fiction or fantasy. Put your own spin on it (maybe your characters are small and live in a bonsai forest…of course they could also be normal sized people who happen to be in a giant sized bonsai planting).

Edit: As pointed out in the comments/reblogs, I seemed to have forgotten woodlots, so I am going to include those.

Woodlot- Common areas open to members of the community include a mixture of open pastureland and forested areas. People would have their flocks and herds forage here in spring and summer, whilst they managed and harvested the trees. Trees in woodlots would not be felled, instead the branches would be cut back and allowed to regrow. The resulting growth produces straight branches that are used in constructing walls, fences, as well as firewood and charcoal. (Communal pastures and woodlots are not really thought of these days, as many areas were lost over the years due to industrialization, urbanization, and the enclosure of land by the aristocracy)

[averseunhinged]

it's been a minute since i participated in wip wednesday! so, here's a snippet from a response to a prompt about caroline calling klaus at some point in the years after their parting. it's another one of my experiments with present tense. i think i caught everywhere i flipped back to past, but who knows. there may be wonkiness.

He isn't sure if he wants this place anymore, but it's too late to turn back. It's his, for whatever it's worth, and his only remaining goal is to keep his daughter safe.

His cell phone vibrates in his pocket. There aren't many people he feels like speaking with, but far too many he's required to. It's a constant frustration, feeling so confined when he should be reveling in his freedom. 

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose. 

He looks at the screen and smiles. Daisy Buchanan. It's a terribly self-indulgent cryptonym, but he couldn't help himself. 

“Sweetheart,” he greets her. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Hey, Klaus.” There is a moment of quiet on the other end of the line. He can't hear anything other than her. Her breath. Her throat when she swallows. The beating of her heart. Road beneath tires, the thrum of an engine underneath the many layers named Caroline. “How's New Orleans?”

“Complicated,” he answers, feeling wry. His sense of humor has become less palatable, detached and bitter, even to his own consumption.

She laughs. It's small, not much more than a barely formed breath of humor, but he feels over a thousand locks, one for each year of his life, loosening with the sound. “Isn't it always?”

He hooks a left and hops a forbidding fence into a grassy, open area. It's nearly deserted at this time. Only a few brave or unfortunate souls linger in the darkest part of night. Neither of them continue the conversation

She's the one to break the silence. “Where are you? I hear water. And…birds?”

“Ah,” he hums and smiles again. He can't remember the last time he did. Certainly not since Hope's disastrous birth. It feels foreign, an unpracticed movement of trembling cheeks and wobbling chin. “I’m having a wander in one of the Quarter's many parks. It’s by the river.”

“That sounds nice.” She is quiet. Subdued in a way he's never heard from her.

“It has its moments. The smell of the river is a bit overwhelming.” He looks around, thinking of her more than his surroundings. “There's grass. Statues and a fountain. Some lovely old oaks and a place for children to play. You'd like it.”

“Yeah, I probably would.”

“Where are you?” He doesn't know what the rules of engagement are with her now. She reached out to him. Isn't distracting him or making demands. Seems to only want to talk to him. It's different than he's accustomed to.

“In Stefan's car. I'm driving.”

“I can hear that. I'm surprised he's allowing it.”

The pause in conversation this time is lengthy. The only thing he can hear, beyond the rumble of the old engine, is Caroline's breathing as it stops and doesn't start again until she speaks. “Do you think he'd mind?”

There is wrought iron fencing along this part of the river. He leans his elbows on it and holds the phone up to his ear, even though he doesn't need to. Brings her closer to him the only way he can. 

“No,” he says, though he doesn't know in truth. Stefan could be a bit fussy about the oddest things. “Not if it's you.”

[vitzi9]

Merry Christmas !

Ghostface x Gn!reader

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

TW/CW: reader has a mother, breaking in, brief mention of kys

Merry (late) Christmas to those who celebrates it and even those who don't. Also happy new year, I hope this year will be full of money and health for you all. Also if you have any projects I deeply hope it'll realize.

I have the unpleasant feeling this work is sloppy and that I'm regressing and losing vocabulary. Also Ethan gave me the ick here, I made him a total loser.

I literally wrote so many different things and yet I can't finish any of them, this is pure torture.

05/01/2024 (7 409 words)

You're not one to go all out for Christmas, most of the time, it's just a pretext for family to gather and eat and share some juicy gossip. And you love it ! When they're not pestering you with question about your love life or job or study or just anything boring.

This year, you all gathered at your aunt's house. She's a single mother of one, they live alone in this huge cottage far away from the city you're used to. It's nice living here but it's deeply disabling being obligated to use your car to just buy some bread.

In New York, you either walk or use public transports.

It's still fun to be here on vacations, it changes from your daily life. Your mom is going back and forth between the car and the house to empty the car boot, you on the other side, are stuck with your aunt and cousin. Your aunt is telling you how glad she is to finally see the whole family together, saying how much you've grown and bla bla bla.

"Come help me with your stuff !" your mom calls you from outside.

Not making her repeat herself by fear of regretting it later, you hurry to the alley outside. Your mother is already emptying the car, throwing your bags on the ground and frenetically searching for what you assume are her phone, in your pocket.

Walking to her side, you hand her her phone which owes you a thanks before she pulls you to the car trunk. Sighing, your hand grab the bag you brought with you full with clothes. You're staying here for a week after all ! But you can't even take out the bag entirely from its confine as something lower catch your eyes; the tire. It's all deflated.

"Mom, is it me or our tire's flat ?" you make her know instantly. She turns her head to you and frowns.

"Shit you're right." she double check."That's weird, it wasn't like that when we parked here earlier." A small silence filled with bird's singing and light wind replace her words. "It's just our luck, she sighs. We'll change it the day of our departure, your aunt probably has a spare tire."

Your mom doesn't let you answer as she grabs her bag and leave to the house. You're left alone before the open car boot, thinking about your bad luck. Here, it's a necessity to have a working car ! The nearest grocery store is hours away from here by foot and thirty minutes by car.

Crouching down, you put your hand on the holed tire to examine it. You don't really understand, that's some really bad gash, what the hell ? What did you even drove on ? The hole is as big as the length of two of your index fingers. Surely even driving over a nail wouldn't do that.

Are animals frequent in this area ? Or maybe it was already holed at home but the long road worsen it. Just your luck, from every car in the country, or even just the ones here, your car had to be targeted. The world hates you. You hope you won't often need to use your car.

Grabbing the handle of your bag, you slam the trunk door of the vehicle and head to your room. Damn, you kind of missed this place to be honest. You have pretty good memories from here !

The house is quite separated from the other, forest being the only thing present here. You remember climbing up trees, playing in the snow or watching TV before the chimney. And this exact room in which you're staying for the week already hosted you, with its heavy blankets that more often than not itches but are too warm to let go.

You know this place all too well.

What changed ? Life was so cool before, so simple. You did not have to go to a school you don't even like, you never even had to think about later. Your later was asking yourself what would be your next snack. And yet, here you are today, thrown in adult world. And you're deeply lost, everything is so slow and fast at the same time.

You fear you might lose your friends by changing University, you fear to start everything over again, you fear to stay forever stuck in a job you don't like. This room offers you a moment of peace, a portal from your childhood reminding you how everything was easier before.

Shame hits you because you know you'll have to come down to greet everyone when you have nothing to talk about. You're not excellent at school, nor bad, just in the fair middle. You don't have any partner, but you have a few friends. Your life's just boring and you don't want to tell it to everyone. Each one of your cousin always find something to be proud of, you don't have much, nothing to brag about.

To light up the mood, you turn on your phone to send a message to one of your friends; she seems busy as she's not answering. Same for the few others friends you have, some you're not even that close to, only friends at school.

Delight cross you in seeing someone writing you, only for the name to disappear immediately before you're able to see it. Man, you could have finally erased the boredom.

After some time mourning in your corner, your mom yelled at you from the living room to get down to greet the family. Sighing, you turn off your phone and rise up from your bed.

A faint music was heard in the background already, small snacks could be seen scattered a little everywhere on every surface and your aunts, cousins and uncles were greeting each others warmly.

Your mom tells you to come beside her by a sign of the hand, going down each stairs slowly, taking your time, you think about your bed which you already miss.

Greeting every person on the way, smiling, taking news from the family you dare ask yourself what have you done to deserve such a big household. By the time you reach your mom, she grabs your arms and put you right before one of your aunt, the conversation quickly drift to you.

"So ? What do you do now ? How's your new school ? Did you make any friends ? your aunt asks.

You reminded her that you were now in University and not in middle school in a teasing tone, to what she gasped before asking you your age and proceeding to moan about how time flies.

-Last time I saw you you were still so small !

-Show them the picture you have with your friends." your mom almost order you. By her tone and eagerness, you couldn't tell if it was pride of what her child has became, or fear of judgement from the others. As if they were going to shame her for having a kid who did nothing with their life, scared of them thinking you were a loser.

You take out your phone, scroll in your gallery to find the group photo of you and your friends. Your smiles are fake and awkward because the teacher is the one taking the picture. A few months ago, all of you handed a quite big model of the building for a homework, you honestly chose the University's building by lack of better idea. But your teacher was delighted, to everyone's surprise.

He insisted on taking a picture of you all with it to mark this moment forever, congratulating you and complimenting your skills and everything. Did you deserve all this ? No. Did you complaint ? Neither.

Your aunt seems to light up at the mere idea of you having friends, and showing her. It probably makes her feel part of your life. One by one, you present her your friends. Throwing a few anecdotes here and here. She tells you who she thinks is the meanest, the kindest, the prettiest.

Finally, everyone was presented. Smiling lightly, she tells you that she's proud you're working that hard and you turn off the phone. You wanted to leave and grab something to drink when your aunt seize your arm with a frown.

-Where do you think you're going ?

Damn, what is it this time ?

-I don't think I met everyone. Come back here.

The woman practically forces you to turn on your phone once more to show her the picture. You don't outright understand what's the matter as everyone was already introduced, it's when she uses her pointer to show you someone that it clicks.

-And who are those men ? And this girl ? What are you hiding ?

-This photo was taken a while back now, my friends and I don't really talk much to them anymore.

Her eyes glint with a funny mischievous light when problems are mentioned. She slaps kindly your arms, pushing you to tell her everything. You laugh.

-The one with the sleeveless shirt is Chad, the girl next to him is Mindy, they're siblings. The guy all to the left and next to me is Ethan.

-What happened ? They all seem nice !

Well, they are in a way. It's just stupid disputes that destroyed everything. Chad tried flirting with one of your friends, it did not lead to anything as he suddenly went with a certain Tara. When he was faced with the problems he created himself, he said that flirting wasn't equal to a relationship, that he owed you guys nothing.

Your friend was hurt, Mindy wanted to comfort her but, well, she's good friend with Tara and she's Chad's sister so it was complicated. You still talk occasionally with Mindy by the way, she was really nice and never did anything against you. It's just awkward now. But it's not her fault.

So yeah, you stopped hanging out together.

Your aunt was nodding throughout your story, listening carefully, sometimes throwing in some anecdotes of her, sometimes giving her opinion on the matter.

-And the other one ? she asks and for a moment you're confused who she's talking about until she points her interest on your phone.

Right, Landry. You completely forgot about him. He's on the picture since he was working with you as well but to be honest, you're not really close.

He's the only one who stayed with you despite the whole flirting argument. According to him, he likes both groups and is close to both side and it's okay, he's not the one who cheated on someone. But, yeah, it's strange.

No, scratch that, not it, he's strange.

He's in love with one of your friend. Well, you think he is anyway. They're often talking, on the phone and outside. He's always taking part in your group hangouts, buying foods, cinema ticket to whoever forgot money. You could've liked him if he talked to you, because he never.

Every time, and it's not even exaggerated, literally every time, you are all together, Ethan does not glance your way. Even for a second, you could talk to him and he'd answer with short words in a curt tone without looking at you to your face !

And you asked everyone, you're the only one with whom he acts this way.

While he's all lovey dovey with your closest friend. Closest not because you rate your group of friend, that'd be mean, but because you've known her for the longest time. He's following her, she's always the one to bring him to your parties and he'd mostly talk to her. Damn, you're a group, if he doesn't like you what the hell is he still doing here ?

Plus, your friend always talk your ear off about him, how he's so sweet, cute, smart and whatever. Sometimes you feel like she's trying to sell him to you the same way blender or vacuum cleaner are sold on TV.

Anyway, Ethan's weird and he's not your friend.

You simply told your aunt he was the boyfriend of one of your friend, that is partially false as he probably has a huge crush on her, to which she smiled and finally let you go.

You like your family, but you don't feel like telling this all over again to everyone here.

You spent the whole evening chatting with the kids and taking news out of the oldest. Them, on the other hand, kept asking you about a potential partner, school, grades and future. It was tiring but in the middle of it all were laughs, tears and anecdotes you would never forget.

The night has long arrived when everyone start talking about a children Christmas's show happening in town. From what you understood, there would be giant muppet. Some were reluctant because of the driving time and the sun setting but the kids were now overexcited at the idea of seeing muppet dancing.

Honestly, you didn't want to go but they've decided to go out all together now, you didn't have much say in it. Even if you hoped you wouldn't leave the house for tonight.

You weren't feeling it, already tired from the trip and the day. You lied about having a bad headache to stay in. You could rest and enjoy that big house all to yourself that way.

It was hard to survive the strongly disapproving stare of your mother and her dark look but you made it ! You still don't know how, usually, your mom is quite severe on the whole family reunion and she wants you to be there all the time, something about you being disrespectful.

She tells you not to get used to it but while leaving, you hear the others tell her that since your car can't drive because of its tire, there wouldn't have any seat left for you anyway. To what some answer that there'll always be a place for everyone (but you chose to ignore that). Just your luck ! Maybe the world doesn't hate you. This flat tire reveals itself to be a gift.

Slowly but surely, the house empty itself. Each member of the family zip their warm jacket to the very top, preventing the smallest wind to pass through. Your aunt, the owner of the house, comes talk to you with a smile.

"You're not gonna try and sneak your lover in, do you ?

You laugh nervously, still not used to this kind of attention. No, auntie, don't you worry. It's not like you have someone in your life. You assure her that no, you won't sneak anyone in here. Plus, it's kind of gross to do dirty things in the family house but you did not tell her that.

She kisses your cheek, zip her jacket as well and leave the house. Standing before the window, you wave at everyone entering the multiple cars. A few minutes later, the vehicles are gone, only the tire's marks on the frosted dirt are left. You sigh, listening to the quiet wind outside the house, feeling safer than ever.

Finally, peace.

No children running, no parents yelling, no messy conversation screamed; just silence. You can breath and hear yourself think. Without the agitation of everyone, you truly feel the cool atmosphere of the house for the first time.

Should you light the chimney ? Not now, it's not that cold yet. You have time. You smile thinking about it. Yes, you have time ! In fact, you have the whole rest of the evening just for you ! Beaming, you run to your room to change in comfortable pajamas.

Your aunt probably has food in her kitchen but even though she's family, you're uncomfortable at the idea of taking stuff from her without asking. So you grabbed your own snacks. It's weird considering she always offer you to eat all you want.

When in underwear, you think that a good bath would actually be better than just changing into other clothes. And that's what you did, you turned on the water, put your music as loud as you could and slide in the bathtub, enjoying the warm water in these freezing days.

A good hour has gone since everyone had left, silence filled your ears. You were fully ready to sleep in your bed and rest. Well, that was your plan anyway until something crashed into the house startling you like never.

You curse, trying to ease your speeding heart. What the hell ? The sound came from above and then it was just next to you. Did something fall from the roof ? The sound crossed the house !

Of course, with a sound so precise, you immediately thought of the chimney. Did something just fall from it ? Like a tile or something bigger ? A brick, or more ?

Well, you're a little too old to believe in Santa Claus by now, but uh, you're not dreaming, right ? Okay, it's late, you're alone, it's creepy but that sound was probably from animals outside or decoration falling ? Plus, that house's old, it creaks sometimes. It's nothing, right ? Okay, it's clearly not creaking sounds but still.

You wait as still as a statue, contemplating your options. It's nothing, probably, as no sound can be heard anymore. So yeah, a brick that is.

Why does this kind of shit has to happen to you when you're alone ? Your whole family was literally here one hour ago ! You wouldn't be so paranoid if they were still with you !

Slowly but surely, taking your sweet time to get down each steps, you feel your phone vibrating in your hand in the process but aren't interested enough to look at it, eyes boring hole around you.

But when you set foot in the main room, you're terrified to discover ashes scattered on the ground from the chimney and further away in the room, reaching the kitchen, like something had spread them, leaving some kind of footprints. It wasn't human foot shape, fortunately, but it wasn't any animal's paw shape either.

What the fuck ?

Something entered ? What the hell ? How did it even went in the chimney in the first place ? Okay, you're creeped out now. Only, there's no sound in the house. It does not help you feel better, you have no idea if an animal's here with you, and if it's an animal, what kind ? It has to be heavy to do such a sound when falling and trailing that much ashes, on the other hand, it is able to climb a roof, apparently. You dearly hope it's not a bear, well, it's hard for a bear to enter by a chimney but, you know.

Quietly, you get out of the house without even bothering to take a jacket with you. There is absolutely no way you are staying in this haunted ass house. Alone in the snow outside, your eyes are fixated to the windows to search any kind of suspect movements, there's none.

You are absolutely freezing when you take out your phone to dial your aunt number. You need to ask her if there's any weird animals lurking in the area.

But of course, now that you're outside, there's no internet. Okay, you have to go back inside. It's okay, it's probably a bear, yeah, a baby bear. All cute and soft.

But the more you think about it, less you're convinced it's an animal.

Because how the fuck would it be able to go on the roof ! You saw videos on internet showing bears opening doors, it's quite impressive actually, but rooftop ? No, if one of them wanted to enter, they would have passed by the garage or one of the numerous doors of the house, not the damn chimney.

Is Santa Claus going to kill you ? That's the worst death ever.

Freezing your ass off outside, you decide to stay on the terrace right before the front door to get internet without needing to enter. But of course it doesn't work, it's like the lines are cut. Plus, you were scared whatever was inside would be able to punch through the window to grab you, but it's the numerous horror movie you saw talking.

You honestly have no idea what's safer; staying outside in the cold or staying inside with the intruder.

If the phone don't work, you at least need to join your family in town. You don't remember correctly where is it but there's literally one single straight road so you can definitely manage. Looking over your shoulder, your eyes lay on the broken car in the alley.

Yes, one of the tire is flat but it still is able to drive, right ? You don't have any choice anyway. The closest city is something like thirty minutes in car away, so at foot ? Probably one hour. And without jacket in such an angry wind ? No, certainly not. You just need to get the key and you get out, simple.

They key, which is inside.

Okay, okay, you can do this. The key is directly to the left of the entrance, it's easy. You breath, hyping yourself up before you push the door open. It's creaking, your heart beats faster, but there is no sign of anyone having heard you. It could have tricked you into believing you imagined everything but the heavy ashes footstep are very well present.

Keeping your eyes on the house, trying to hold the perimeters safe and assuring nothing would come towards you, you throw your hand on the furniture supposed to held the key without looking at it. The door is still open wide behind you and you'd rather die than to close it even if it meant you were risking to catch a really bad cold for the rest of the holidays.

Only, after a few minutes, indicated by the stinging of your eyes after not blinking for so long, your hand remains empty. A quick glance to the furniture's way confirms you the worst: the keys are missing.

Of course, nothing's easy. Your mom probably took them to her room, to your despair. On the other hand, there's still no sound in the house, except for the strong wind coming from the open door behind you, which makes you cringe. If someone's here, the noise is definitely going to attract them to you. Though, you still don't want to close it.

What if it's a burglar ? What if they are burglars ? You pray it's not a group, hell, you hope no one's here ! But if you have to choose between being mugged by one or multiple people, the choice is already done.

Backing slowly, you start feeling watched and fear whatever's inside might come get you by behind thanks to the back door. You have to hurry, you go upstairs, you take the keys and you bolt outside. Yeah, it's easy, it's an easy plan.

Do you run ? It'll be quicker but you might be heard. Shit shit, what are you supposed to do ? You can't even pinpoint in which room, which area of the house the intruder is ! With your luck, you'll stumble on them in the hallway or even your bedroom.

You won't run, you're too terrified to do any sound. Removing your shoes, you put them between the wall and the door in order to block it if it ever comes to close while you weren't there. There's multiple carpet, your socks won't do too much sound and if you're too scared to put the shoes back when leaving you can still drive in socks, dangerous but you'll deal with that later.

One step at a time, you approach the creaking stairs, ears ready to isolate the slightest sound that could signify a presence near or far from you.

You would have much rather not use these stairs but they're the only way upstairs, even if they're noisy.

The first step is silent, just like the second and third, however, your weight on the next ones cause them to cry, making you wince and stop in your track. In total, this staircase is composed of fifteen steps. You know it, you've counted everything at least once here.

Fuck it, you already made too much noises. Whoever's here know damn well your position. Taking a big breath, you suddenly sprint every stairs, each one creaking in the process, not talking about the sound of your feet heavily hitting the wood. Stopping wasn't an option anymore, not being deterred, your legs finally bring you to your room where you lock yourself in, shutting the door with every locks available.

You sigh, falling to the ground and grabbing your shirt where your heart is. Your head is buzzing, your ears are ringing and your body screaming for help, everything is too hot for you, you can't think but you know it's not the end, you can't rest now.

So you get up and head as quietly as possible to the different furniture of the room. In your head, your pray that the intruder can't tell in which room you went. It's not long before you find the keys, your mum placed them beside your bag. And now ? It was a real trial having to come up here, and now you have to confront it all over again to go down ?

Okay, you're not mentally ready yet, you at least need to protect your back. You grab your phone, now having internet, and lowering the light as much as you can, you go to your socials to text someone.

You can't call the cops by yourself, it could mean talking and you can't allow that right now. However, your different social media won't even load. You're pretty sure a number for deaf people exist, but can't recall what is it. You try to type it on internet, but the page doesn't load as well. Of course, you don't have 4G since you're the one paying your subscription, that thing's expensive. Now, though, you really hate yourself.

To get out of this, you spam your friends phone in order for them to answer to make them call the police for you, the few of them that gave your their phone number at least. While doing so, you notice that Ethan Landry sent you a message a few minutes ago but deleted it. Weird, but he is so no surprise.

You don't stop spamming everyone, friends or family, it doesn't matter. But of course, your mum and the other are busy feasting staring at the show in town.

When you finally get an answer five minutes later (the longest minutes of your entire life), you feel relief flood your body, only for it to disappear when the name displayed was not the one of your friend, but of someone completely different.

Ethan Landry. Again. You retain a snort. Of course, him of all people. He doesn't have any damn social life, it's obvious he'd answer. He's typing, you wait impatiently for his message to be sent, it takes a few others seconds.

"Hey ^^" your screen displays. You want to explode your head on the nearest wall. Who's using those emojis ? "You're spending nice holidays ?" he adds.

What it that opening ? And why him ? Now ? He is not your friend, and isn't he busy ? Working too much for his class to stay the best of the best ? You don't want to talk to him. You're pensive, do you really have a choice in this situation ?

"I see you saw my message but haven't answered, are you ignoring me ?" And as if to light the mood of his already quite pitiful message, he sends you a small "lol".

No wonder he's still a virgin.

He's still online and you can't call anyone, if you talk, they're going to hear you. You don't like him but if he's the only one responding right now, you won't miss this chance. Just as you came to this conclusion, a noise of something falling echo through the house. You almost died on the spot, your heart not designed for this type of scare. Slowly, you hide under the bed, the huge blanket falling from both side of it protecting you from outsider's sight.

"Call copsfor me send them to m yaddress I beg you." you sent him, with a few mistakes as you're shaking, rushed and not watching the screen as you type. When sending him your address though, you watched cautiously the screen, feared he might send the cops somewhere else. To briefly explain him the situation, you sent him one simple word; intruder.

"Oh shit." he says and you never hated him more than right now. Why was this stupid idiot still typing when he should be calling the police ! Doesn't he understand the problem ? You really can't count on him.

He's stupid, you think. You have the keys now, that's all that matter. All is left to do is for you to bolt down to the car and leave. Steadying your breathing, you slide from under the bed, holding tightly the keys in your closed hand. You stand, walking towards the door; no sounds.

With a shaky hand, you grab the handle and open the door. Not getting out instantly, you're careful to check every corner of the hallway before leaving. You know how it is in horror movie, the protagonist often dies right before they can escape. You are not risking it. Your device is vibrating in your pocket, it's probably him again.

Reaching the main stairs, you put your foot in the air, ready to place it on the first step when your breath get stuck in your throat by the vision in front of you.

The main door is closed.

A cold chill run down your spine, raising up each one of your body hair. Why is it closed ? You specifically put your shoes between the door and the wall, preventing it from closing. And in the worst case, if the wind or the force of the heavy door still close, it would slam and alert you. But it didn't. How it is closed ?

You look around the room, not daring move anymore until you finally understand what happened. You're able to see both of your shoes, delicately placed side by side outside, on the freezing terrace. Someone moved them. Someone fucking took your shoes and deliberately put them outside, right in front of the window for you to see. If that's not provocation you have no idea what that is.

Either way, you are not trying to open it. Something is telling you it's completely locked. The wind is growing up by seconds, snowflakes flying everywhere. Fuck, it wasn't snowing earlier, you need to get out of here before you're completely stuck inside. That was your plan before you heard the back door downstairs shut and the dangling of keys, anyways.

Not waiting anymore, you get back to the safety of your room.

You can't calm yourself, you heard keys ! The intruder has keys and is locking you two together ! Shit, shit shit what do you do ? You have to get out of here, quickly before it's too late. If you end up completely locked up, all would be left to do for the intruder is to simply visit the different room until you're dead.

Think, think, how can you escape ? Your eyes end up on the window which you rush to. Opening it, the freezing air outside penetrate the room, slapping you in the face with it's now pouring snow.

You're something like 10 meters/32 inches up from the ground. It does not sound like a good idea to jump from here but do you really have a choice here ? Maybe you can wait a little until the snow reach a good height, so falling in it won't hurt.

No, the negative temperature and extreme weather would cause you to die of hypothermia. You close the window, still keeping the idea somewhere in the corner of your mind. You won't jump now, but if things get too complicated, you are not hesitating.

Maybe you can keep it a tad open, just in case. So you don't have to struggle to open it. You regret not having tried to open the main door earlier, sure the shoes were put away but maybe it wasn't really locked. You thought so but your fear were really what was driving your mind at the moment, you have to try.

There is this old broken glass clock on the wall, you could use it as a weapon. If the intruder comes at you, you explode the glass on their head. You cheer yourself up, stretching your limbs. You can still run if you can't fight.

You can do this, you can do this.

You still didn't encounter anyone after all, maybe you're fine. Standing up, a new found determination filling you, you head to the door. You try to think of a better plan but options are not running to you. It's not like you have a better choice.

You lay your hand on the handle, ready to fight your fears but you stop in your track when light musical notes start invading the silence of the house. You're confused, frowning your brows, you try to think of any reason for it to happen.

There's music coming from downstairs and that's when you know you're done for. Someone's here and is definitely toying with you. By music, it's not even a scary song with lyrics to help you understand what's going to happen to you, or a creepy music deepening the tense atmosphere, oh no. It's Michael Bublé singing his dumb 'It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas'.

Great, perfect, a festive music for a festive death, right ? Are you going to get killed on rhythm of it, too ? For a moment, you thought about it being a whole joke from one of your cousin, but it would be too elaborated. The best jokes are the shortest, and this one's endless.

Not having anything better to do, you hide once again under the bed and turn on your phone. Ethan sent you a message earlier but you did not look at it. You frown upon seeing it.

"Can I tell you something ? It's a secret tho. I'm a little ashamed of it."

Does he really fucking think it's the perfect moment for him to confide his secret to you ? "Police" you simply send him, wanting to remind him of the goal of this conversation, hoping he'd understand. After all, he did not even confirmed having called anyone.

But he never answers your reminder and instead send you a photo. It's blurry and at first you don't understand what it is until you recognize the house, your aunt's house. The house you're currently in. It's a picture of you from earlier, when you first went outside after discovering the ashes everywhere. You're outside, before the window, checking your phone while hugging yourself to try and protect you from the cold.

"Where are you ? I want to talk to you." he sends right after.

Your blood runs cold, suddenly the painful and awkward position you're in doesn't bother you much anymore. Ethan Landry, took a picture of you here. Ethan Landry is here, right now. What's happening ?

"We need to talk." he insists.

Is that man the one who entered by the chimney ? Is he the intruder ? You're not typing anything and it must stress him as he adds a stupid "Please answer". How did he even know you were here ? Did he follow you ? How ?

"What do you want" you typed, wanting to know why he was here. You were desperate for answer, you never talked to this guy, he never talked to you ! What does he want now ? Is it linked with your friend ? Did she ditch him ? Maybe she did, and he thinks it's your fault.

But against all odd, it's not at all the answer gives you.

"It's about us."

What ? What 'us' ? What is he talking about ? "Us" as in you and him or "us" as in him and the whole group ? Because either way, you have no idea what he wants. And even if you did, you doubt there's a problem big enough that requires him to fucking break into your house.

"I have a gift for you as well." No, it does not sound good at all. You keep spamming your friends, begging them to answer. You're telling them you're hiding under your bed and that they need to call the police right now or you'll end up dead. At one point, you start to write another message to your friend when you receive a notification from Ethan.

"They won't answer." he says. And for a second, you dare think that he may be connected to your phone. But you quickly push that thought aside, only for it to come back as fast when you're typing "Ethan s insde my hhouse" and "Don't do that" is sent to you before you press send.

He's bluffing, you're sure. You send your message anyway, if you die, at least they'll know. However, to confirm your doubts, you write two question marks in the blank space to check if he's able to see them. To your horror, Ethan sends you two question marks as well.

It's just a coincidence. It has to be anyway because that'd mean Ethan knows where you are. Who are you kidding ? He knew from the very start where you were. He's just tormenting you. Testing yet again, you type "what" in the chat space, and of course Landry sends you "What what ?".

That's it, he has access to your phone. Your body is boiling from the inside, nothing makes sense anymore. How did he hack into your phone ? Why and when ? Since when ? You swipe the notification away from the screen and turn your phone off. Laying it beside you, waiting for another person to answer.

He planned everything, controlling your phone, following you, getting you alone and vulnerable.

It's probably time for you to use the window. You have the keys after all. You'll jump. Get to your car or something. Besides, maybe you won't break your ankle. maybe you'll be able to escape, run in the forest and found a shelter somewhere, wait until the weather is good enough to come back and find your family.

Maybe you'll fall, break something and wake up only to realize that it was all a dream, that you're safe and sound. Ethan did nothing, he is still the weirdo from your class, flirting with your friend and you'll spend a beautiful Christmas with your family.

Your body start to move in order to leave your hiding spot, but each one of your muscle stops dead when slow and steady footsteps are heard in the hallway, and seconds later, the door of the room creaks open. And then you remember with horror that Ethan found the keys, and that locking the door won't protect you.

He knows you're here. You try to recall everything you did that could've hurt him, if one day you insulted him, mocked him but nothing. Why, why is he doing this to you ? Tears fill up your eyes, but you have to dry them. If you have to escape, you need to have hundred percent of your vision. Fleeing with blurry eyes will slow you down.

Ethan doesn't budge. You're too scared to change position and see where he is, but he sounds like he is at the end of the end. You probably could've saw his feet if you tried, but you didn't want to.

Your phone stirs, reporting a new notification. You know who that comes from already. Every muscle in you is tensed, refusing to move. But he waits for you to do so. So you turn it on, checking his message.

He sent you another picture, one which absolutely freeze you from head to toe. It's a photo where only a bed is visible, the exact one serving you as hiding spot. What's horrifying however, is that a large knife is displayed on it, along with a printed photo of you two. You recognize this cursed picture, the one your teacher took of you with the model.

He cut out everyone else, only you two are left. It's the only photo you have of him, and it's probably the same for him, the only picture he has of you. You're never beside each other after all.

You don't give a fuck about the photo, he has a knife. You're alone together in a room and he has a knife.

"Are you mad at me ?" he texts but you can't do anything except try to keep your cries quiet. You knew he was weird, but fuck ! Not that weird !

You hear him chuckle, and seconds after the ruffle of his clothes alarms you. What is he doing ? He's moving, but why ? You don't know what he's doing until his hand firmly close around your ankle and pull you out of under the bed, you scream, try to fight back, throw your legs at his face but you can't even see it; he wears a mask.

Not only a mask, in fact, he is completely disguised.

Window is all you can think. You have to jump out of the window. Never slackening your attacks, you finally inflict him pain, his mask twisting on the side in the process. He falls on his back, holding his, likely, jaw.

You are not waiting for him to get over it as you jump on the bed, slide and grab the open window. You pull it wider and leap head first. You did not think this through, only acting out of pure survival. But at the same time, maybe you would've done the same thing, choosing between breaking your legs or arms, in this situation, you'd chose to break your arms.

But Ethan is as determined as you, before your body can completely fall, he grabs both of your tibias with strong hands. Blood is already falling to your head, you feel it heat up despite the freezing atmosphere.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing ?" yell the man holding you.

Hanging upside down, only held by the legs by a crazy man clearly wasn't part of your Christmas plan. You wiggle your body, trying to make him let go or at least slip out of his grip but you never saw someone as mad as Ethan. You lay your hands flat on the outside wall before you, outstretching your arms to grab something allowing you to fall, to pull yourself down but it's no use.

You already feel yourself being lift up. Slowly, Ethan's hand pull you up, leaving your ankles to grab just below your knees. One of your foot hit his face but he never relents. You yell in the wind for the world to hear, you struggle, fight but Ethan's something else. Ethan won't let you go.

The more he pulls you up, the more his hand grabs of you. While your feet are back inside, your hands never let go of the window border, refusing categorically to let him engulf you inside. You don't stop yelling at him to let you go but you quiet down a second when two other person enter your vision, both in the same disguise as Ethan.

They're outside, braving the harsh snow, just below the window. Exactly where you would have fallen if Landry didn't grabbed you. The smaller of them has a sign in hand, and when you read what's on it, you think you should have jumped and killed yourself.

"Merry Christmas, in-law.

Welcome to the family"

[trivialbob]

Last night Sheila and I drove to a far suburb for a party at the house of some people we know. Because it was going to be late night and a bit of a drive, we got a hotel room. We hired a young woman in the neighborhood to stay overnight with our dogs.

The party was nice, but it's breakfast the next day that I want to write about.

The hotel provided the typical free breakfast. The little dining area was clean, the food was fresh, and the coffee hot and plentiful. But it's the same hotel breakfast we've had plenty of time. Lucky for us, across the parking lot was a family owned restaurant known for bakery and breakfast dishes.

We were seated promptly. Our timing was excellent, because a small line soon formed at the waiting area by the front door.

This is one of those places where the servers, like the hash browns, are well seasoned. These competent women were really good, even the youngest one. How do they hire someone new who seemingly has five years of experience already working in that very same restaurant?

Even though a single server was assigned to our table, every other time a different one walked by she'd check on us. It's quite possible I could have had a refill of hot coffee after every three sips. I didn't need that much coffee, so I declined. Had I dropped a fork it likely wouldn't have hit the floor, as one of those servers would have caught it and had a new one in my hand before I knew it.

If the tables were nucleui in atoms, the bus boy was an electron, constantly moving around them. When his hands were full the servers grabbed what they could to help out.

We could see plates coming out of the kitchen. I ordered corned beef hash, but with each plate for other people I observed I second guessed my choice. Until I got my corned beef hash.

There was a lot of food. It was another instance where Sheila and I should have split a meal. I devoured my hash and eggs. A piece of toast the size of a license plate covered half my plate. When I moved it I found another helping of hash!

Sheila ordered her favorite breakfast, eggs Benedict. Most of it came home for lunch or dinner.

Nothing made us feel rushed. The employees simply do their best to not waste a nanosecond of anyone's time. Turnover is swift. It's not unlike fast forwarding through TV commercials. No need for that fluff, just get to the meat and potatoes of the program.

Payment is at the front counter. There's none of that song and dance about here's the check, come back, grab a card, bring it back with a receipt, sign the check, put card away.

When we returned after being away 21 hours the dogs acted like they'd been in solitary confinement for a year. I am absolutely certain the woman who watched them did a good job. The dogs are just drama queens.

[hinatastinygiant]

1 | Haze

Pairing: Kaminari x Fem!Reader

Null & Void

The prison cell door buzzes open, breathing the silence that had become all too familiar. The sounds of boots echo through the hall as a guard hands over a pile of neatly folded clothes. The fresh fabric against your skin feels so good, like a calming reminder that you're no longer confined in that wretched place. Squinting your eyes against the bright sun, you sigh, taking in the freedom that surrounds you. Now what?

"Y/N!" a sudden familiar voice cuts out through the air. You look over to see your friend, Kendo, running toward you with a genuine smile on her face. Her hug is warm, and it makes you feel loved. She's the only person to hug you since the incident, and you feel yourself melting into the touch. "I'm so happy you're finally out. How have you been?"

Your reply is quite simple. "I need a shower."

"Oh, right," she grins as she guides you toward her car. "You can stay with me at the shop for a while. Shower isn't great, but it works."

"Thanks," you reply as you open the passenger door and step inside.

The car ride is silent. You have nothing to say to her yet, you don't even know how she feels about you right now. She never came to visit the prison and you sure as hell didn't have enough money to be making any calls that would be long enough to explain what had happened.

"I'm trying to think," she hums, finally breaking the silence as she travels along the once-familiar roads. God, one thing that hasn't changed is how shitty everything looks. Of course you had to be the small part of the population that didn't have any quirks or, really, means to defend yourself. "Not much has changed around here..."

Not much? you think to yourself as she takes a left turn that causes your heart to drop into your stomach. It's all changed.

"Sorry," she mutters, the car seeming to slow down as she drives her crappy car down the one road you wish she wouldn't.

Your neighborhood has indeed shifted, forcing you to catch up with a world that has moved on without you. Passing the remnants of your burned-down home, the painful reminder of your past, doesn't help much either. Your body aches as you catch sight of two teenagers graffiti the wall, leaving their own mark of destruction and chaos. The car speeds up, the tires squealing a bit as they take another left turn.

"It's okay," you reassure her, looking down at your lap.

"So, uh, did you make any friends while you were away?" she asks as though you had spent a year frolicking in faction two with all of the climate guardians.

"A few," you mutter, "but they're serving longer sentences so it doesn't quite matter. Oh, that reminds me, my parole officer is going to check in on me so I'm going to have to give her your address."

"Sure thing," she smiles softly as she parks the car outside of the small shop she calls home. She then reaches into the glovebox, grabs a small piece of paper and a pen, and jots down her address before handing it to you. "Here you go, I'm sure you don't think about address while you're-"

"Thanks," you mutter, getting out of the car and grabbing your bag.

"Oh," she says, popping the trunk and pulling out a few bags. "I got you some food and a few necessities." You can tell she has no idea how to handle your return. Why is she even letting you stay with her if she's this confused? "Come on, let's go around back."

Kendo guides you to the back entrance of the small building where she lives. She sets down her bags for a moment as she searches her pockets for her key and unlocks the door. You then reach for one of the bags she had set down.

"Thank you," you mutter as she opens the door and walks inside. You follow her past the first door and watch as she unlocks the one on the left. When it's open, she ushers you inside and sets the bag down on the bed. It's just enough space for the bed, nightstand, and plant, but it's nice. It's a room that you can call your own and not a cage with a cot.

"This room is yours," she tells you as she grabs the bag you had been carrying and places it beside the other. "Bathroom is attached on the right. I'm going to make us something to eat but shout if you need me, okay?"

"Sure, thanks," you nod as she walks out. You then enjoy the otherwise mediocre shower and dress in the clothes she had purchased. A simple shirt and jeans.

After the shower, you walk into the somehow even smaller-than-you-remember kitchen to see her standing over the stove. A delicious aroma fills the air. When she sees you, a small smile appears on her face.

"Have a seat," she nods toward the small table that looks as though it has seen better days.

You do so, watching as she pulls the pot off the heat and serves up two bowls of tomato soup. As you take your first sip, you begin to feel incredibly guilty for not clueing her in sooner. But just as you part your lips to explain, she speaks first.

"Hey, do you want to do anything this afternoon?" she asks rather cheerfully, catching you off guard.

"What?"

"I closed the shop for the day. I thought maybe we could spend some time together," she replies with a warm smile.

"You're being very... nice," you admit, a bit thrown off by her kindness. "But I think I'd rather just get some rest."

"Oh, yeah, of course," she shakes her head as though getting rid of some daydream where the two of you gossiped about crushes or something. She then rises to her feet and collects the dirty dishes before setting them in the sink. "I'll be here if you need anything."

Part of you wishes you would just call out to her and explain, but another part is thankful you haven't. You don't have the energy to talk about the details, and she probably wouldn't understand. Not yet, at least.

∿*̩̣‧̩̣₊̣‧̩̣*̩̣𐦍*̩̣‧̩̣₊̣‧̩̣*̩̣∿

"Please!" you cry, the words ripping from your throat in a desperate plea that echoes throughout the courtroom.

You always used to hate when your father would bring you along with him to work, especially when he'd make you tag along at some poor soul's trial. Except this time is worse, painfully worse. You're all alone, tears streaming down your face as you sit, overwhelmed by the accusations that have shattered your world. You didn't kill them.

Satou, your father's partner, places a gentle hand on your shoulder, attempting to offer you comfort, but you simply shrug him off. What use is he now in front of the Home Secretary and a jury of citizens that'll do anything to get a murderer behind bars?

But you can't help it. The grief is too strong and the wounds are way too fresh.

Monoma, that idiotic prosecutor who most likely has way better things to do than personally sentence you to jail, stands before the jury and clears his throat. "This woman," he summarizes just before they are ready to make their decision, "has killed her own father, her own mother, and her own little sister by arson. Fingerprint samples have been collected, and the evidence shows she was the only one who had touched those fuel canisters. I urge you, if there is no doubt in your mind that this woman, clearly hellbent on the destruction of our world, was ended the lives of her own flesh and blood, to find her guilty!"

Murmurs spread around the room. You can feel all eyes on you, but you don't bother looking up from the hands on your lap.

"I didn't..." you whimper, feeling so small.

"You'll be alright," Satou tries to comfort, but it only makes you more emotional.

"I didn't..."

Before you know it, the judge is looking over at the foreman and asking for a decision from the juror. As the foreman stands, his face stern and unwavering, his decision is announced: guilty.

The gavel sounds and a few people rise to their feet, clapping and cheering.

The weight of their judgment feels like a brick hitting your chest. Seven years in prison - a sentence that feels like an eternity. The grief, disbelief, and crushing weight of guilt bear down on you as the reality of your new life sinks in. The courtroom falls into an eerie silence as you're forced into shackles and taken out of the room.

Just as the door is held open for you, your eyes meet with Kendo's. Your best friend, once the one you'd go to for anything, looks at you as if she truly believed everything Monoma said. Of course that asshole was very convincing, but couldn't she tell when her best friend was being falsely accused of murder? She knew how much you loved your family, even though you didn't always have the same views as they did. You'd never kill them.

∿*̩̣‧̩̣₊̣‧̩̣*̩̣𐦍*̩̣‧̩̣₊̣‧̩̣*̩̣∿

A moment later, you wake up in a cold sweat with your heart pounding from the lingering weight of the nightmare that dragged you into a world of the past. As you pull the blanket closer to your chest and look around the dimly lit room, you sigh, knowing the only way to feel better is to talk with Kendo.

Except now it's the middle of the night as you slide out of bed and leave your room. Outside, the night air feels cool on your skin as you sit down on the small porch. You sigh as the weight of the past, the trial, and the sentence pressed on your mind. But just as the silence threatens to swallow you whole, Kendo emerges from the shadows and sits down beside you.

Her presence is comforting, like it always was. Silently, she passes you a cup of warm tea, a gesture that speaks volumes. She then pulls a cigarette from her pocket and lights it. You watch, waiting to see what her reaction will be as the smoke drifts through the air. She takes a long drag, then exhales.

Kendo knows you don't want to talk about it, understands the wounds are still too raw. Yet, you both know that there will come a time when the truth needs to be shared.

The steam from the tea swirls in the night air as she speaks softly. "I know it's not easy, and I won't push, but when you're ready, I'm here to listen. To share the burden, whatever it may be. Shaving six years off your sentence is no joke."

"I know," you nod and take a sip. The warm liquid is soothing as you swallow. The silence returns, but the weight of the past has dissipated. 

Null & Void

[dabadoowop]

What a lovely little town!

(notes at the end)

It’s truly a nice little town! It just happens to look scary to the outsiders. And I guess you really can’t blame them if they’re apprehensive about the thick fog that comes from seemingly nowhere, or the deep forest that encircles the town!

Other than that, it’s really just your average town, if a bit small. The population caps at about 2,000, and every family knows each other. There are also some magnificent places to visit! There’s the magical library where the knowledge will never leave you, the café with otherworldly brews, and other things that a town would have!

And, really, you can ignore the ghost stories! Sure, the inn always has a cold draft about it, and maybe the graveyard hasn’t changed in decades, but do you really believe scary tales? Of course not! Everyone knows that your spirit stays in the ground when you die.

Truly, it’s a picturesque little place. No one ever wants to leave! It’s atmospheric. With the lush grass that somehow stays green year long, and the trees that sprout larger-than-normal apples, why would you ever want to go anywhere else? As long as you stay within the confines of the forest, it really is quite nice!

Anyone from anywhere is welcome; if you come from the depths of the ocean, the aquarium is perfect for you! If you’re from the dark forests, the wooded area around the town is the best place to dwell during the full moon! And if you’re used to staying in during the day, the town has a truly magnificent night-life!

It’s also a wonderful place to raise a family! The Academy is a fairly prestigious place to get an education. Why, any sort of little critters can excel there! There’s also the park, which is a great place to go for a family outing. You can even go out into the woods, though be warned, poaching bats isn’t allowed: wouldn’t want to shoot one of your neighbors!

The weather is also very delightful this time of year! In fact, any time of year is the best time of year to get an elixir from any of the charming restaurants! It never snows, either; it’s amazing what you can do with so many alchemists in town!

All in all, I’d say that it’s a quaint little town, with so many wondrous opportunities! So, please, consider moving to the magical town of Ȁ̸͓͕̽̉Ƨ̴̜̠͓͛͗̏̊̆T̶̢̼̋̽Ǝ̷̧͔̱̩̭̈́͒̋͐͝Я̶̬̃Į̶̰̳̖͌͑Ȧ̸̚ !

notes: umm i wrote this at school on a google doc because i’ve been trying to get into writing lately. i know it’s not that long but i’m pretty proud of it. i wanted it to be like a description or advertisement of a town that seemed a little bit off, and it’s supposed to be a monster town, and the reader is like a human who stumbled upon it. constructive criticism is welcome but dont be too mean :)

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 55: History Lessons & Arcane Confessions

SUNDAY - WINTER 7 

He felt better.

And not only because Dr. Harvey had finally declared his fingers and hand fully healed—the doctor had been most pleased at his body’s progress. His mind’s, however… well, still not 100%. But at this rate, Achilles didn’t know when he’d ever feel 100% ever again, so he might as well start learning how to live at 40%. 

That being said, there were only a few choice people he felt he could currently bare to be around. He hadn’t the energy for either idle chatter or for powering his poker face, and mercifully, it was Caroline who was manning the register at Pierre’s today, rather than Abigail or the nosy proprietor himself. Rather than remark on his strange behavior the day of the ceremony, or on his recent absence from the general store, she merely handed him his post-jog tea and wished him a good day. 

Alex was in Zuzu, Elliott out of town, and Leah hard at work on an ice sculpture for tomorrow’s festival, but Achilles was determined to keep himself out from the quicksand confines of his house today, and so, with Elliott’s novel under his arm, he ventured to Pelican Park with a small bag of grapes and his third favorite pen. 

Luck (finally) continued to be on his side. Maru and Penny were the only ones out and about around town it seemed, and they too politely kept their noses out of his personal business when they ran into each other by the fountain. 

Penny thanked him for the books he had paid for to be bound—“The students were so excited!” —before adding a rather intriguing offer. “Have you ever considered teaching? Meridian Middle is always looking for substitute teachers, if you’re ever looking for something to do…”

He could feel Maru, perceptive at usual, taking note of the dark circles under his eyes, his dry skin, the cracked lips. But having more tact than likely many others in the town, the girl chose to nod at his beanie instead. “The temperature is forecasted to drop a bit more. You should check out the spa, it’s right by my place. It opened earlier this week for the first time in like thirty years—don’t worry, I tested the water, everything’s fine—but it’s really nice. Excellent if you need a place to relax and replenish…” 

A spa, huh? Didn’t sound like a bad idea. His gloves hadn’t been enough to ease the frost from his increasingly numb fingertips, and his handwriting was definitely getting sloppier by the second. He thanked the pair and, following their directions, made his way north. 

*****

Outside of his jogs, Achilles had visited the railroad perhaps only three times since moving to Stardew Valley. It seemed a strange place for a spa. Not that the train came through the Valley all too often, but he imagined that the rumbling and horns, even just twice a day, couldn’t be the most conducive to what should’ve been a relaxing environment. 

The creamy wooden facade of the building seemed an odd choice as well, a stark contrast to the angular tempered glass of the sauna visible at the back. Wooden stools had been placed within amidst large leafy plants. They looked alive and well—quite unusual, given the Winter season. 

Most mysterious.  

He passed a small water feature gurgling near the front—he could feel the heat of the water already—and padded softly through the front doors, unsure of what to expect.

No lobby. Not even a front desk, let alone a receptionist. Just an empty square of a room, tiled in seafoam green ceramic.

Most mysterious indeed. 

To the left, the women’s locker room. He headed for the swinging door on the right. 

More seafoam tiles. Very retro—Maru had said it hadn’t been open in three decades. That being said, the space seemed clean enough. A few mint colored towels had been set out, tightly rolled, next to the showers. There was even a small weight room in the back. 

The pages of Elliott’s novel were already beginning to curl in the growing humidity. Deciding that he’d finish reading later, he dropped the binder off in one of the lockers, all empty, except for one plastered with a few faded photos of bodybuilders. He followed the trail of stifling heat out to the spa. 

Like the rest of the space, it wasn’t anything fancy. Hell, Achilles’ tub at home was nicer than this electric blue tiled wasteland (seriously, between the trains and the color scheme, how in the world was this supposed to be a place to “relax?”). But the steam was seductive, and he found himself drawn deeper into the space. The pool was large, shaped almost like a wine glass, with a narrow stem connecting the larger half to the deep end at the other side of the room. 

Not having anticipated coming here, he hadn’t brought a change of clothes. That being said, it took only a few minutes of soaking his feet in the lightly perfumed waters before he stripped down to his underwear and immersed himself completely. How had he gone through life never knowing how to properly float? Thank goodness for Alex. 

Alex… 

Breathe in.

He closed his eyes.

Breathe out. 

He was in deep now. Yes. Very deep. He could tell by the little thrum in his chest, the flutter in his rapidly beating heart. 

Well. You ought to do something about it, then. 

That’s what the Achilles of yesteryear would do. Make a move. Or, at the very least, say something, instead of pining like a pathetic, hopeless romantic. Now that part of him believed that there could be chance, that he hadn’t imagined Spirit’s Eve… 

And even if the feelings weren’t reciprocated—well, he could at least say he tried. Had done everything that he could have. No regrets, right? What was the harm? Alex wouldn’t think of him any differently. He’d turn him down gently, he could picture it even now. 

Oh wow! Really? I’m really flattered, Ash. I just… I’m not attracted to guys. I’m really sorry. But I think you’re so cool, and I’m really glad we’re friends… 

He’d be wide-eyed and apologetic. He’d probably be biting his lip, futzing with his hair, tapping his foot… Achilles couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of it. 

But if his feelings were reciprocated… 

Oh. 

Was it possible for him to turn any redder in the sweltering heat of the spa? 

Oh, but was he even ready for something? Was it even fair to say anything, for either of them? He had no job, no goals, no plan. Where was he even going to be living next year? He could be back in Hyacinthia for all anyone knew… 

But what if he stayed? He had his farm, he could take Penny up on her offer, perhaps teach a bit at the middle school. And maybe… maybe he could write. 

Fat chance. You can barely string two words together these days. 

Such a quiet life it’d be, to stay in the Valley. Nothing like what he had always wanted for himself. The glitz and the glamor and the titles and awards and attention. 

If he stayed—even if Alex did want him—would it be enough? Would it ever be enough, or would he always be yearning for something more? 

You will never be content. 

*****

When he opened his eyes, there was nothing to see. Nothing to hear. Nothing to feel. No curls of steam or the gentle splash of the water. But there was a familiarity in the utter darkness, and so he was not afraid. 

“Rasmodius?” 

The lights flickered on. 

Still in the spa, he was. Thank Yoba for small favors, he wasn’t in the mood to go traipsing down a darkened tunnel to the Wizard’s supply closet. Then again, had he ever been in the mood… 

Standing across from him, pacing along the edge of the pool and still wearing his heavy black cloak, was Rasmodius. 

“Do you know what is so special about this spa?” Rasmodius’ voice, low and husky, echoed across the chamber. 

“No. I’m afraid I don’t.” 

“Nothing, now.” A bitter, empty bark of a laugh that Achilles did not return. “Nothing… just another keystone…” 

The Wizard paused his pacing to study Achilles’ stony visage through the steam. 

“You are angry with me.” 

“No.”

Like grudges, anger—pure anger, that is—was not an emotion Achilles often managed to hold on to for long. It had always burned too fiercely and too fast for him, and was usually more or less quick to settle somewhere between disgust and indifference. Nevertheless, as the syllable escaped his mouth, so too did the hollow of his apathy, to be replaced by a scarlet flash, sour in his throat like bile. 

“Actually, on second thought. Yes. Yes I am. Angry.” 

Under the milky water, his hands balled into fists, but he kept his voice steady even as his stomach churned in this sudden resurgence of rage, fueled all the more by Rasmodius’ dull-eyed, impassive stare.

He was just starting to feel like a person again, why did Rasmodius feel the need now, of all days, to disturb this fragile, newfound peace. 

“Do you remember the first day we met? Back in the Spring, after I found your scroll in the community center. You told me I had passed a test. And you said that… that maybe the Valley would need me.” God, the words sounded childish. Oh, you thought you were special? This was nothing but embarrassing.

But in his anger, he continued. 

“You were real cagey about it. Real wishy washy. Didn’t make any promises, no assurances—but it was whatever. I thought, you know, fine. Sure. Don’t think too much about it, Achilles. Find something else to occupy your time. Until a shadow brute in Sunspray Peak confirmed it. That I… that I was somehow… connected. To the mines. And to the fate of the Valley. 

“And so I brought it up to you. I wanted your wisdom, I wanted your help. But what did you do, Rasmodius? You told me to forget about it. You told me I was… useless. That I didn’t have a purpose here.” 

And that’s all you wanted, wasn’t it? A purpose. A reason why you should matter. 

“But I ended up in the mines, anyway, didn’t I? With barely a warning. Next to no preparation. Little idea of what to expect down there. But I had asked you, remember? I had asked you for help, for information, and you enchanted me instead. The things I saw down there. The things I heard… I thought I was going to die. I sometimes now wish I had.” 

Achilles was trembling now. He had tried hard not to waver, he had cried enough this past week, and he’d be damned if he shed any tears before this damned Wizard—but even so. It was hard to keep the strain from his voice. 

“God, I’m angry—fuck. But—” He collapsed against the wall, brought his hands to his forehead, covered his eyes.

He didn’t make you any promises. This was all your own fault. You wanted to be special so damn bad, didn’t you? Couldn’t just leave it all alone. You’re just looking for someone to blame. Always. You don’t deserve to be angry at anyone but yourself.  

 “I’m not angry with you. Fuck. I’m… I’m angry at— I’m pissed that… God, I wanted to start over so badly when I came here, I wanted to start something new, and I just never knew how, and I thought… I thought this was it, didn’t I? I thought this was my chance. Fucking hell…” 

Rasmodius said nothing. For a minute, the only sound was the fluorescent hum of the lights. 

When he finally turned to meet Achilles’ gaze, there was a heavy sorrow in his violet eyes. The Wizard’s shoulders were stooped as he slowly removed his hat and held the brim tightly in both hands. In a soft, quivering voice, as weak as Achilles had ever heard it, Rasmodius said, “I owe you an explanation. But I first must ask if you are willing to hear it.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“The truth can be both difficult to speak and difficult to hear. You will see that I believed my actions to be justified—and that, you may not like to hear.” 

Achilles didn’t bother biting back his scoff as he paddled for the shallow end, where he could better face Rasmodius head on. He took a seat on a shelf built against the wall, still half-submerged within the comforting confines of the steaming water.

Meanwhile, the Wizard had conjured closer one of the wooden benches that had been lining the upper half of the pool. He fixed his robes and took a weary seat. 

And once Achilles had made himself comfortable, he began. 

*****

“I had always had an interest in spirits. From a young age, I found that I could speak to them. And they to me. And thus, it came to be that to visit the Astral Plane was as easy as stepping foot into my own home. 

“I began to devote the bulk of my work to their study, and in my research, I found myself drawn to a trivial little town situated in a trivial little valley tucked into the southern coast of the Ferngill Republic. Most of my compatriots cared little for history—it is not quite so flashy a field as others, as you can imagine—but I knew my pursuits would one day pay off, and so despite their ridicule, I studied on. 

“The land that is now called Stardew Valley had been a major battle ground during the Spirit Wars, though most of its secrets and stories have naturally been lost to time over the past two thousand years. That being said, magic leaves its marks. And I, young and naive, and desperate to prove my worth, was confident I would be the one to uncover them.

“The original inhabitants of the land—this was roughly three centuries ago—came for the iridium buried deep within the Sunspray Mountains. Stardew Valley a mining town. Can you imagine that? 

“With thanks to a certain Mayor Jonathan Keppler, for whose diary I spent decades searching, I learned that several years after the founding of the town, the miners accidentally uncovered a long forgotten artifact from the beginning of our world, from before the Wars, before humanity, even. A Portal, leading directly from the Spirit Plane into ours. 

“It was not supposed to exist. As you know, the Portals were all destroyed to prevent another war. 

“But in finding this Portal, the townsfolk must have woken it, and in doing so, provided the shadow spirits—who had long been exiled to the Spirit Plane after their loss in the wars—the gateway they had been waiting for to infiltrate our world. 

“Mercifully, the townsfolk were quick to recognize their mistake. The practice and study of the arcane, you see, was more widespread among the common folk such as yourself back then. The mines were quickly abandoned, and blood magic used to seal off the floors in an attempt to rectify their folly. 

“Why blood, I do not know. It is an incredibly crude sort of magic, one that demands a high price. But it is simple and straightforward; it is likely the townsfolk had little time to develop a more thorough solution.

“Regardless, it ultimately ensured that only those who shared blood with those who crafted the enchantment would be able to pass through the trapdoors that separated floor from floor. The shadow spirits, obviously having no relation to any of the townsfolk, would therefore be unable to leave the confines of the bottom most floor of the mines. Trapped forever they were, unable to escape their granite cage. You see, boy, it essentially rendered the Portal useless. 

“Stardew Valley was safe. And so, in turn, the entirety of our Plane. A war had been prevented. 

“But all magic will naturally weaken over time, if not occasionally renewed. Although the danger had passed, few folks remained in the town after these events, and I surmise that fewer still remembered the stories that their forebears told of the shadow spirits that had once nearly broken through.  

“You have been taught that the shadow spirits’ power waxes and wanes with the season, reaching a peak the week of Spirit’s Eve?” 

Achilles grunted an affirmative. 

“Approximately 40 years ago, precisely on Spirit’s Eve, we wizards heard rumblings of a severe disruption within the Spirit Plane. Something had happened. 

“What that something was, we wizards were unsure—but the disturbance was swiftly traced across the sea to Stardew Valley. My work had finally paid off. I was the obvious choice, and was swiftly selected by my guild to leave immediately for Ferngill to investigate further and report back. 

Rasmodius’ eyes gleamed—a greedy shine evident even through the spa’s steam. “I was… triumphant. I deserved this. This was my opportunity to demonstrate my worth to my guild once and for all. No longer would they sneer and turn up their noses at my endeavors. No. They would all know my name, now.

“For not only would I locate the information that we sought—I was determined to find the solution to whatever problem had clearly occurred. Singlehandedly. 

“But when I arrived, I learned that folks in this simple little town had, to use a common phrase, beaten me to the punch. I speak of course of Marlon. Gil.” 

“And Mona.” Achilles had interrupted, his voice biting and low as he watched Rasmodius for any signs of remorse. 

Rasmodius did not disappoint. His violet brows drew closely together at the mention of her name. 

“Ah. Yes. And Mona. The third member of this so-called ‘Adventurer’s Guild’…” 

Here, the Wizard’s voice wavered. A barely imperceptible shake of his head. 

“Perhaps it was jealousy. More likely it was pride. But I chose to ignore them.

“Nobody knew spirits like I did, and those three had not spent decades studying the arcane arts as I had. I did not need help, least of all the help of backwards, bumbling young villagers who likely wouldn’t recognize a spirit if one raked its poisonous claws across their face. 

“I conducted my experiments away from them. They busied themselves with what was clear to me a misinformed, futile mission in the mines, and for the first year or so, I let them carry on with their business while I carried on with mine. 

“But success wasn’t as easily found as I had anticipated. The disturbance was clearly connected to the mines, and, I assumed, to the Portal the mountain housed deep within itself. But from what I could discern, the seals upon the trapdoors were still intact. No shadow spirits had escaped their prison. I could hear their murmurs from deep within the fortress of the abandoned mines.” 

Had a breeze rippled across the water? Or perhaps the cold had come from within him, a bone chilling shiver that had sent Achilles’ body recoiling at the memory of those same murmurs. 

“I began to second guess myself. I began to miss my books, my mentors, fellow wizard and witches. Perhaps I would, in fact, need reinforcements, to better understand this puzzle.

“But war had just broken out between Ferngill and the Gotoro Empire, and in my willful pride, I had delayed too long. Almost overnight, I lost contact with my guild. I was on my own. It was what I had wanted, wasn’t it?” Rasmodius’ chortle wheezed into a sigh. “No… it was then I finally realized, I could not do this on my own. But too little too late, as they say, is that right?

“If not for Mona…” 

Rasmodius stood now, and began again his pacing along the edge of the pool. 

“She was a peculiar girl. Not a witch, but common, like yourself, and thus born with the more limited magical abilities of your kind. But she was an incredibly bright young lady—fearless and strong, and a fellow lover of history. A quick learner who had managed to teach herself a number of skills steeped in the arcane. 

“She approached me the Spring of my third year in the Valley. The Adventurer’s Guild had approached me before, of course, but only now was I, in my desperate state, willing to hear them out. 

“She spoke first of monsters that had been terrorizing the town at night. I had known this, of course, from my own examinations, but I had not given them much thought. Monsters, after all, are not spirits. They are of little danger in the grand scheme of things…”

Fuck you, tell that to all the bruises on my body. But Achilles held his tongue. 

“Now the Adventurer’s Guild had originally been working to stem their invasion. But Mona was a highly discerning young lady and she found it highly unusual the rate at which the monsters only seemed to gain strength and numbers, no matter how many they killed.

“For weeks, she diligently traced their tracks back to the Sunspray Mountains, and subsequently surmised there must have been something strange happening down in the mines. Something must have been providing extra power to the monsters. 

“That was when the Guild began their subterranean expeditions. And they discovered…” Rasmodius paused. A deep sigh left him, and he sat back down on the bench, hunched again, his forearms resting against his thighs. “And they discovered precisely what I had failed to see. 

“The seals in the mines had weakened significantly. The spirits had broken through the bottom most floor and had been spilling into the upper caverns. 

“Most were still unable to leave the mountains. The enchainments hadn’t fallen entirely, and only the strongest spirits could fully overcome the residual blood magic as well as the tether of the Portal —but even so. It was enough. The mines—one of the most vital keystones of the Elemental Walls that protected the Valley—had fallen to the shadow spirits. I realized then that the collapse of this first keystone must have been the disturbance we wizards had felt across the Gem Sea that Spirit’s Eve. 

“What is more, those spirits who could overcome the tether had already made their way to destroy the second closest keystone. The community center. There are five keystones in the Valley, Achilles. One falling was bad enough. Two would be disastrous. Three entirely apocalyptic. With three keystones destroyed, the entire Wall would fall. We would not be able to recover.” 

“How had I missed it? It was right under my nose. I had spent years studying the site, and I had not even an inkling. I hadn’t heard the spirits. Not on the surface—no, I had only heard their trapped screams deep within the crust of the earth.

“I began to question everything. What else had I missed? How had I failed to sense their presence at the community center? Were the other keystones safe? And why had I been so determined to act alone? 

“Yes, I had been prideful, yes I had thought myself above the Adventurer’s Guild—but to have been so dismissive, after a year of no progress? Why had I waited so long to have reached out to my guild for help? 

“That is when I knew… That, Achilles, is when I knew. I could not trust the voices. I could not trust my own thoughts. The shadow spirits must have infiltrated my mind—taking advantage of my arrogance, twisting my own thoughts to ensure that I did not get in the way of their success…

“That being said, we refused to give up. Mona and I put our heads together, combined our knowledge, our skills. I learned to trust her. She became… like a daughter to me.” 

Another sigh. Rasmodius buried his head in his hands. 

“Day in and day out, over the course of the Spring, we worked to find a solution in the mines, a way to revitalize the seals or perhaps implement new ones. Anything to keep the shadow spirits from continuing their infiltration. It would be a highly, highly difficult task with such a limited pool of magic—I was but only one Wizard, and Marlon and Gil’s gifts were more grounded in the physical— but we had no choice. We had to think of something, and we spent days and nights brainstorming, but it soon became clear there was only one way forward.

“We would have to destroy the Portal at the bottom of the mines. It would be difficult. It would be dangerous. But it was our only choice. Anything else would be but a temporary solution. 

“And so I joined the Adventurer’s Guild. Joined them on their expeditions into the earth, expeditions I had once ridiculed. Our only mission now was to destroy the Portal and save Stardew.

“I found I was able to descend, despite my lack of blood. The weakened enchantments that were allowing spirits through to the surface were of course responsible for my own success here, though of course, at the time, I attributed it all to my prodigious skill and power.” 

Rasmodius cleared his throat, and for the first time he raised his head to gaze across the water. But he didn’t look at Achilles—instead, his eyes were glazed and unfocused, frozen as they squinted at some invisible speck in the air. 

“For it was remarkable, how much… better everything was, after I joined. We descended faster than ever before. I crafted the elevator system. I found them iridium ore for their blades. I slew monsters and spirits with but a flick of my wrist. Our progress was unprecedented, because of me. Yes, I would be the reason for our success…

“But with every floor, their cries grew louder. I could still hear them. Pounding at the edges of the mind that I had now learned to close. It was difficult, cutting them off—communicating with spirits had always been but second nature to me. I had spent hundreds, if not thousands, of hours in the Astral Plane over the years. As I said, from a young age, I could speak with them… and they with me… 

“But I had learned from my previous mistakes. I was on my guard now. I kept my mind closed, and my wits sharp. I knew their tricks. I would outsmart them and destroy them, and once the war ended, I would return to my guild in Gotoro triumphant. 

“I just needed to finish this one task…

“How many floors? How many more floors remained? That is what we asked ourselves each and every hour—60, 70, 80, 90—we had to be hundreds of feet deep, and we were running out of time. Winter was just around the corner, and all the hard work, all the progress we had made would be lost. 

“Marlon insisted we ought to wait. Typical of him—he was always too cautious, never fully understood the stakes. Everything was just an adventure to him. He said we ought to sit this Spirit’s Eve out and wait for the Winter to roll over with a fresh slate. We would be better prepared this time, he said. What was the harm in waiting another year?”

A dry, hollow laugh. 

“Much could happen in a year, is what I said to him in return. The community center could fall. We could not afford to wait, we had to do this now. Strike now! 

“Of course, Gil sided with Marlon. And Mona… I was outnumbered. We argued…

“I told them I would do it myself. After all, hadn’t I been doing most of the work up till then anyhow? I didn’t need them. We had only descended so far down the mines because of me—what had they been but dead weight? 

“I had nearly one foot out the door when Mona fell to her knees, begging me to reconsider. She had two rules. Never go alone. Never leave alone. And looking at her… I knew she was right. I acquiesced. I promised. We would wait and start anew in the Spring.” 

The gleam had returned to Rasmodius’ eyes. 

“But the night before Spirit’s Eve, I woke with a fire in me—we were so very close to the bottom, I could feel it. It was now or never.

“I knew the others would never agree, and so when everyone was asleep, I stole away to the mines alone.” 

Achilles could see it. A younger Rasmodius slipping out from the Adventurer’s Guild cabin into the dead of night, black cloaks swishing at his heels, hood hiding his violet hair as he skirted through the trees further up into the mountains.

“I took the elevator to the 98th floor. I cleared it myself. I went to the 99th floor. I cleared that myself. It was proof, all of it proof, that I did not need them, that I would secure this victory alone. 

“A swarm was waiting for me on the 100th floor. The largest I’d ever seen. But I could handle it—   I had to. It was I alone of all the Wizards who studied the spirits of the Ferngill Republic, no one knew than better than I—there had to be a reason. Yes, I had been brought to Stardew Valley for a reason. This was my destiny…“” 

A drop of sweat cascaded down Achilles’ neck from his brow. 

“That’s what I told myself. Even as the swarms grew larger and larger, and I struggled more and more to stay afloat, I told myself… this is your purpose. This is what you wanted…” 

A shadow crossed the Wizard’s face. Rasmodius took a moment to collect himself. 

“I would have died that night. The spirits… they became too much for even me. If it were not for Mona, Marlon, and Gil…

“They came. To save me. I couldn’t spare even a second to ask— how? when? why?—but together, together we fought the spirits, side by side, we cleared the floor, but— ” 

Rasmodius seemed to stifle a cry. He turned away from the pool, one palm braced against the tiles lining the walls. In a low, flat voice, he continued. 

“It was too much. It was Spirit’s Eve, the spirits were at maximum strength. When the dust finally settled, both Gil and Marlon…

“Mona begged me to return with her to the surface, to get them help, but I… I could not. It was them or the Valley. I told her this was our chance. That we were close—so very close. Why else would the spirits be fighting back so hard? 

“I pressed her to continue. And to my surprise… she agreed. I have regretted that ever since. 

“We left Marlon and Gil behind. We proceeded to the next floor and the next and the next, with little energy to fight, we could focus only on finding the trap doors… 

“Then they came…”

The lights flickered—or was it Achilles’ vision? He ran a hand across his brow, felt a cold sweat continue to bead along his temples. 

“I felt them clawing at my mind the moment we stepped foot on the 105th floor.

“They charged for us. But it was Mona he wanted, not me. It had always been Mona—I would never have made it to the bottom of the mines, I realized that now. The strongest seal of all had been placed upon its doors, and even in its weakened state, I would not have been able to overcome it. I did not possess the blood. And I did not possess the power… 

“But Mona… she had the blood. It was she who had to be taken out, I had been but the bait.

“They wanted to speak with me. The Shadow King. And I… I thought myself ready to receive their message. I do not know, perhaps I believed we could broker a deal. Or perhaps… it was curiosity. Perhaps I was… flattered that the Shadow King themself wanted to speak with me. And so I lowered my mind’s defenses, allowed myself to be transported to the Astral Plane…

“But upon my mind’s arrival, I realized… it was but a distraction. A sham. The Shadow King had been in my mind already, hidden in the corner. It was only now that I recognized their voice. 

“They must have targeted me the moment I had stepped into the Valley—because of my work and studies, I had spent much time with the arcane arts, opening my mind to spirits, and they had come to know my scent well on the Astral Plane. It must have been simple for them to track me down during my visits there, to break into my mind and see the thoughts, the desires within. 

“But how, you may ask! How… I… I who had thought myself above the spirits, who had closed my mind, who had thought myself well-versed in their tricks, especially after my realization in the Spring… how? How could I have been so deceived, again? 

“This is what you must understand, Achilles. This is what I had tried to protect you from. Shadow spirits thrive on chaos and darkness. When they find you, they will infiltrate your mind, will latch onto the worst parts of yourself, feed and grow your darkest thoughts.

“Now they cannot create on their own—no, they will never introduce new ideas into your head. But you see, that is all the more dangerous. For the words they secretly whisper will never seem foreign to you. The strongest spirits are capable of integrating themselves into your thoughts seamlessly. You would never know they were there, in your mind. 

“They knew I was weary of them, but they also knew that I thought myself two steps ahead, and they chose to further magnify that belief, until I thought myself so, so far above them that I subconsciously lowered my defenses, thereby allowing more spirits in my mind. A vicious cycle, is it not… 

“That night, taking advantage of their powers strengthened by Spirit’s Eve, they made their move. Over the past season, they must have been noting my resentment, my arrogance—amplifying it when needed, fostering it, nudging it until it reached a boiling point that very night, when finally, so sure in my belief I was, that I was the only one capable of saving the Valley, I left my bed. Left for the mines. They knew Mona would follow.

“When I realized I had been so easily tricked… well, I was paralyzed. Who was I? Were my thought truly my own thoughts? Was I even in control of my own mind?

“With my mind occupied, my mortal body was defenseless. I likely would have died—all of us would have died. If not for Mona… 

“It happened so fast. By the time my mind had returned from the Astral Plane, it was all over. The spirits were gone. The monsters gone. The Shadow King’s voice no longer whispering in my ear. And Mona… 

“She had used all of her strength, all her power, to temporarily send the shadow brutes back to their Plane and seal the trap door shut anew. 

“But I told you… blood magic demands a high price. And for a single individual, a common individual, no matter how extraordinary, the extent of the enchantment… the cost was her life. With her last breaths, she made me promise to save Marlon and Gil. Made me promise I wouldn’t leave them behind. 

“I obliged. After all…” A raw exhale from Rasmodius’ nose. “What else was there for me to do? With the enchantment renewed, I could no longer pass through the trap door.

“I took the elevator to the 100th floor. Retrieved Marlon and Gil, their broken bodies. Returned to the surface. We had failed. We had failed because of me. Because I had failed. Failed myself, failed my friends. 

“Consumed with regret. With self-hatred. You see, our mission was doomed from the start, Achilles. We had no idea how to destroy a Portal. In my arrogance, I had believed I had enough power to destroy it myself. But I knew now, I could never have even descended to the bottom. Our mission… Mona’s death… utterly pointless. A waste. Such a meaningless waste… 

“And in the days and weeks and seasons that followed, I couldn’t stop asking myself… Is this what you wanted, Rasmodius?” 

*****

Achilles had not moved from his place in the spa during the length of the story. 

Though his anger had faded after his earlier realization, it had surged once again upon hearing the Wizard’s tale. But this was a different sort of anger. One that chilled the heat of the spa, cool and and disquieting. 

He waited for Rasmodius to continue—he had been promised an explanation, not a history lesson—but it seemed the Wizard had run out of steam, and so he coldly tossed from across the waters, 

“Am I supposed to be feeling sorry for you?” 

Rasmodius glanced up, as if only now realizing Achilles were still there. 

“No. I do not expect you to.”

“Good. Because I don’t. You had all this knowledge, and you didn’t bother sharing it with Abigail and I when you had the chance—” 

“Achilles—”

“—That’s why everything was so easy for Abigail at first, wasn’t it? The first 100 or so floors. She was just taking care of your leftovers, wasn’t she? Because any new spirits coming through the Portal were blocked by the new trapdoor on the 105th floor.” 

“Yes… that is correct.” 

“But you never thought to warn her what might be coming after that? Warn both of us how fucked up it was going to get after that? Didn’t think we might, I don’t know, find that useful? Just sent her down. No problem.” 

“Let me remind you, Abigail had been working with Marlon—I had no idea she had been in the mines until the end of Summer—”

“Oh, so you’re blaming Marlon and Gil for keeping her in the dark?”

“No. There is no blame there.” Rasmodius faltered. “Marlon and Gil… they do not know the full events of that night. They do not know what occurred after the events of the 100th floor.” 

“You never told them.” Achilles scoffed. “Yoba, why am I not surprised—” 

“I was too ashamed. To tell them would be to confirm what I believe they have long suspected. That I was indeed the cause of Mona’s death.” 

“And you really felt that your shame was enough to justify sending another girl unknowingly to her near-death?” 

“I knew what remained in the mines.” Here, Rasmodius snapped and jumped to his feet, pointing an accusatory finger at Achilles who had seemingly touched a nerve. Nevertheless, he stubbornly remained unfazed and continued to stare the Wizard down. “I knew the danger was insignificant, that Abigail would be fine—she was never supposed to get past the 105th floor.”

“Well, you know, turns out, she did—“

“—the seal Mona placed upon it could never have been broken by someone unable to access the Astral Plane. In short, Abigail would never have been able to pass through without you—

“Oh so we’re blaming me now—”

“And you were never supposed to be down there either. At least… I had hoped you would never have to go down there…” 

Sensing another story, Achilles merely raised and eyebrow before burrowing deeper into the warmth of the water. Might as well make himself comfortable. The Wizard, on the other hand, began to once again pace, one hand kneading the layers of his robes, the other his forehead. 

“After the events of that night, I swore no one would ever go down those mines again. I worked to find an alternative solution… a way to rebuild and restrengthen the remaining keystones. I thought, perhaps, if I could find a way—then perhaps, with the seal Mona had placed on the 105th floor, that would be enough. That these two solutions combined could keep the shadow spirits at bay just until I could return to Gotoro and seek the wisdom of my guild members. 

“I sought to use the third keystone in the Valley. As valiant a fight the junimos have been fighting, the second keystone was too far gone to be saved so long as the mines continued to be in the shadow spirits’ possession.” 

So you left the junimos for dead. Just wrote them off. Sounds about right. 

“Right. And where is this third keystone?” 

“Here.” Rasmodius traced his fingers along the walls. “The hot spring below this spa was the third keystone for the Elemental Wall. Untainted by the stench of shadow spirits, I thought perhaps I could find a way to draw its energy and rebuild.” 

Rasmodius turned to face him. “And I had hoped perhaps that one day you could help me with this task. That you could be my apprentice.” 

The words came as a surprise. Achilles, who had settled back into his pejorative placidity, found himself breaking his poker face, exchanging it for a deeply furrowed brow of confusion.  

“What?” 

“The golden scroll in the community center… I told you, it was a test. I needed someone who was capable of communicating with spirits, who was able to access the Astral Plane. For many years I waited. Marlon and Gil’s gifts were, like Abigail’s, grounded in the physical. Yes, yes, it is possible to teach the art, but the difficulty increases tenfold where there is no natural aptitude. I believed it better to wait. Surely someone would come…

“The two of them were unsupportive anyway. They believed I was wasting my time. They still were following Mona’s orders… they still believed destroying the Portal was the only solution… Even I was beginning to lose hope… 

“And then you came. 

“I could see you were eager to learn. But a task of this importance is delicate, Achilles, and I needed to make sure you were right for the job, especially given your lack of experience with the arcane. I needed time to not only gauge your abilities, but your temperament. Your curiosity. How you approached problems with little guidance and information, how you handled pressure.”

“What is this, a job interview?”

Although in saying that, he supposed that, in a way, it had been. 

“I suppose I failed then,” Achilles grunted. “Bitter little bastard that I am…” 

“You scared me, Achilles. In studying you, I determined you were… toomuch like me. Eager for greatness, desperate for recognition. The shadow spirits had infiltrated my mind so easily, had taken advantage of those traits of mine, and that had ultimately led to the death of my dearest friend. And had I possessed decades of experience and training that you had not. 

“Regardless, I did not want to train you—bring you into the Astral Plane—any sooner than I needed, for the more time you spent there, the more familiar the shadow spirits would be with your scent, and the more vulnerable you would be to their influence. I feared that you would fall prey to the same things that I had. 

“Even so… I thought perhaps there was still a chance. I decided I would wait, just a bit longer, to judge your capabilities and your potential, even as Marlon informed me we were running out of time. 

“But I refused to see it. What did Marlon know of such things? I was willfully blind to the signs. The community center had lasted far longer than either of us had anticipated. Surely it could stand a few more years. 

“Even so, a part of me knew the end was near… I was studying the hot springs day and night, but I needed help and I knew I had no other choice. I would have to train you. 

“But then you fell ill, and Dr. Harvey recounted to me your strange visions and hallucinations. It was worrying—how had they found you? And so I put on the brakes. I thought you too vulnerable for training then, your scent was too fresh in the Astral Plane. I would wait again, just a little longer… 

“And then you came to me at the end of Summer, telling of a shadow brute on Sunspray Peak who spoke to you of your destiny. And it was exactly what I had feared. They had found you—you, who had spent so little time in the Astral Plane, how had they found you so easily? Already, it was evident, they were taking advantage of your desires. 

“And so yes, I enchanted you. I made you forget. I knew that if those thoughts—the thoughts that shadow brute first introduced to your mind—were encouraged, if you continued to think them, it would feed the spirits. It would be an utter frenzy in your mind, you would think of nothing else, just as I did, and it would ultimately lead you to your doom. 

“Yes. I made a decision. I would solve this myself, or I would go down the mines myself, no matter the cost. This would be my penance, for what I allowed to happen 40 years ago. 

“I did not want anymore people to die, Achilles. That is all I wanted. For you and Abigail to be safe.” 

“Funny way of showing it—” 

“But then Marlon came to me after Abigail’s accident… he took me to the community center, forced me to open my eyes. I realized then, there was no choice. We would not be able to withstand another year. It had to be done. You would have to descend. 

“But I still tried to protect you, Achilles. Sought to shield you the best that I could. You say I taught you nothing, told you nothing—yes. It was for your own good. You lacked the years of training to properly close your mind, there was not enough time—”

“You could have told me they were going to fucking control my mind or inception my mind or whatever shit, you don’t think that could’ve helped me, maybe? Help me be on the lookout—”

“Achilles, did I not tell you that I had fallen victim? I knew already the spirits would try to infiltrate my mind. Twist my thoughts. I knew! I knew everything there was to know, and yet I fell victim to them all the same. 

“If you had for even a second considered that you could outsmart the spirits, they would’ve sensed it. They need but the smallest seed of a thought—it doesn’t even have to be serious, it could have been a simple, speculative passing thought and they would latched onto it, grown it, transformed it so that it was all you could think about.

“I knew you, I saw within you myself. You could’ve believed yourself above their control, and the spirits would have sensed this, would have pushed you to take unnecessary risks you were unprepared for. No, the risk was too much.” 

“Wow, so does everyone in this Valley think I’m that narcissistic a prat—”

“Think about it, Achilles. If I had told you everything, would you not have thought yourself above it all? For even just a second, would you have believed yourself incapable of repeating the mistakes that I, of whose opinion you had was so low, had?”  

“I don’t know.” 

“Yes you do.” 

Achilles bit his lip and averted his gaze. Yes. Yes he would have. He would have thought himself better—smarter. He would’ve sworn he’d never make the same mistakes. 

Nevertheless, he plowed ahead, though more so out of sheer desperation to find some sort of fault in Rasmodius. 

Typical. Always need someone else to blame—

“It didn’t work, though, did it? You told me to close my mind, but we only won because I opened it, because I went to the Spirit Plane—”

“There is no right or wrong, Achilles! There is no single answer that guarantees success—there are a million different ways we could have defeated the shadow spirits, if we only had the time and resources and the knowledge to find them all.

 “You opened your mind and found your solution. Good. If you hadn’t, if you had kept your mind closed, perhaps you would’ve found an alternative solution that also would have worked. I told you what I believed would be the easiest and safest route to take. You adapted, you found something else. I’m glad you did.” 

The subsequent silence rang through the tile walls.

“How did he find me?” The question came out soft, like a child. “When I was sick. How did he get into my head?” 

“The Shadow King had grown in strength… I was not aware he had become so powerful, that his influence could have reached so far beyond the mines, and to have traced the scent of someone who had consciously stepped foot only once in the Astral Plane…”

“But what I don’t understand is… he made you angry. Back then— he made you impatient, you said he capitalized on your arrogance, that he brings out the worst in us. But he was making me happy. I was feeling good that Fall. And even in the mines, he told… he said hadn’t wanted to kill me.”

Rasmodius’ gaze softened, and with a sigh, he folded his hands into his robes and faced Achilles. “The shadow spirits are not evil, Achilles. ‘Spirits of evil…’ It is a misnomer, given to them after their exile from our plane. They are not harmless, no, far from it—but they naturally err towards chaos and darkness, and that intrinsically puts them at odds with our world.

“But no. They would not necessarily kill you for the sake of killing you. They only needed you out of the way. As I said earlier, Abigail never would have been able to get to the bottom with you.” 

But still… “They made me better. At first.” 

“No, they showed you that you could be better.

“Don’t you understand, Achilles? The spirits cannot create new thoughts, they can only work with what they already have. You had the capacity to be content all on your own, they only chose to exacerbate that.”

Achilles thought back to the Fall—how motivated he had felt to start his career anew. To return to his old life with renewed energy. 

“So advertising… moving back to Hyacinthia… it could make me happy?” 

“One single thing isn’t what would have made you happy, Achilles. Yes, you could have moved back to Hyacinthia, back to your old job, and have been happy. You could have also returned and had been miserable. 

“The spirits listen to your thoughts, to everything you had ever considered. That includes your hopes, Achilles. You were desperate, were you not? To find something. I suppose you likely considered multiple options, multiple routes that could have potentially brought you the purpose and happiness that you had desired. They just happen to choose one and bring it to the forefront. 

“But I must also wonder… what makes you believe it was the possibility of returning to your old life that was making you happy, Achilles? You have been so caught up with your career, did you ever think that perhaps it was something else that was making you content, in spite of these considerations?” 

Achilles paused. “I- I don’t know. It’s all… it’s all confusing. The wanting and the not wanting, I don’t… I don’t know anymore. I don’t know if I ever did.”

What do you want? What should you want? What did you ever want? 

God, it was all he could think about, wasn’t it? The questions, but never the answers.

Someone answered it for you, though. 

“On Spirit’s Eve, in the maze…” His voice was tentative, but Rasmodius was quick to interrupt his hesitance in a tone much sharper than previously used. 

“I never should have allowed you into the maze. I had no idea you were there— a careless oversight on my part… You were too raw. Too fresh. Your scent still strong in the air from when you visited the Astral Plane two nights previous, you were but a sitting duck for the Shadow King.” 

“The Shadow King. They, ah… they said some things to me…” 

Worthless. Pathetic. 

Achilles swallowed. “I suppose, from what you said… they were just repeating back to me all… all my own thoughts.” 

“That is correct.” 

“So this really was all my own fault, then, wasn’t it? Strengthening the Shadow King. These thoughts I had… who I am… how I feel… it’s what I deserved.” 

Rasmodius gave him a pitying look that sent him sweeping with nausea. 

“Everyone has thoughts, Achilles. You must remember that to merely have them does not make them true.” 

*****

After a minute or two, Achilles slowly clambered out of the water and reached for a towel. Rasmodius had returned to the bench and was observing the rising steam until Achilles asked, “The alternate plan you mentioned with the spa? Would it have worked?” 

“Given time… perhaps. But we will never know. It does not matter. What’s done is done.” 

“What’s done is done…” He swung the towel over his shoulders and stared across the pool to the other side, where Rasmodius continued to sit. “Is it all done then? The Portal’s destroyed—is the danger gone?” 

“Hmm. Not quite, though the worst is over.

“The Portal may have been destroyed, but the keystone at the mines will need to be rebuilt, as will the weakened community center. The junimos will likely take care of that one on their own. But after the Elemental Wall is fixed, yes, then we can celebrate. 

“That is why I came here today. To ask, finally, if you would like to be my apprentice. You have proven yourself more than worthy. There will be no more secrets, no more lies. Together, we can fix the Walls, and secure a victory for our kind and our names in the books.” 

Our names in the books. 

But he found the thought, strangely, did nothing for him. Achilles only gathered his clothes, eyes weary. “Why me?” 

“Is this not what you wanted? I am offering it to you now. It would be a great honor.” 

Achilles sighed, and the words that left his mouth half-surprised even himself. 

“You should ask Abigail.”  

The Wizard took a step back. “Abigail?” 

“Why, what’s wrong with Abigail?” 

“Nothing. She… she reminds me of Mona.” 

“All the more reason to ask her.” 

“Why are you not interested?” 

Why are you not interested? 

“I… I don’t deserve it. Down in the mines. I just… opened some trap doors and dropped a rock into a box. That was it. It wasn’t particularly heroic. There was no… blaze of glory, it was anticlimactic and it only happened because Abigail was knocked out after saving our asses. I don’t think I deserve the honor.” 

“None of us our heroes, Achilles. You’re a writer, you should know this. In real life, things are never quite as… cinematic. Victories and failures alike are more than often unearned and undeserved. Life is oft but a series of coincidences and conveniences.” 

Achilles sighed. The Achilles of four seasons ago would’ve given anything for this. But now… 

“This isn’t for me. Besides, I think Abigail probably would want it more…” 

“And so what is it that you want?” 

Achilles laughed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he wiped the remaining water from his eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to answer that all year. To just be… satisfied? Content? I want to stop chasing. I just want to start a new life where I can be content with what I already have and who I already am instead of always focusing on what I should be.”  

Rasmodius nodded. There was still a sorrow in his eyes. A deep-set guilt and longing of years past that the day’s walk down memory lane must’ve brought back to the surface. Had he ever learned to make peace with his past? 

With a tip of his hat and wave of his arms, the spa’s steam began to turn lavender. It swirled around the Wizard’s feet as he began to transport himself no doubt back to his tower. 

“You will be content, Achilles. It won’t be today. It won’t be tomorrow. And it will hard. But remember that you have been before—on your own, before the Shadow King ever took refuge in your mind—and you can be so again.” 

*****

Achilles returned home at half past four, the sun already halfway to setting. He was in an odd mood, though could anyone blame him? 

Voltaire greeted him with a very dog-like wag of his fluffy tail before settling on his lap as he took a seat on the couch. 

“Do you ever get bored in here?” Achilles asked, absentmindedly patting the cat on the head. The living room, though still clean from yesterday’s thorough sweep, was now littered with a scattering of Voltaire’s toys. “I’m scared a hawk will eat you if you go outside.” 

“Meow!” 

“You never got a ceremony for yourself, after all you did down in the mines.” Achilles frowned, toying with the corner of one of the mismatched throw pillows. Perhaps he should hire an interior designer… though what was the point, if he was only going to move back…

“That’s my fault. I should have brought you to town. You can have my medal, though, if you’d like. I don’t particularly want it. Maybe we can turn the ribbon into a new collar, how does that sound? I’m afraid Lewis has touched it, though…” 

“Meow.” 

Achilles sighed. 

He put his feet up on the coffee table, hands behind his head as he stared without seeing at the black mirror of his television.

The clock above the fireplace chirped five times before he finally shook himself from his reverie. 

He shifted his feet, and the pages Alex had stacked just yesterday scattered to the floor once again. With another sigh, he bent down to retrieve them, this time opting to place them back on the table rather than hurling them into the fire. Except for one. 

One page he held onto as he curled up into the couch, a pen in hand. He flipped the paper over, now faced with the blank side. 

He had been getting better. Rasmodius was right. Before the pneumonia, before the Shadow King. He’d been feeling better all on his own. Or, perhaps, not exactly on his own… 

He dug a pen out from the coffee table and began to write. 

What Do You Want?

On second thought. 

Achilles crossed the question out.

What Makes You Feel Good?

That felt a little cringy… too cheesy, maybe too on the nose…

What Makes You Feel Good? Better?

[youknowth3vibez]

longing i've never known

Summary: The reader is the ruler of a planet that does everything to a T. Every day is the same routine, and even with all the love she receives from the inhabitants, something is missing, and she can't quite figure out what it is.

this is 100% based on the nightmare before christmas, which is my favorite movie of all time, specifically the song 'Jack's Lament'.

lowercase intended, reader is a black woman, the love interest is an extraterrestrial being that will use gender-neutral terms, and further along the line will be given female-oriented descriptions

⋆｡°✩ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋✩｡°⋆

a sigh leaves her plump lips and she twirls her pen in her hand sloppily before it falls on the ground producing a sigh that fell upon deaf ears. lazily gripping the pen she tosses it onto the desk before standing to her feet and stretching her arms up to the sky before leaning to both sides and twisting her back listening for that oh-so-satisfying 'pop' before rolling her shoulders and relaxing. She makes eye contact in the mirror while straightening her clothes and practicing her 'smile' before preparing herself to interact with those beyond the peaceful confines of her room where she would much rather rot in her bed than continue meaningless interactions with the beings that span this lovely planet. It's the same thing every. single. day. wake up, prepare to greet the community, receive infinite praise and admiration, give an encouraging speech, return home to do paperwork and other chores before returning to the public to wish everyone good nights an ensure everything is in place for the morning. It was fine initially, but the longer she had to maintain this routine, the more she dreaded leaving her warm bed, which seemed to cradle her body perfectly when it came time to leave it. Leaving the trance of inner thoughts the warm air from the outside flooded her senses as she exited the front door of her favorite place in the world, home. she left all her baggage on her front door, that she always seems to pick right back as she enters the estate no matter how much she wishes to forget them there for all of eternity, and made her way to the nightly speech post. There was a platform located in the middle of a pristine park that seemed to taunt her as if it knew that she would rather be anywhere but standing on top of it. Forcing her legs to move onto the platform and raising her index finger in a 'one second' motion as silence fell upon the chattering community of people. She now had everyone's undivided attention and began her speech with a smile and a hearty "good evening everyone!" raising her arms in the air for emphasis, this caused everyone to respond with either a cheer or 'good evening' of some sort. after reciting the pre-written speech, they are written as chores usually, she gave a bow before attempting to exit the premises in hopes of avoiding as many people as possible. this wish is the same every day yet it is always unfulfilled as many of the people began surrounding her spouting infinite praises and compliments, she felt she'd heard every nice thing that could be said about any being across the galaxy. flashing her smile that is slowly fading as the mask she was sure to perfect was beginning to crack, she could feel it coming as her thoughts raced with what the outcome would be if she lashed out right this second. after giving an excuse about needing rest and everyone should be heading off to bed she hurried to her home, specifically her garage where her precious baby awaited her. she adored her spaceship more than any person she had ever encountered. it takes her anywhere she could ever want and never expects her to put on the performance she dreads, small talk. i mean who likes it, it's so awkward and always seems forced, no thanks. Getting inside she pulls a lever that starts the vehicle the pur of the engine soothing her tired ears of all of the chattering, this only being the beginning of a long-lasting massage for the mind that spaceship rides at night always provided. Unbeknownst to her someone was waiting for her to disappear in her home as they placed a neatly wrapped box in her favorite color on a chair that was on her porch before making sure that the letter that had been secured on the side would not be blown away during the night before heading home for the night with a butterfly filled stomach and warm cheeks.

now flying through the infinite absence of light that we call space the soothing sound of silence buzzing for miles. She revels in this moment of peace that she longs for as soon as she enters the atmosphere of her planet again. she is relaxing, eyes closed as she floats knowingly through space before bright lights begin to shine through her eyelids forcing her to open her eyes out of panic and slight curiosity thinking she may crash but she doesn't remember anything being on the path she thought she was taking. once her eyes focused completely she could make out at least 7 different planets, each significantly different from the last, as she begins to get closer to them. Her eyes are wide with anticipation she's been to other planets but never by accident they were always arranged for business and she never was able to experience the environment herself, they were usually very similar to her own planet and were sometimes much worse, considering a few rulers where concerningly odd men. One planet caught her eye it glowed brightly and seemed to draw her to it almost as if it wanted her to be there. landing on the planet she was welcomed by beautiful flowers, trees, and a large waterfall that seemed to lead down a stream in both directions deciding to follow the water in the direction that it flows in order to find if there were inhabitants. after walking a little way down the stream a town began to come into view. The beings here looked much different than she but smiled and greeted her otherwise one even took her hand and kissed her knuckles, which she thought was odd but didn't comment out of politeness, smiling and continuing further into the unknown place. There were people holding hands, wrapping their arms around each other but in a comforting way? she heard someone refer to it as a 'hug' and watching made her feel warmth in her chest as she continued on. during her time exploring she found a pamphlet for visitors in a cute little store. the front of the pamphlet read 'love is meant to be shared, in more ways than one' the inside explains that on this planet the beings have gave love more meaning than just the platonic love for those around you but puts an emphasis on the thought of being in love with something or especially someone. there was an example of the difference between loving something and being in love with something, it was compared to loving food because you love that it sustains you versus being in love with your favorite food and craving it because of how it tastes. she couldn't help but laugh at the example that was given but had to admit it was a pretty good example. she spent more time observing and interacting with the people there and found herself flustered at the romantic advances she was receiving considering this was all foreign to her just a few hours ago. Politely declining, explaining that she isn't from here and just would like to learn more about the place she was in and they were always more than welcome to provide her with their own perception of the planet they populate.

checking her watch she sees that she has to leave soon in order to get a decent amount of sleep for her tiring day back home. saying her goodbyes to the people she has met. she returned to her ship and flew home entering from the garage door that leads to the inside of the house. she makes a beeline for the shower not hesitating to turn on the warm before water stepping in and allowing her muscles to relax and the droplets caress her skin. a sigh of content fell from her lips as she began to lather soap all around her body scrubbing the outside off gently while humming to herself going over the events she just experienced. she allowed herself to fully feel the emotions she felt then all over again her body becoming even more warm, if that is even possible. exiting the shower and standing in front of her mirror she washed her face and brushed her teeth before retiring to her room allowing her bed to welcome her in the most enticing way as she wrapped her bare body in her blankets before almost immediately falling asleep with a smile on her face.

waking up was the easiest it had been in years on this day. She had the best idea to share her findings with everyone this morning in hopes of helping everyone to feel the way she did last night. She got out of bed and stretched before starting her morning routine. After becoming fully ready to take her day by the balls she opened her door to check for mail seeing a small gift, noting that it was also her favorite color, bringing it inside. confusion evident in her facial expression no one had ever personally sent her gifts all acts of admiration were usually group projects like statues, fan clubs, etc. as the whole planet gave all of their affections to her and her only and they were never taught that gift-giving was a way to express high regard. she noticed the envelope on the side and decided she would save it to read when she got back from her morning speech since she didn't want to fall behind. opening the box she saw a flower vase, it had her name painted so nicely on the side that it made her cheeks hot and she couldn't stop smiling before placing it on her counter and getting ready to head out into the world with a more positive outlook on the day her mind dwindling on what the contents of the letter could be.

⋆｡°✩ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋✩｡°⋆

Thank you for reading! This is merely a concept but that I plan to expand on at some point and create a full story.. I'm always taking constructive criticism. Let me know what you like, don't like whatever it is! If you're interested in reading more from me I am more than happy to create for you!

[bbcstdb]

You know what the future of America would look like to the most idealistic and altruistic version of me?

It would not look like the top percent and millionaire media and entertainment vessels telling immigrants and asylum seekers how to seek refuge and opportunity in a land that was never theirs in the first place. It looks like beheading the manifest ugly destiny types. Viva la résistance style. It looks like a coupé d'état of any man and their side kick woman telling the back bone of the country, telling the ones who pick their food and help their industries grow along with their gluttony and cultivate the status quo, that they don't deserve any hand outs from anyone although they likely work harder and literally got you there. Generational poverty and borderline slave work got you those nice cars, overpriced clothes and shoes and many opulent trinkets.

The future of America in my imagination does not fund wars. It funds the education of it's own people. It creates a strong psychology (mental health in general) program for everyone in the melting pot. Invests in fixing the problem of dysfunction as a society at the root. I see colleges universities allowing phsycology/psychiatry graduates to stay in dorms if they provide seminars and group meetings for free when class rooms are unused. Nutritionists along side them. So many health problems undectected, tax payer dollars to the trash, because you refuse to see that at times mental issues and neglect cause bad diets, inefficient, unhealthy lifestyles. How it affects children. How certain things cause birth defects, is that what you want unaddressed to then also bite back and belittle and attack the sufferagees of the cycle you refuse to break. You complain about immigrants but we built this land for you. We fed you, served you, carried the bread and sometimes made you the basket. This is how you repay the back bone of your nation? Any problem can be fixed. Your laws and small minds lack the ingenuity to break free from dead weight. That dead weight is you. It's your ego. You want to be pushed around in a wheel chair you don't need. You want disabled ppl parking when you can walk just fine like the rest of us. Because you have your position you also demand to be carried from the car to your next seat. You are so unbelievably out of touch with humanity and our potential. All you baldies see is a race to space because you're not comfortable sitting down humbly in yours. You make competition of nothing. Because there is nothing. Just the system you want us all stuck in because you're severely lacking in the ability to imagine more, see more, see bigger and brighter over a unity you always had the ability to create. You'd rather live in comfortable fear of competition that doesn't exist. You'd rather stay within the confines of laws that have proven to not be for the people by the people, but whatever the bigger powers in your country say so. You want everyone to cower with you. While anything and everything wonderful you could have created passes you by.

[geminiamethyst]

Skyline Gang: Trial of Darkness. Chapter 2

Chapter 1: click HERE

chapter 3: click HERE

The Skyline was a place of mystery and magic. It just had this ability to bring people together. The nearby residents always seemed to come flooding here almost everyday and tourists come and go just as easily. The only thing that stayed after the park had closed was the Skyline Gang. Dude, Sprout, Mimi, Pip, Candi, Bud and Rainbow the dog lived at the Skyline permanently. At least that’s how it had been since they came to this world and saved it. At first they were confined to the Pavilion by Dawn, someone that practiced in dark magic and killed the previous Skyline Gang. After playing and winning her game, they were able to break everyone free from the darkness. Since then, they had taken residence in the house that was left for them.

It had been about two months since they arrived. And things were on the up and up. After a few weeks, everyone in the Gang had settled into their own routines. Wake up, tend to a couple of things in the morning, greet the staff and assign duties, open the gates, greet the guests, put on some shows, close the park and rest. It was hard at the start, not being used to needing this kind of stamina to work. They got used to it, and started to wake up less tired and sore. Everything started to get a rhythm.

The locals were welcoming enough too. The staff started to like the new Skyline Gang more and even started to offer tips to help things run better. The guests were mostly the same. Everyone pretty much recognised the regulars by face and name at this point. The kids especially were great to get along with. Some of them only met the previous Skyline Gang a few times and didn’t get to know them that well. Others missed the previous Skyline Gang but warmed up to the new Gang after a short while. Even most of the parents said that it was nice to have a younger Skyline Gang as it made the kids connect with them easier.

However, there were still a few people that weren’t on board with this new Skyline Gang. They would always say things like “the old Gang was better” and “why should teenagers do the job of a group of adults”. It was always insulting and sometimes it was worse than that. There was even one point where a nasty letter was sent to the house itself. Thankfully, only Dude read it before anyone else did. Some of what was written was truly disturbing. He mentioned it to Bud, and both agreed to have it filed away for evidence in case the same thing happened again. So far nothing happened.

But talk about showing some form of gratitude…

It didn’t matter right now. Everything was running smoothly and the disruption of complaints were minor for the time being.

“I need to sleep! I’m dying!” Sprout complained, flopping onto the sofa in the den. He fell back on it so hard that he bounced a little from the impact. Everyone else was in the den as well. Bud was tinkering with a small robot that needed maintenance. Mimi was gossiping to Pip on the other sofa. Candi was in the kitchen and Rainbow was laying down on a large cushion, feeling just as lazy as Sprout at that moment.

“What are you talking about, Sprout?” Dude chided, hands on his hips. “I would’ve thought that you had a good sleep last night.”

“You don’t know that.” Sprout countered.

“Sprout, I had to literally drag you out of bed this morning because you didn’t want to wake up.” Dude smiled smugly, recalling how the morning went.

“It takes a lot of mental energy to come up with my genius jokes!” Sprout moaned dramatically. Dude rolled his eyes affectionately at this. He can’t exactly blame Sprout for wanting to stay in bed, even he had to admit that he found the beds comfy. They were just as comfortable as their old rooms were back in the Pavilion. Then again, the rooms were just a copy of what they had before. The only difference was that there wasn’t a private bathroom attached to them. The house wasn’t big enough for that. They weren’t soundproof either so everyone needed to be aware of any loud noises they might accidentally make.  Only one bedroom was barren. A bedroom that had a grey door. Other than a bed, wardrobe and desk, it was blank and empty. The Gang collectively decided to turn it into an extra storage space, but hadn’t gone through with it yet.

“Here you two! Something to help make you both feel refreshed!” Candi announced as she came out of the kitchen. In her hands was a try with five glasses of lemonade. Each glass was colour matched to coordinate with each member of the Gang.

“That’s sweet of you, Candi. Thank you.” Dude smiled gratefully as he took his glass. Sprout scrambled to cartoonishly sit up, eager to take his own glass.

“That’s Candi for you. No matter what, she’s always sweet.” He grinned before taking a sip of the soft drink. “It’s quite literally in her name!” Candi grinned at the comment, and she started to pass around the lemonade to everyone else. She had a spring in her step, which made everyone wonder how the glasses stayed on the tray. As she passed lemonade to Pip and Mimi, Sprout continued speaking: “Hey, imagine if we had an opposite of Candi. Now that would be bonkers!”

“You mean…you don’t want me around anymore?” Candi whimpered, shaking a little. She didn’t like to think about it, but she did have slight abandonment issues. She had a bad revaluation of someone who she thought was a friend, really wasn’t. She trusted the Gang. They were true friends to her. She just didn’t want to be alone again in a tragic way. So to suddenly hear something like that was quite shocking to her. Sprout immediately looked ashamed of himself. Another thought that he probably should’ve kept to himself. Especially since he and the others knew about what happened to Candi before she arrived to the Skyline.

“No, Candi. Don’t be silly.” Mimi immediately stepped in. She put down her drink, standing up. She carefully took the tray from Candi, also placing it down. She consolingly placed her hands on Candi’s shoulders. “You’re always going to be part of this Gang.”

“I think what we’re saying is what if we had a friend that was the opposite of you.” Bus keenly added, fetching the red cup that he had received yet. “Not to replace you, just a new member of the Skyline Gang.”

“That’s good. I was a little worried.” Candi sighed in relief, hand over her heart. Her worries melted into a curious smile. “But it would be nice to have a new friend too!”

Silence washed over the room. It was awkward and unsettling. Candi’s words were meant to be innocent, but it somewhat had a small negative effect. Having a new friend, a new member to the Skyline Gang, did sound intriguing and a nice change. However, that would only bring a small problem. No one in this house chose to be in the Gang. They weren’t even from this strange world. If they wanted a new member, how would they do it?! The Skyline Gang leader before Dude did it. It was his last action before he was killed. The only problem was that no matter who they asked about it, the answer was always the same. Nobody knew how it was done. And maybe that was for the best. No one could misuse that power. Especially given how disrespectful most of the public was when this new Skyline Gang just showed up out of nowhere. It wasn’t like anyone had left instructions anyway. No one would’ve had the time, given how swift Dawn made her work complete.

“Whose turn is it to cook tonight?” Pip suddenly asked, wanting to divert all attention from this silence.

“I believe it’s Dude’s.” Mimi grinned. Dude grinned back, thankful to be distracted like this.

“Bud, what do you prefer tonight?” He asked. Since Bud was on the spectrum, his taste preferences were different to everyone else’s. It would mean that if the genius wanted something different, Dude would have to cook two meals. He didn’t mind that, it just meant extra work.

“I’ll make it easier for you.” Bud concluded, taking a sip from his lemonade. “The lasagna you make is good for both myself and the others.”

“Coming right up!” Dude cheered, immediately taking off into the kitchen. This was relatively normal for the Gang now. They made their own routines and preferences to that routine. Sharing and swapping responsibilities was part of that routine. No one ever had any complaints about it. Things were running smoothly. Why should the peace be disturbed?

[thehealingdance]

the magic of following your soul

When the soul speaks, listen. Sometimes it's the quietest, most subtle little whisper at the back of your consciousness. And so it can be hard to hear. Still when it speaks: listen.

Listen even if you're busy elsewhere. You heard the whisper in the first place, so it's important. Listen.

Listen especially if you're busy with something else. This is your soul speaking. There is nothing more important than what it has to say.

Listen. What is it telling you?

You may not be best pleased with what you're hearing. You may feel resistance to following it's guidance. Still, this is your soul speaking to you. The truest, most authentic part of you.

What stops you from listening, following, being that most authentic part of yourself?

Only the false self. The illusion of safety and control. The limiting, derailing, self-defeating confines of your comfort zone.

Yes, it can be hard. Yes, it can be a challenge.

Do it anyway.

And then watch the magic happen.

Now this may sound like a bit of spiritual baloney to you. The kind of thing you read and nod at, but then go on thinking that this is something that happens to others who are already enlightened or something that only applies to the Big Stuff.

But I'm actually speaking from my own, personal experience here ~ and also from the place of knowing that the Big Stuff is in the small things. The everyday things. The blink-and-you-might-miss it moments.

In less abstract terms, soul was speaking to me yesterday to go out. Get on the train and explore this picturesque, old town only 5 minutes away. And yes, the false self had all kinds of counter-arguments, about how nice and cozy the bed was and how it was Sunday and isn't Sunday the day of rest, the day to be nice to myself and not force myself into doing things?

But the soul kept whispering. So I packed up my stuff and left, went to the station and got on the train.

Once I arrived in that little town, the false self had subsided, fascinatingly, and the flow of simply going was much easier to follow. No sub-routines in the back of my mind questioning everything all the time. Just ... moving. Just flowing.

And that flow took me to the most magical place imaginable. There I was, strolling along a wide, gravelled path through the park, already noticing that something was coming up ahead, the path changing its shape. And I stepped past a bush, the path widened into a little plaza kind of thing and ~ wow. The energy in that space!

Incredible.

I was drawn straight across the place to the flowerbed in the middle, and as I came closer I saw there was a fountain at the top. Fountains always draw me, I moved closer.

First, I noticed the horns. The spirals, and then also the ones spreading to both sides. And I knew, instantly, I was connecting with an elemental. That was represented by that fountain head.

I walked closer and saw that there were actual stepping stones through the flower bed so you could get really close to the fountain. I walked along and as I crouched down before the fountain, I realised that what I'd taken for stylised eyes were actually eyebrows and the green man had real eyes.

The feeling of connecting with something immensely beautiful and soft and gentle and healing got even stronger.

I sat there for a while. Simply feeling into the energies. The bushes to my right rustled; there was a noise that sounded almost as if the pipes were about to start running water. They didn't, and I realised a lot later that this must have been a squirrel announcing its presence.

I sat there until a family walked into the space, then made my way out of the flower bed and sat down on a bench in the sunshine.

Just sat there, breathing, feeling the energy.

After a while the thought surfaced to take off my shoes. And there were all these thoughts speaking against it ~ how it's such a hassle, to take shoes and socks off and then put them on again; what people might think. And so on.

I did it anyway. Just took shoes and socks off, put my feet on the ground. Sat there, breathing, in the sunshine, revelling in the energy.

A squirrel clambered down one tree, hopped across the grass ~ hop, hop ~ and skittered up the next tree.

A little later, I was beginning to feel drawn to get up and walk across the grass towards the little pond.

(What will people think if they see you walking barefoot across the grass?, screamed the mind. I did it anyway.)

And I stayed there for a while. Took some photos, filmed somed video. Just let myself slow down, stand barefoot on the grass and the earth. Let the peace soak into me.

When it became cooler, I walked back, put my shoes back on, and returned to the fountain. Connected with the being again. Let myself melt into this beautiful, healing energy.

And gave deep, heartfelt thanks to the gift I'd been given. This blessing.

There is nothing in the 3D that can compare to that. Nothing.

And that, dear reader, is what can happen when you follow the soul. ❤️

[jrobertallen]

Melissa Ran Teddy (2)

Ran was handcuffed to a short chain that was bolted to a metal desk in a small room. The walls were made of plastered sheetrock and because the stuffy air smelled like piss and cigarettes the confined space reminded Ran of his unfinished downstairs bathroom.

The interrogation room was featureless except one dimly lit light bulb sticking out of the wall just above a small mirror. Nice touch, he regarded the dead moth that was perched atop of the dusty bulb socket.

A door opened and two people entered, Ran sat upright and tried his best to look dignified, instinctively he wanted to scratch his nose, but due to the short chain and cuffs he wasn’t able to reach his hands to his face without contortions.

The Detectives took their places facing their subject, Dan Blake, the male Detective whispered Rans name ominously.

The Detectives wore typical office cops attire, the male of about 40 years sported a badly tailored blue suit and clashing red tie, bushy large broom handle mustache and short cropped marine style haircut.

His partner, a taller, older black woman wore her blue knee length office skirt and jacket over her tan blouse, she was habitually twirling her curly brown shoulder length hair as she slowly studied Rans file in silence.

Finally she spoke up, It’s time to give our guest some water, she prompted her partner with her long red fingernails.

The male Detective smiled as he produced a tiny foam cup and placed it just outside of Rans reach. You have been sitting in that cell for the last 4 hours, you must be parched, by all means, drink up buddy!

Are you kidding me? Ran laughed, pulling up his chained wrists.

Protocol, the Detective answered. You can still lean forward and lap it up.

No thanks, Ran said with a grimace.

I’m Detective Lopez because I have a mustache, and She is Detective Pike because she smells bad, he inferred to his partner. She volunteered to help me out with this case but be careful, Detective Lopez leaned forward and whispered, she hates white guys!

Okay? I guess so. Answered Ran wondering how Lopez could crack jokes in this situation.

Let’s get the Miranda part out of the way so we can start.

Wait, Ran interrupted Detective Lopez, How is Mary?

The Detectives looked at eachother. Who is Mary? Lopez asked.

Mary and Manuel Tilla? They own the Gas Stop Dinner!?

In a moment, let’s get the Miranda part out of the way first, Okay? Good!

Lawyer please! Asked Ran.

That wasn’t the response the duo was expecting, they seeked subservient cooperation not legal conflagration.

You will have to wait until you are read your rights, Detective Pike insisted, then if you don’t wish to talk to us you can go to the next step. Okay?

No, it was not okay to Ran. If anything he was also a victim, not a perpetrator. Detective Lopez, I want to know how Mary is.

Lopez shifted himself and smiled so broadly that his broom handle mustache changed shape. I think you know that she’s dead, and so is her older brother, Manuel. You already know that.

Oh wow! No way, go fuck yourself, that’s impossible! Ran surprised himself with his answer but neither Detective looked deterred by the sharpness of his words, if anything they looked even more insistent.

Detective Pike flipped open Rans file and on top of the first page was a picture of Mary covered in blood. We counted one, two, at least 5 bullet holes in Mary, Manuel had three blasts to the head. How’s that for dead?

They were both alive when I left, Ran insisted, go check the video tape!

Ran tried to move again but was prevented by his restraints.

I’m serious, Ran shouted in alarm, there was a crowd of kids in the parking lot recording what happened, I’m sure they can back up the video.

They are all dead! Lopez chided, You know that You killed them all? Right?

I want a lawyer right now!

Hold on, Pike insisted, if you want to speak with us using that tone of voice, we need to Mirandise you first!

Nope, not this time! Detective Lopez disagreed and folded his arms, I don’t feel like he deserves his rights anymore!

I want my lawyer!

Okay, we will stop trying to fool you , but first you get to sit through your Miranda, and we will need a stool sample afterwards.

You want what?!

The murderer has the right to remain silent, Pike started.

What happened to the biker? The guy with the big teeth? Smelled like burning batteries!

Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law.

Mary shot him, he took off in a brown car and rammed it into a cell tower!

The killer may have a lawyer present. If you cannot afford one, the court will provide you an executioner free of charge.

He shot Mary in the shoulder, Manuel was hit in the eye!

Look here Buddy, Lopez interrupted. What is your highest level of school that you completed? Have you ever stolen anything? Even a apple from a neighbors tree?

Mary shot the bastard with her shotgun. He should be dead but he managed to crawl into the street.

Everyone at the scene was killed, Pike insisted, and You killed them all with this machete!

Detective Lopez slammed a gigantic machete onto the table. Fresh blood drained off the edge and started to pool on the Detectives paper work.

Tell us about this morning, just go through the events leading up to the moment you decided to massacre everyone present.

Hey you gimp! Lopez suddenly screamed, you should just wake up asshole!

What?

Wake up! Lopez shouted again!

What do you mean?

He told you to wake up! Pike shouted.

Wake the fuck up! Pike picked up the machete and started swinging it wildly.

You better do as she says, she hates white guys like you!

Ran woke up, he was in the same room, but not handcuffed. Lopez and Pike were not with him, in fact they were never there at all.

The officer who tazed Ran, Officer Walter was sitting across the table watching Ran with a smile. Compared to Pike and Lopez in his dream, Walter was almost likable except for his memory of getting crushed and electrocuted by the huge man earlier.

Looks like You fell asleep buddy, but while you were out I was told that We got the go ahead and are releasing you, Dan or Ran, which is it? We’re dropping the charge of resisting and you can go the moment you sign this release form.

My legal name is Dan, but everyone calls me Ran because my Brother couldn’t pronounce the D when I was born.

Ran, You looked like you were having a nightmare, would you like some water?

No thanks, and yes, I had a terrible dream. Don’t pat yourself though because you didn’t make it in. When can I see Mary and Manuel?

They are at Harborview, Mary was upgraded but Manuel is still critical. You shouldn’t go there. Once they are released and we had a chance to ask them some questions, then fine, but until then we want you to avoid speaking with them until they tell us their version of the events.

Okay , Ran said shakenly.

If you can remember anything knew, or you see the attacker again, don’t approach him, just call us right away by dialing 911 on your cellphone.

I don’t own a cellphone.

Oh, thats weird. Are you restricted or on the registry? The officers expression changed to disapproval.

Me? No! It’s a personal choice.

Oh good!

Say, can I get a ride back to the Gas Stop Dinner, I need to get my car?

The officer looked puzzled. Oh, do you mean the car the biker tried to take?

Well, yes.

It wasn’t fully titled and registered so we impounded it.

Impounded it! I just got it this morning from the police auction. I was on my initial test drive when all this bullshit went down!

The officer looked nervous. Well, that car has a history.

Go on!?

I suppose that its not necessarily needed as evidence.

Look, you guys sold my brother and I that car fair and square. You shouldn’t have sold it to us if there was anything wrong with it.

Hold on! The officer switched to a softer tone attempting to deescalate the situation and hinted at a secret. Okay, Ran, its been a long day for all involved. Give me five minutes and I’ll see if it can be released. I’m not making a promise but I’ll see what I can do, but take my advice, if it were me, based on that cars back story, I would get rid of it fast!

Thank you! So your saying that car is no good? As in bad luck?

Instead of answering the officer helped Ran to his feet, you’re Family is waiting for you in the lobby. I’ll meet you there with an order of release.

Teddy was reading his phone when he heard the lobby door buzzer.

Mom, also known as Mrs Blake, a short thin elderly lady with thin hair stuffed badly under a nit cap was the first to stand up when she seen the face of her youngest Son appear from behind the door.

Mom?! You shouldn’t have came.

She rushed over and applied a breath taking squeeze disguised as a hug to her beloved Son’s waist.

I can’t believe you almost died, she said with tears in her eyes.

Mom! Ran complained, I’m fine, it was just an attempted robbery.

She let go but held on to his arm, I didn’t know if I would ever see you again. You risked your life for what? A car?

It’s all over the internet Teddy Interrupted , there is a video of you chasing that brown car down the street, and then boom! Fireworks! He held up his phone. The video was paused but he could clearly see himself frozen in half of a stride just behind the brown four door sedan.

You need to shut the car lot down, Son! Its too dangerous. I’ve already told Teddy.

Ran looked at Teddy who rolled his eyes back.

Mom! Seriously, it all happened at the Restaurant, the car lot has zero to do with it. I promise you were safe at the lot….Mom!?

Come on Mom, Teddy grabbed his Moms arm, let’s get out of here.

You guys go ahead, I’ll catch up. I got to pick up the car first.

Don’t tell me that your keeping the car? Mom scolded Ran, Let it stay with the police. She had the worst feeling about that car, something about it felt evil to her, as if it wasn’t a vehicle for the living after all, and instead a rolling satanic basket filled with bad karma.

We got way too much money into it to just abandon it Mom, Teddy argued. He will be fine driving it out from the police station, I’ll meet him at home, let’s put it in the back yard until we figure it out.

Oh, good idea Teddy, I’ll drive it in and close the gate, nobody will see it back there.

Mom’s face turned hard as she answered them, Fine! Mom started walking herself to the door .

Mom! Wait! Ran begged.

Mom! Teddy rushed after her. Everything is fine now, let’s just get it over with and be done with it.

The woman and her brother aren’t fine with it! She scolded them both as she left the building holding onto Teddy, and they won’t be fine tomorrow or the next day either!

Even after the door closed behind his brother and Mom, Ran could still hear her ranting as they walked together all the way back to the car. He was happy to stay behind for once.

The next morning Ran felt refreshed enough by 7am to heave himself out of bed. Dressed only in pajama pants he bare chested it upstairs to the second level where the kitchen window overlooked the backyard.

Grabbing his favorite yellow plastic cup Ran made himself a glass of ice water and stared out from the window at the little silver car.

Good morning!! his Mom happily called from the living room. If you want some coffee I put it in the cupboard above the toaster.

Okay! Ran called back. Then remembering his manners said thank you.

Mom..

Yes dear.

Is Teddy here?

No, why?

Who’s leg is sticking out from behind the Z?

The backyard was dry and filled with ankle tall scrub grass.

There were two tall maple trees and a few scrub brush lining the fence but the rest was empty.

Ran was surprised to see the masked face of a second person looking over the fence.

The leg of the person hiding behind the car moved, disappearing from view.

Some people are messing with the car Mom!

On the counter Ran kept a glass coin dish that he dumped his change and whatever odd bits of leftover nuts and bolts into when he came home from work.

Ran grabbed his wrist rocket slingshot off the top of the fridge and dumped his hand into the coin dish pulling out several lug nuts.

The persons leg slid out again from behind the car.

What are they doing? Mom asked.

Ran slid the slider open, and drawing back the loaded wrist rocket, fired two lug nuts at the masked face who had only noticed Ran the moment he was fired on.

Before he could duck the shot, one lug nut struck the fence just below the persons head with a loud smack! The other hit him like a target, careening his forhead squarely between the eyes.

The head disappeared behind the fence screaming, I’m hit! I’m hit!

The person hiding behind the car panicked and stood up, he was also masked and wearing blue shop coveralls, on hearing his partners screams had turned and started running toward the fence. Ran loaded his wrist rocket up again, easily directing the next lug nut into the fleeing persons lower back.

Not satisfied yet, Ran grabbed another round from the coin dish as the would be thief slowly ambled up, throwing his leg over the fence and for a moment positioned himself on top, looked back at Ran while trying to fall over the other side.

Ran had just enough time to get off another shot, pelting him again with a lug nut, this time hitting him embarrassingly in the side as he went over.

That’s what you get you assholes! Ran added insult to their injuries. He donned his flip flops and went out to inspect the car, all the while letting out a series of hoots.

Ran looked around the car and then over the fence for signs of his intruders when his Mom popped her head outside and started berating him.

Ran, she said, I want that car out of here! What did I tell you about it!? She demanded in the sort of tone that told Ran she was finished asking.

Okay Mom, I’ll get rid of it! I’m just making sure they didn’t hurt the car or take anything, He yelled back.

She answered him by slamming the slider closed and locking it shut.

Mom! Ran yelled.

Call Teddy, tell him to help me if you want the car moved.

Mom opened the slider and chucked the cordless phone outside. The phone slid across the deck and fell over the edge landing in a bush.

You can call your brother yourself, I’m not your slave, and take the trash to the street before you come back in!

Mom!? You could have broken the phone!

You didn’t pay for the phone, you don’t even have your own cell phone!

Mom!?

Mom stuck her head back out of the slider waiting for Rans next word.

Nothing! Ran called out meekly, thanks!

Okay, Skinny. I’m only going to tell you that one time, Steve warned his passenger.

Okay, I see, I see answered Skinny.

And your lucky today, the good lord blessed you by making Teddy ask questions about you yesterday, otherwise…

Stu pressed the unlock button, and Said, get-up but don’t slam our door this time or I’ll change our minds.

Skinny couldn’t stop his hand from shaking, he was so frazzled that he couldn’t figure out the door handle.

Here, let me before he damages something, Steve got out and opened the door for Skinny.

You really got messed up! Didn’t you!?

Skinny rolled out of the back seat and landed face first on the sidewalk.

Wearing only his ripped t-shirt and underwear. Skinnys legs were red with lash marks and bruised, his feet blistered raw. His hands knotted and shaking wildly.

Steve grabbed Skinnys pants and dropped them on the sidewalk next to Skinny.

Better put those on before some bum comes and rapes your own bum Skinny!

Skinny couldn’t move, he was not only in tremendous pain from his overnight stay with the Kings, he was coming down hard and in need of a fix.

He dry heaved, looked at his pants on the ground and while wishing he had the strength to put them on, passed out cold.

When Skinny opened his eyes again, he was restrained to a gurney and being loaded into an ambulance.

The EMTs didn’t even try to ask him questions as they secured their load for travel. Through his watering eyes he could barely make out the red and blue lights of a police car flickering against the ambulances cab doors, he could hear the muffled sound of a woman’s voice explaining how she found him lying there, looking like he was maybe hit by a car or beaten by a gang.

We will take care of him, don’t worry.

Don’t worry, thought Skinny.