#Resident human logs

[cosmica-galaxy]

How a Clock Mimic eats:

I call them "soul stealers" (Clock mimics), but I actually think they are mostly after the prey's cells or stored energy. Hence, life "energy". You could be all typical and whimsical and say "oh they steal souls or whatever lol", but it's more scientific then that.

They literally REACH into your body to steal all of your sources of energy. Every cell in your body makes energy and it draws its nourishment from that. When I say "sucks you dry", I mean that in a partial literal sense.

The biggest reason why the prey of a clock mimic will lay on the ground and look all confused, is mostly because the clock mimic drains out all of their cells that produce energy. This could be components of your blood, your stored fat and carbs, as well as anything else they can literally DRAIN out of you. Your nutrients becomes THEIR nutrients. In a way, it's similar to the drill mimics, but in a much more prestigious way with much more damage.

Most of their prey actually die from lack of blood PRESSURE then actual blood loss, as well as becoming comatose because their brain has had all of the energy rich cells/fats/carbs ripped STRAIGHT out of them, causing a lethal dip in the homeostasis that keeps your body in equilibrium. You can also tell if a creature is a victim of a clock mimic if they bleed a grayish WHITE "blood" or their eyes are entirely gray. Yes. The clock mimics can even take pigmentation from their prey. Irises, pupils, hair, hemoglobin, ect. This is what causes the "rapid aging" effect when they drain a victim.

THAT is what makes them terrifying and VERY dangerous. As well as having a VERY slow metabolism, clock mimics can compact the energy they take into their own body, usually in the chest or "head" compartment. It's argued that these versions of mimic don't even have a stomach, which is why they drain vitality from other external sources to get the nutrients they need to power their own organic parts. That also makes their heads, unfortunately, pretty valuable as energy containers or long term batteries. As the body of the clock mimic contains that energy so effectively, it can power devices for months, or years if it's a large mimic, even LONG after the clock mimic has died. Because their body can no longer ingest the material they consumed, it simply sits as a compacted energy inside of their head or chest, waiting to naturally burn out with decomposition or…be put to use by lucky scavengers. In a way, Clock Mimics can be considered "parasitic feeders", since they rely on other organisms to survive. However, "friendly" Clock Mimics can leave prey alive by managing how they drain. So instead of draining them entirely and causing lethal damage, they have a more gentle approach and will steadily drain the host in a careful manner to avoid causing serious damage. When the prey begins to feel the effects too much, the mimic will retract. Alliance scientists have dubbed the lethal feeding as "Parasitic" and the more friendly and polite version of feeding as "Vampiric". One kills the prey and the other merely feeds on them just enough to satisfy. -- This has been a log from the resident human. Logger: Resident Human Subject: Feeding Mimic: Clock Mimic (Comrade)

[mantisgodsdomain]

The HBG discord requires you pay admission to enter. That admission price is either A) one dollar USD or B) social anxiety.

[oneshotnewbie]

Reader walks through fire to save Emily Prentiss. That's it, that's the prompt. You can decide what you do with it. Thank you 💖

Authors note: Somehow lately I've had a thing for long oneshots that go well over the actual 1000 words. I just can't stop writing once I start haha. I wish you a nice start to the week ♥

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the slight mention of burn injuries and fainting. The plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

As Special Agent Emily Prentiss and you brought your car to a stop on a remote forest path, the dense treetops reached high into the sky, forming an impenetrable canopy of leaves that barely let in the light of the sun. It seemed as if nature itself wanted to keep a secret as a cold wind blew through the branches, carrying with it the whispers of the leaves.

A brief exchange of glances between Emily and you revealed the determination burning within you as you checked your gear and got your vests ready. As a well-rehearsed duo in the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, you were familiar with the darkest depths of the human psyche and had faced the most dangerous criminals. But even for you, this case was of unusual intensity.

A series of brutal murders had terrified residents living on the edge of the Arkansas grove. The victims appeared to be chosen at random, and every lead the team found at the crime scene led to a dead end. But now a clue had led you here, to this dark place that was far from any civilization.

Together you made your way down the rocky and arduous path deeper into the forest, the cracking of twigs under your boots and the occasional call of a bird accompanied you like a dark melody. Imbued in your minds was the determination to solve this mystery and put an end to the evil that threatened the innocent inhabitants of this remote area.

Eventually you came to a small clearing dominated by a dilapidated log cabin. The centuries-old wooden walls were overgrown with moss and ivy, which covered the abandoned building like a veil. The windows stood empty and dark, like the eyes of a ghost from a bygone era, silently bearing witness to long-forgotten stories.

Emily sensed an eerie presence that seemed to emanate from the place, as if the walls themselves spoke of the horrors they had experienced. But she forced herself to suppress her fear and focused her gaze on the task before you both. Despite the ominous feeling that surrounded the place, your resolve remained unbroken as you prepared to explore the secrets of this mysterious place.             

“Ah, here we are,” you whispered quietly to her as you crouched and crept up to the entrance, gun drawn. "Let's see what we can find and finally close the case."

You entered the abandoned building together, your flashlights cutting through the darkness and illuminating the path before you. A hint of decay hung heavy in the air as the old parquet floors crunched beneath your feet as if revealing the secrets of the building beneath you. But your resolve was still unshakable, and you searched every room with meticulous care, looking for clues that could solve the mystery.

As you began to move further into the next room, Emily paused in her position in the largest room and raised a hand to silence you before you could even begin to speak. You listened intently, and a quiet but distinct sound reached your ears - a gentle breeze that seemed to whisper through the gaps between the door and the frame.

“Over there,” Emily whispered as you returned to her, pointing to a locked door at the end of the hallway. The two of you approached the door slowly, your hearts pounding loudly in your ears as if anticipating the rhythm of the horror to come. With a quick nod, you released the lock on the door and entered the room first.

What unfolded before you chilled your blood. In the middle of the room sat an altar made of weathered stone, surrounded by extinguished candles and mysterious symbols that formed a dark coven around it. On the walls hung grotesque paintings of dark figures whose eyes seemed to pierce you, as if they wanted to explore your soul.

But the horror reached its climax with the sight of the body lying on the altar - a young girl, bound and mutilated, her face contorted in pain while an iron stake protruded from her chest, her breathing long stopped. The sight of her echoed in your mind, a cruel testament to the evil that permeated the place.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" you asked, an ice-cold shiver running down your spine as the ominous scene before you slowly took shape. Emily shrugged, her gaze caught by the gloomy atmosphere as she swallowed hard to maintain her composure. "We have to get out of here and call for backup," she said firmly, but the undertone betrayed the growing concern that threatened to overwhelm her too. She signaled for you to back off as she took a few steps back to give you cover. "This is bigger than we thought."

You nodded in agreement, but before you could take a step, another sound echoed across the ceiling - a soft rustling, followed by an ominous hissing that seemed to be emanating from a hidden pipe, accompanied by the pungent smell of smoke coming from beneath the door.

Panic rose within you as you realized that you possibly were in danger and that the rest of the team might be taking too long to reach you. You were trapped, surrounded by the dark remnants of a ritual space that seemed to harbor evil and now encircled you menacingly.

As you walked up the short steps and opened the door to leave the basement, and hastily return to your vehicle to call for backup, the blockhouse was engulfed in thick smoke.

Emily felt the heat rising on her skin and the acrid smoke entering her lungs as she coughed and pressed her sweater under her nose to escape the choking smoke. "We have to get out of here!" she shouted over the infernal crackling of the fire, which threatened to spread greedily, as if it was hungry for more fuel.

You nodded in agreement and reached for her hand, and together you fought your way through the impenetrable fog, your eyes burning with tears as you searched for a way out of this nightmare. But the fire, which had spread for reasons still unknown, seemed to cut off your path, your every movement blocked by a wall of heat that threatened you and that blocked your view. You didn't know where the exit was. Every step you took brought you closer to the certainty that you were surrounded by the merciless forces of destruction that were driving you closer to the abyss with every second.

Fear gripped both of you tightly as you looked around and realized the terrible reality. The flames around you burned higher and higher, their glowing tongues lashing out greedily at everything in their path, spreading an atmosphere of desperation and chaos.

And as you progressed on your way, you suddeny saw the outline of a dark figure. You strained to sharpen your focus, to heighten your senses in this inferno. "The perpetrator! He's here!" You shouted out to Emily, your voice filled with determination as you moved resolutely towards the unknown, clutching your gun tightly, the desire for justice burning in your heart.

But in the rush of the moment, you didn't notice that Emily wasn't following you, her own thoughts torn apart by the urgency of the situation. Her eyes searched desperately for a way out of this blazing hellfire as she fought within herself against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

But as you got closer, you realized with horror that it wasn't the murderer, but just a shadow dancing in the pale light of the flames. A moment of relief quickly gave way to anxiety as you realized that the perpetrator was still lurking somewhere in the dark corners while you had lost sight of him. And now you were separated from Emily, your ally, your anchor in this burning hell.

Emily called out to you, but her voice was swallowed up by the angry crackling of the flames that raged around her like a wild animal. Her heart began to race involuntarily as she looked around and realized the cruel reality - she was completely alone, surrounded by the surging waves of fire that threatened to consume her and destroy her existence.

With her back pressed against the wall, she pressed her flashlight hard into the fog that permeated the room, hoping that the beam of light would attract you and lead you back to her. “Y/n, I’m here!” she cried desperately, her voice laced with the pain of isolation. "I'm trapped in the flames. Follow the light, please!" Her words echoed through the burning room, a silent cry for help amid the raging inferno.

Less than a minute later she heard a faint sound rising above the roar of the fire - the sound of a figure, a jacket over your head, fighting through the flames to get to her.

Emily turned to the side and watched in horror as you emerged from the blazing inferno, your face contorted with pain, your clothes scorched by them, and your skin marked by the cruel scars of the fire. “Oh my god, y/n!” she shouted, her voice filled with fear as you fell the last few inches towards her, her eyes wide in terror. "What have you done?"

You couldn't speak a word; the pain unbearable, your voice paralyzed by the torment of the fire. Your only job was to get your partner safely out of this burning house, so you placed a wet blanket over her head and body before carefully guiding her out of the flames, yourself also hidden under the blanket to protect yourself from further burns.

Her hand gripped yours tightly as she pulled you closer to her, feeling the pain and heat of your skin. "Y/n, you are seriously injured. Let me guide you," she whispered softly as she placed your arm over her shoulder, but the adrenaline rushed through your body, your mind numb from the agony that was coursing through you, her words unheard.

You struggled through the flames, your senses numbed by the unrelenting burn that accompanied you as you leaned heavily on Emily. Every step was agony, every breath a fight against the heat and smoke that threatened to suffocate your lungs. But despite the darkness of the inferno, you did not give up, but continued to fight, driven by the irrepressible will to bring Emily and yourself to safety, out of this hellfire.

As you finally made it out into the open and made your way to safety, a deafening bang ripped through the air, followed by a blinding flash of light that pierced the dark clouds of smoke and bathed the night in blinding daylight. Emily and you were thrown to the ground by the force of the explosion, the impact shattering your bodies as chaos erupted around you.

Fire shot out of the windows of the log cabin and quickly spread to the surrounding trees, the forest itself was going up in flames. The air was filled with an infernal crackling and hissing that shook the ground. The forest immediately became a burning fortress, enveloped in an impenetrable veil of flames that seemed to block any possibility of escape. "Y/n, get up," Emily urged, her voice firm and determined as she leaned towards you, "We have to get out of here. I'm going to take you to the hospital to get you looked after." Her words pierced the chaotic scene, a promise of rescue and hope amid the tumult of flames.

She shook your motionless body, but you didn't move. The adrenaline that had once fueled your senses was gone, and now your body was collapsing like a house of cards blown away by a merciless breeze. Emily gently turned your lifeless body onto its back, an act of tenderness in the midst of chaos that reflected your sacrifice and bravery - you had gone through hell to save her.

Half your body was scorched by the flames, your skin scarred by the fire, and your breathing was shallow and uneven, a faint sign of your struggle to survive.

Emily fought the panic that overcame her when she saw your badly injured body. "Stay with me, y/n," she whispered, her voice cracking with fear as the flames around her licked at the trees and ate through the undergrowth, a warning sign of destruction. "You can do this, you hear me? You have to do this. Please, y/n."

But you didn't move, unconscious and silent as death itself. Emily felt the tears burning in her eyes, but she forced herself to stay strong so as not to give up on you. Her hands rested gently on your bruised skin, a silent vow of loyalty and hope amidst the flames.

Emily pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, her fingers shaking with tension as she dialed the number for her boss, Aaron Hotchner. She raised the phone to her ear, hoping for a connection as the chaos raged around her, the flames spreading unstoppably.

"Hotch, we need help urgently," she said, her voice firm and controlled even as fear burned in her heart. "Y/n is seriously injured, we need firefighters and paramedics here. The whole forest is burning down. Now!"

He reassured her that help and the team was on the way, and Emily put the phone away, her thoughts entirely on you, still lying motionless in front of her. "Please, y/n. Wake up," she pleaded, running her hand gently over your burned neck, as if she could call life back into you through the touch. "You have to fight, you hear me? You can't give up."

The minutes passed like hours as Emily waited, her eyes fixed on you, counting every breath, watching every movement of your body as she evaluated your vitals every second. But nothing changed, you remained motionless, your face expressionless like a mask of ash, and your thoughts swirled in a whirlpool of fear and hope.

Finally, the sound of engines pierced the oppressive silence as firefighters burst through the flames and rushed to your rescue. She was accompanied by the paramedics who immediately lifted you onto a stretcher and took you into the ambulance while she followed you with a worried look, closely watching the rescuers' every move.

The ambulance raced through the mountainous streets, sirens blaring across the countryside, as Emily sat next to you, holding your hand tightly amidst the furious roar of the sirens and the rattling engine.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The bright morning light filtered gently through the hospital room window as you slowly came to consciousness. Every breath was accompanied by pain, every muscle in your body felt like it was filled with lead. A silent struggle against the stabbing pain shot through you as you tried to move, only to be thrown back into the soft hospital bed by a painful retreat.

Emily sat by your bed, her eyes full of concern, her hand gently stroking your fingers as if she was trying to ease your pain with her touch. Noticing you had awakened, a soft smile broke across her lips as she reached for your hand that wasn't injured. “Welcome back, y/n,” she whispered quietly, her voice warm and sensitive. "How do you feel?"

You tried to speak, but your voice was only a hoarse whisper, choked by the pain of your injuries, and you coughed painfully. Emily handed you a glass of water and gently held it to your lips, helping you take a slow sip before continuing. "It's okay, speak slowly," she encouraged patiently. "You've had a tough time, but we're here to support you." Her words were a promise of care and hope in the midst of the darkness you had lived through.

You nodded slowly, your mind raging like wild whirlwinds, flooding with memories of the past mission - the fire, the flames, the heat that had penetrated your skin. And then there was Emily, strong and unwavering, standing next to you and holding you as your body slowly gave out and you tried desperately to get her out of harm's way.

“I remember,” you finally whispered, your eyes cloudy with pain as you tried to form the words through the thick fog of memories. A faint hint of understanding crossed Emily's face as she heard your words, her eyes full of empathy and compassion.

"You literally walked through fire to save me," she spoke quietly, her voice laced with a hint of awe as tears pooled in her eyes, glittering like diamonds in the light.

A faint smile crossed your lips, trembling with exertion, as you slowly raised your hand and placed it gently on her cheek, your touch a delicate promise of love and devotion. “You were inside,” you murmured quietly, your voice a whisper in the quiet of the hospital room. "No fire in the world would stop me from saving you. I can't lose you." The words were a confession that reached deeper than words could, a promise that was anchored in the infinite expanses of your connection.

Emily reached for your hand, her touch as delicate as a gentle breath as she leaned against you, letting her tears flow freely. "Thank you for coming to get me," she spoke, her voice filled with admiration and gratitude. "You are incredibly brave. I was deeply impressed by your courage and willingness to sacrifice. I will always be there for you, just as you were there for me."

Your eyes shined with gratitude and a hint of relief. You knew the road to recovery would be long and difficult, but you also knew you didn't have to walk it alone. You had Emily by your side, strong and unwavering, and the team that supported you. Together you would overcome this challenge, side by side, hand in hand, ready to weather any storm that blew your way.

You knew that the bond between you both was strong, strengthened by the flames of fate you had traversed together. And so began a journey of recovery and growth for you that would bring you closer together than ever before. Every step you took together would show you that the love and connection you felt for each other was stronger than any darkness that threatened you.

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Shine a Light on the Cave Salamander

The cave salamander, also known as the spotted salamander (Eurycea lucifuga) is a species of salamander found throughout the eastern United States, particularly in the Appalachian mountains. As the name implies, they are most common in caves with exposed limestone or other calcifying rocks. However, they may also occur under rocks or logs, or in streams in deciduous forests; anywhere that's dark and moist.

The spotted salamander spends almost its entire life in these 'twilight zones'. Mating is believed to occur in summer or early fall, when male salamanders begin to seek out females by tracking their pheromones. Once a male finds a potential mate, he nudges her and rubs his chin on her head until she indicates she's receptive. At that point she straddles his tail while the two walk in tandem. The male then drops a spermatophore-- a sack full of sperm-- on the ground, and the female picks it up with her cloaca. The female lays a clutch of 5 to 120 eggs, but not until several months after fertilization between September and February.

The eggs take about 20 days to hatch, and larvae entirely aquatic, complete with gills and webbed fingers. Individuals can take anywhere from 6 to 18 months to fully develop, at which point they leave the water and become fully nocturnal. However, most individuals don't stray far from their original spawning territory, and adults do not maintain or defend set territories.

Despite their reclusive lifestyle, cave salamanders are quite striking. Adults are bright orange or red with black spots, and can be anywhere from 10 to 20 cm (4 to 8 in) in length. Over half of that length is taken up by the tail, and males have a longer tail than females. As lungless salamanders, E. lucifuga breathes through its skin and the tissues around its mouth-- while useful for an aquatic animal, this type of respiration makes it essential that the cave salamander remains in a wet environment.

Both larvae and adults are insectivorous, consuming a number of invertebrates including spiders, snails, beetles, earthworms, and ticks. Potential predators of the spotted salamander include bats, shrews, racoons, and snakes, though few specifics are known about the species' ecology. To deter these predators, E. lucifuga adopts a defensive posture in which they coil their body and wave their tail over their head. In addition, they secrete a foul-tasting substance from their skin, and their bright coloration likely warns potential predators that they won't make a good meal.

Conservation status: The IUCN has classified the cave salamander as Least Concern, although they are listed as Endangered in several of the American states in which they occur. The greatest threat to the species is thought to be human disturbance or habitat degredation from pollution of the water systems which flow through the caves where E. lucifuga resides.

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Photos

Todd Pierson

Michael Graziano

[hunnylagoon]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐔𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥

Chapter One: Be Nice To Me

The Last of Us AU

I barely remember my own name for I am no longer human enough to have one.

Premise: The flames of the campfire fizzled out entirely while Ellie Williams was unknowingly enduring what was the beginning of the end. Following short after, Ellie begins to develop unnatural tendencies that terrify both her and Joel, leaving the two of them to learn what it means to no longer be human.

Warnings: violence / gore if you squint / upcoming angst / weird ass behaviour

I’ve got boulders on my shoulders, collarbones begin to crack. There is very little left of me and it’s never coming back.

Jackson was a small town with little to do if you were a teenager, so the seventeen-year-old residents favoured a drive to Cindersnap forest just on the outskirts to chug back beer and complain every little thing that nipped at their minds. The night sky was so clear that you could count every star, and the air was filled with the scent of pine and the earthy aroma of the forest.

These yearly camping trips shifted in nature when Jesse and Dina got together. Ellie appreciated that they would let her tag along with them but she couldn't help the slight bitterness that crept into her thoughts when she watched the two of them whisper and giggle in hushed tones. It was no different around a campfire than in the school cafeteria or the back of her geography class.

Jesse's playlist hummed softly through an old speaker while Dina stood up, plunging her hand into the cooler to pull out a can of the shittiest beer they could find. "Guys, watch," She spoke, calling the attention over to herself before she punctured a small hole into the bottom of the beer can, cracked the top open and chugged. Dina was far from loving the flavour but drank nonetheless until beer dribbled down her chin and onto her bright red hoodie. 

"Was that meant to be impressive?" Ellie asked but she couldn't fight the smile on her face.

"Yeah, because you can out-drink the shotgun queen," Dina sunk back into her foldable lawn chair, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Who gave you that title?" Jesse looked to his right to face his girlfriend.

"Sarah McKinnon, April twenty-third," She announced, very matter of factly.

"Didn't realize we were carbon dating," Ellie pushed herself off the log she had been perched on for the last hour while she stared across the fire pit at her two friends through flames the colour of tangerine. "Alright, shotgun queen," She teased Dina, grabbing a beer from the cooler and holding her hand out for the pocket knife "I fear this is the day you get dethroned."

She sucked a sharp breath through her teeth, reaching into the pocket of her hoodie for the blade "I fear you are very mistaken."

Jesse raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You sure you can handle it, Williams?"

Ellie shot him a defiant look, popping the can and preparing to pierce it with the pocket knife. As she positioned the knife, the metal gave way too quickly, and the blade slipped past the can, cutting into her palm. "Fuck," She hissed in pain but simply switched the hand holding the beer can, wiping her bloody laceration onto her denim shorts. 

"Jeez," Dina said, a crease forming between her brows as she watched the blood soak into Ellie's shorts "Might wanna back down."

Ellie ignored her and sunk the blade into the can which sprayed its foamy contents into the fire before she quickly stopped the eruption by attaching her lips to the puncture and guzzling it back, tilting her head upwards to the moon. She crushed the empty can in her hand, smiling victoriously. "What do we think?" She asked "New queen?"

"Debatable, one of us cut their hand open and the other is perfectly intact," Dina held out her palm, expectantly "I'm taking away your knife privileges for the night, you are still permitted to drink beer like a regular human."

"Jesse?" Ellie looked toward the drowsy man, he pulled his hood over his head and leaned back with his arms crossed.

"I hate to say it Dina's got a pretty strong argument," 

"Wow," Ellie drew out "Not a shred of honesty around here."

"Please enlighten me," Dina says, leaning forward, elbows propped on her knees "How was butchering yourself better than my perfect chug?"

She was nearly offended that she had to explain herself "Uh, because I'm gonna have a sick ass scar and I cut myself and kept going."

"That was pretty badass," Jesse nodded.

"Yeah, sure," Dina scoffed though her tone was light-hearted "I expect you to write me an apology song for getting blood on my knife but I'll also accept gift cards."

"Too bad I will not be doing either of those things," Ellie wrapped her flannel higher around her body. She held her bleeding hand out in front of her, watching the red liquid pool out and drip down.

Jesse caught onto this small act "Does it hurt?"

"Nah," Ellie looked up at the pair, flyaways had fallen out from her ponytail and framed her freckled face "I should probably call it a night though." She could feel eyes on her as she rose to her feet, awkwardly holding her hand out so she didn't wreck her clothes further. Part of her wanted to stay up until the morning light hung overhead but the more rational half of her brain kindly reminded her that the last time she was tipsy by a fire she lit the cuffs of her pyjama pants on fire and had to endure the jokes to that very day.

"Goodnight," Jesse readjusted in his chair, tugging on his hoodie strings to tighten the hood clinging around his head.

"Night, Els," Dina gave her a little smile, scootching her chair closer to Jesse.

It would've been nice if they thought ahead enough to bring bandaids but alas, Ellie had to pour some water from her plastic bottle over it and let the cut encrust with a scab. Though the campsite was barren that night, usually, she could hear the sounds of families and couples chatting amongst themselves but then it had only been crickets chirping between blades of grass and the distant sound of her two friends laughing.

It wasn't rocket science to remember where they pitched their tents, it was the same every time they visited the sight: right next to the wood-splitting block, a red axe wedged in the center for whoever needed to cut firewood. 

She paused, her senses sharpening. The habitual sounds of crickets and rustling leaves seemed to have stilled. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as if responding to an unseen presence. Ellie turned her head slowly, scanning the darkness. She couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were on her, watching from the concealment of the trees.

Without waiting another beat, Ellie ducked into her tent, bright yellow and a stark contrast to the black one that Dina and Jesse would be sharing. That was another thing she hadn't been fond of when the couple started dating, they used to share one big tent to simply sleep under the stars but now that they were separated Ellie was still kept awake by the pair's constant flow of conversation.

Ellie didn't bother to change out of her flannel, all she did was take her bloodied shorts off and slip into a pair of clean sweatpants. She wasn't one to be neurotic over what she wore, especially when she was camping and the only ones to behold her were the beedy eyes of animals. 

She lay in her sleeping bag, nestled within the comforting embrace of her tent, a duffle bag propped under her head as a makeshift pillow. The day had been long and filled with hours of roaming around the woods and eating smoked hotdogs by the lake. As the night dragged on, Ellie's weariness grew, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Despite her unease, sleep eventually claimed her, and she drifted into a fitful slumber.

It was nearby rustling that had woken her. She heard it then, pounding against the beaten dirt ground, at first Ellie had assumed it to be either Jesse or Dina until she checked her phone and saw the time read two thirty-seven am. Looking at the thin walls of her tent she was searching for the warm surge of light peaking through that signalled her two friends were still at the fire though all that shone was dim moonlight, no sign the pair were even in the vicinity.

A low, menacing snarl, so deep it reverberated through her bones. The sound was close, too close. Her breath hitched, and her heart pounded in her chest. She could barely make out the shape of something moving just beyond the circle of light cast by the moonlight, a hulking shadow blending into the darkness and dancing on the canvas of her tent. 

With the sound of a guttural growl, her heart lurched in her chest. Fear shot through her veins like ice as she realized she was no longer alone in the darkness of her tent. She scrambled to sit up, her hand instinctively reaching for the zipper to flee, but before she could even make a move, a massive weight crashed into her. A muzzle with jagged black rotting gums tore through the yellow polyester tent.

Pain exploded in her thigh as sharp teeth sank into her flesh, tearing through fabric and skin alike. Ellie screamed, her voice drowned out by the ferocious growls of the creature attacking her. She fought back desperately, kicking and flailing, but its grip was unrelenting, its strength overwhelming.

Through the haze of agony and panic, Ellie caught a glimpse of yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness, filled with primal hunger and fury. It was a wolf, its fur matted and stained the colour of a rusted penny with dried and crusted blood, a creature driven by instinct and desperation. It was unsettlingly large, it’s haunches muscular.

It had felt like every part of her leg was torn apart, fangs clamping down in a new spot every time to get a good grasp of its prey. It was like someone was using a dull axe to butcher her, an axe so dull you had to muster up all of your brute force to make an impact and whoever was wielding the axe wasn't a skilled woodsman, their cuts were messy and they never landed in the same spot. Ellie was sure this would be it for her, dead in the Cindersnap forest, her remains never to be found, discarded in her ruin of a tent until animals picked apart her dead carcass. 

Her mind raced, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she fought for her life. She clawed at the ground as the wolf began to drag her away from the tattered wreckage, her nails leaving marks on the ground as cried out. She could feel her strength waning, her vision blurring as darkness threatened to consume her.

Just when she was ready to end her thrashing and let herself be eaten alive, a flurry of movement and shouts echoed from nearby. Through the haze of pain, Ellie heard Jesse and Dina's voices, their cries filled with fear and urgency. They had heard her screams, and now they were screaming themselves. 

Jesse didn't wait another second before he pulled the red axe from the wood-splitting block, he raised it over his head as he had practiced for years of cutting logs and brought it down onto the spine. The wolf let out a yelp, its body contracting, teeth scraping over Ellie's calf as it turned its attention to Jesse. 

He didn't want to take the risk that it would take its turn at him or Dina, so he swung again, hitting it in the neck. Jesse's grip had slipped from the handle, letting the axe sink into the neck, the wolf staggered and whined. It growled low for a few moments that stretched into eternity until its abnormally large body collapsed on the ground over the top of Ellie. She could hear its ragged breath, see the life slipping from its amber eyes as its sanguine blood pooled over her. 

Everyone waited for the animal to go limp but it just writhed there until Jesse used his foot to repeatedly kick the beast until it rolled off Ellie, he pulled the axe out and swung again, this time it fell flaccid, with no more unsteady rise in its chest. Just stillness.

"What the fuck!" Dina shouts, her arms thrown out in front of her in exasperation, eyes pulled wide by the terror before her.

Dina ducked down, hooking one of Ellie's arms around her, urging Jesse to grab his car keys from his bag. In a short amount of time, both of them were on either side of her, supporting Ellie while they practically hauled her to Jesse's truck, leaving everything behind.

Both Dina and Jesse were speaking affirmation into her ears, trying to reassure her that this memory would long pass them but everything just rang in her head, mind going numb. 

She couldn't focus on anything other than the bloody mass that consumed her leg. Long serrated wounds and sunken teeth markings lined all the way up her leg, from the scrapes on her thigh to the flab of flesh on her calf that was being held together only by tendons. She finally released the sob that was building in her throat, it was like every awful thing she had ever felt was seeping through the gaps of her teeth. 

Looking down at her clothes soaked in blood that wasn't one hundred percent hers and clung to her body she saw her future slipping away. The soccer scholarships she had put everything towards gone in the span of the few minutes that it took the wolf to maul her.

They reached the car, and Jesse opened the back door while Dina carefully eased Ellie into the seat, trying to keep pressure on her wounds. Blood stained the seats, but that was the least of their concerns. Jesse jumped into the driver's seat, starting the engine with shaking hands. Dina climbed in beside Ellie, never taking her eyes off her friend and gently caressing her head with wiry hands intended to soothe.

Inside her head, thoughts rang through like bullets, each coming faster and more panicked than the last. She couldn't look at Dina or the street lights gliding past them, it was just Ellie staring at her near mangled leg. She couldn't even hear her heart beat like it was a prisoner to her rib cage. She closed her eyes, clamping them and trying to wake up from this terribly painful nightmare but there it was burned into the forefront of her brain, the wolf with rotten gums and jagged teeth digging into her leg and peering into her head with those loathsome yellow eyes. 

"Ellie?"

Ellie groaned and blinked several times, trying to get her eyes to readjust to the stark light flooding into her bedroom from the hallway. It had been three days since the mauling and Ellie was more than happy to seclude herself so she could avoid those pitiful stares from the public.

Joel stopped in the doorway as his eyes hit the darkness of the room. The first sign that something was really wrong was just how dark it was. There were blankets up over the windows, blocking out any trace of daylight that might be able to bleed its way in. In the blackness, as his eyes adjusted, he could see her in the middle of her bed, blankets pulled to her neck despite the warm weather, facing away from him, staring at nothing.

"Kiddo, are you sure you don't want me to take the day off?" He furrowed his eyebrows, studying the limp figure of his daughter. She had been in the exact same position when he came into her room the night before.

"Yes."

His eyes shifted to the plate of food he had left on her dresser last night before he went back to the dining table to eat his dinner alone. The pasta was untouched, the sauce became gelatinous, and everything in the bowl just stuck together as one thing. With a disgruntled sigh, Joel took the cold bowl of pasta and replaced it with warm French toast and a little side of syrup. "Ellie, you gotta eat something."

"Okay." She had been saying that for the last three days, agreeing with whatever Joel asked of her without actually doing it. This included showering, her auburn hair was greasy and unkept in a ponytail. The gauze wrapped around her leg and tucked beneath the splint was beginning to smell like vinegar.  "I mean it," He said firmly "It doesn't gotta be this breakfast, you can go downstairs and get something from the fridge or ask Dina to bring some takeout, maybe Tommy and Maria could come over and cook ya something. Some sunlight wouldn't hurt either."

"Okay," Ellie repeated, voice mellow. Had there been another source of noise in the room Joel wouldn't have heard her at all.

The animosity simmers for a minute while Joel regards her with fretful eyes "Is it the painkillers?" He asked "Or the antibiotics? We can try a smaller dosage."

The figure on the bed looks lifeless, had she not spoken to him moments prior, Joel would've assumed the worst. She only been released from the hospital the morning before and she had spent her entire time back home staring at her wall like a blood-sniffing shark.

"I can't sleep," She said, voice flat. "I'm so tired and I can't sleep."

"Do you want me to grab some melatonin?" 

"No."

"Maybe if you got out of bed for a bit it would tire you out."

"Please just go away."

Joel pressed his lips into a thin line, lowering his chin in the slightest "I'm gonna head out now, just thought I'd come to say hi," He waited a moment for Ellie to respond then waited another, accepting the stillness he spoke again "I'll be home at three, maybe we can cook dinner together."

"I just want to sleep."

"Alright," He turned "I'll let ya sleep."

It had been seventy-six hours since Ellie last slept, a moment before she was dragged out of her tent and chewed up like gum between a heavy jaw. She had spent the first two days gazing up at the obscenely bright hospital ceiling, the lights burned her retinas but she couldn't look away. 

In the hospital, she had refused to eat when the nurses insisted she had thrown up her guts and they decided that a drip feed would be mandatory. If only she could sleep or drink. The insomnia was worse than the thirst. It was driving her mad. It had been days, full, entire days since she had slept.

 She was afraid to look in the mirror or at the camera of her phone because she had an idea of the gaunt face that would be looking back at her and the vague idea mortified her. 

On the fourth night from the mauling, something had begun to seethe inside of Ellie, she shot up, drenched in sweat. Her body felt as if it were on fire, a searing heat coursing through her veins. She threw off her blankets in a desperate attempt to cool down, but the air in her room was no relief. The heat radiating through her body was so intense it felt like there were bugs crawling beneath her skin, burrowing and laying their eggs before they chewed their way out. 

She stumbled out of bed, her legs shaky and weak, barely supporting her weight. Her skin felt raw and tender, the sensation unbearable. Instinctively, she began to scratch, her nails digging into her arms, trying to soothe the burning that seemed to radiate from within. The throbbing pain from her leg had been subdued by the fire burning beneath her skin.

Ellie began to scrape the skin on her forearms, followed by her neck, torso and legs, everything was stinging with this scolding sensation. She had gashed at her skin frantically, twisting her body and clawing at it in an attempt to make it stop, all that this did was turn her skin red and leave nail marks across it. 

Summoning all her strength, Ellie crawled to the bathroom. She pulled herself up to the sink, using the counter for support, and then, with determination for this to end, she stumbled into the shower.

She turned the handle to the coldest setting and, without a second thought, stepped under the icy spray, fully clothed. The shock of the cold water took her breath away, but it also brought immediate relief. The burning sensation began to fade as the cold water soaked through her clothes, cooling her fevered skin.

Ellie leaned against the tiled wall, letting the cold water wash over her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, but she felt her body temperature slowly beginning to drop. The pain and burning subsided to a dull ache, and for the first time in what felt like hours, she could think clearly. 

Without meaning to she let out a choked cry, hands running down her face while she looked down at her body. The splint was now soaked with ice water and the red scratch marks covering almost every inch of bare skin visible. 

Ellie stood there, her mind foggy and overwhelmed by the fever. She had no idea what was happening to her body, why it was betraying her in such a painful way. The room spun around her, shadows dancing on the walls, and she fought to stay conscious, fearing what might happen if she let go. Suddenly the concept of sleep was feeling very frightening.

On the fifth night, Ellie had hobbled her way down the stairs, splint dragging behind her after Joel had told her he was worried and went to bed. She was driving herself insane, she could hear her own heartbeat and the wet squelch of her blinking pounding in her ears.

Her thoughts often returned to the shotgun in the shed. She craved death in the same way she used to crave a Gatorade at a track meet. She was loyal to her numbness like a penny in the pocket of a priest. 

She hadn't before thought about killing herself, not until she had been kept awake for five days by the image of glowing amber eyes ripping her apart. Something was most definitely wrong with her body. She knew the very second she looked in the mirror, past her baggy clothes her collarbones had jutted out and her ribcage was prominent beneath freckled skin. How her spine grated against everything she laid across would have almost any other person in a ward.

Joel's casual steps in the hallway had morphed in her ears to the sound of heavy boots stomping on sheets of metal. The night was preferable to the day when children would run through the streets and throw water balloons at each other on neighbours' lawns. Each screeching laugh she heard brought her closer to hammering nails into her ears just so she could avoid those little sounds.

It didn't help that she could smell everything too. Joel's morning coffee was usually the scent that kept her awake staring at the ceiling followed by all of his wallflowers which she had taken the liberty of unplugging and hiding in the shed next to the shotgun. She had also sniffed out her almost ancient body sprays from middle school and thrown them out, it had taken her minutes to source out the smell that was burning in her nose.

What brought her downstairs that night had been her appetite, intense and sinking. She was sure hunger would have killed her. Five days of an empty stomach that rejected everything she put into it ended with a brief shaking moment where she was filled with an insatiable craving that hit her all at once like a thousand knives to the gut.  

During one of Joel's daily checkups, he informed her that he bought ribeye steaks and suggested they have a mini barbeque with Tommy and Maria but Ellie did little more than sink further into the mattress where she had rotted. It was clear with every passing second that something was deeply wrong with Ellie at first she chalked it up to side effects from all the anti-biotics and painkillers and insisted to Joel that was the only issue but with her smell and hearing overwhelmingly strong she was sure the problem was something more unnatural. 

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery light through the kitchen window. Ellie stood at the stove, the sizzle of the steak in the cast-iron skillet filling the quiet house. The aroma of searing meat was intoxicating, stirring a deep, hunger within her. She tried to ignore the gnawing craving that had plagued her since the transformation, but tonight it was particularly strong.

The house was quiet, but her senses, now heightened beyond the norm, picked up the smallest sounds. She could hear the soft creak of the house settling, the distant hum of a car engine on the road, and something else—something closer.

Her ears twitched at the faint sound of soft footsteps outside. She focused, and the noise became clearer. Tiny, deliberate steps on the wooden porch, accompanied by a rapid, almost fluttering heartbeat. A cat.

On the patio, she could hear the neighbour's overweight calico cat, Fudge. He favoured the Miller household on the nights the Andersons fell asleep before letting him inside. She could hear his little paws padding up the wooden steps and then find his perch on the rails of the patio that Joel renovated himself, they were sturdy enough to support the pudgy cat. 

She turned her attention to meticulously seasoning the steak, her movements precise and controlled, a desperate attempt to hold on to the rational part of her. As the meat cooked, she watched it intently, the marbling of fat melting into the rich, red flesh. The scents were overwhelming, and she swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure. She stood right in front of it, counting down the seconds she had to cook it.

Compared to Joel, Ellie was awful at cooking meat. He prided himself on his barbeque skills, one of his most valued possessions was his meat smoker and the thoughts of warm July days, sitting on the back porch and eating whatever Joel had cooked made her eyes gloss over with craving. 

After a few minutes, Ellie flipped the steak, listening to the satisfying crackle as it hit the hot pan. Her mouth watered, and her senses were alive with the sounds and smells of cooking. She focused on the task, grounding herself in the familiar routine, hoping it would keep the feeling at bay.

Once the steak was perfectly cooked to a rare finish, she plated it carefully, adding a simple garnish of herbs for no other reason besides she thought it looked fancy. She carried the plate to the dining table, her steps measured and deliberate. She wanted to eat like she used to, to enjoy a meal with dignity and grace, but the primal hunger was a constant, roaring presence in the back of her mind.

Ellie sat down, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She cut the first piece of steak, the juices running onto the plate, and brought it to her lips. The taste was incredible, a burst of flavour that seemed to ignite every nerve in her body. She closed her eyes, savouring it, trying to hold on to this semblance of normalcy.

But with each bite, the hunger grew stronger. It was a living thing, a beast clawing its way to the surface. Her hands trembled as she cut another piece, the silverware clinking loudly against the plate. Her entire body shook as she raised another piece to her mouth, eyes focused on the slab of meat with an untamed desire. 

Unable to resist any longer, Ellie dropped the fork and knife. She reached for the steak with her bare hands, the warm meat pulsing in her grip. She brought it to her mouth, tearing into it with a ferocity that shocked her. Juices ran down her chin, and she barely noticed, lost in the primal act of feeding.

She devoured the steak, her senses overwhelmed by the taste, the texture, and the sheer satisfaction of fulfilling her deepest hunger. It was messy, undignified, and utterly freeing.

When the steak was gone, Ellie sat back, her breathing heavy, her hands and face smeared with the remnants of her meal, juices from her bloody steak dripping down her arms and chin. She bordered between a mix of shame and relief.

Ellie stared down at her empty plate. She was sick. Sick with the hole in her stomach that screamed at her for more, slowly it began to grow.

She rose from the table, her movements now driven by instinct rather than conscious thought. Crossing the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator door, the cold air washing over her. Her eyes scanned the contents hungrily. There, in the pull out meat drawer, were several packets of lunch meat. She grabbed the first one, ripping it open with ease. It was roast beef, and she shoved slices into her mouth, barely chewing before swallowing. The taste was salty, a little too salty yet she still choked it back.

Next, she pulled out a packet of pepperoni, her fingers working frantically to tear it open. The rich, spicy scent hit her nose, making her mouth water. She devoured the entire pack in seconds, the flavours bursting on her tongue, she discarded the plastic packaging on the floor. She reached for more, tearing through packages of ham and turkey, ripping them open effortlessly with her teeth, the cold cuts vanishing almost as quickly as she could open them.

But even after consuming all the lunch meat, she wasn't near satiated. Her gaze fell upon a package of raw chicken breasts. A part of her recoiled at the thought, but the urge overrode any hesitation. She snatched the package, ripping it open, the raw meat cool and slick in her hands. She brought a piece to her mouth, hesitating only for a moment before biting into it. The taste was different, raw and unseasoned, it was delicious.

Ellie ate piece after piece, the raw chicken disappearing into her ravenous maw. She didn't understand the compulsion, the gnawing hunger that drove her to this. The raw meat was smooth and slippery against her teeth, leaving a small coating of gel on her lips. The sensation was alien and unnerving, yet she couldn't stop herself from biting down.

When the last piece was gone, she stood in the dim light of the open refrigerator, her breathing ragged, as she stared at the empty meat drawer. 

She walked to the sink and began to wash her hands and face, the cold water a shock against her skin, grounding her once more in the reality of her situation. She watched as the water ran red, the remnants of her raw feast swirling down the drain. When she was clean, she dried her hands and looked at her reflection in the kitchen window, the moonlight casting her features in a pale glow. The mess she had made, juice from animal carcasses dribbling down her chin and her pale green eyes seemingly brighter than ever. 

Ellie wanted to be terrified by her actions but the truth was that it was the leading cause for her to finally fall asleep when her head hit the pillow. It was also the reason why she woke up the next morning feeling amazing. 

She was up even before Joel. After wrapping her splint in a plastic bag to keep it dry, she stepped into the shower, letting warm water run over her skin. The last few days she felt too weak to even carry her own weight and now she could see the muscle of her skin like she had just gone for a run and they were still burning.

Closing her eyes she gently washed away at the grease of her scalp with her head and shoulders shampoo and scrubbed at her skin with body wash until the smell of the previous night's binge was gone completely. 

For a few minutes, she felt almost at peace until she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Last night's rampage had been undeniably weird but she kept coming up with new excuses for her behaviour. With extensive googling she found out she wasn't the only one to crave meat so intensely, it was a symptom of malnutrition and while she knew that couldn't be it she tried to accept the coverup to repeat to herself. 

Using her forearm, she wiped the steam from the mirror. She looked at her reflection, expecting to see the familiar face she'd always known. But something was different. She leaned closer, frowning at the sight of her eyes, which seemed to have strange, golden flecks over her usually pale green iris. Shaking her head, she dismissed it as a trick of the light.

She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste, eager to complete her morning routine. As she squeezed the toothpaste onto the brush, she caught a glimpse of her teeth in the mirror. She paused, her heart skipping a beat. Her teeth looked sharper and more prominent.

Ellie dropped the toothbrush into the sink, her eyebrows furrowed as she brought unsteady hands up to her mouth. She ran her fingers over her teeth, feeling the unmistakable points of her canines, now lengthened into fangs. It wasn't real, it couldn't be. Maybe her teeth had always looked like that. She pressed her finger into the canine until it drew blood. 

A wave of panic washed over her. She opened her mouth wider, examining the fangs from different angles. They were not the teeth of a human—they were the teeth of a predator. 

It felt like her blood had run cold. Maybe she was turning into a vampire, she remembered watching those corny series about teen girls sprouting fangs and drinking blood. There were werewolves, she had been bitten by a feral beast and barely escaped with her life. 

She never even believed in myths and legends, it felt all too ridiculous to even consider the possibility. 

Ellie hurriedly pulled on clean clothes, the shock of seeing her fangs still reverberating through her mind. Determined, she went downstairs and perched herself at the dining table. She sat hunched over with her phone out in front of her, an absurd amount of unanswered texts that she didn't plan on responding to. Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard. What was she even looking for? Strange teeth growth? Uncontrollable hunger?

She took a deep breath and started with a simple search: 'sudden appearance of fangs'

The results were varied and mostly unhelpful—articles on dental anomalies, vampire fiction, fang cosmetic procedures, teeth shaving, and clickbait about dental surgery gone wrong. Ellie scrolled past these, her frustration mounting. 

She tried another search: 'uncontrollable hunger for raw meat'

This search yielded more unusual results. Articles about rare medical conditions and eating disorders that favoured odd cravings. But also folklore and myths about creatures that fed on raw flesh. She clicked on a few links, her eyes scanning quickly over the text.

One phrase kept popping up: 'lycanthropy.' Her heart pounded as she typed the word into the search bar.

Pages upon pages of information about werewolves appeared. She read through them, her disbelief battling with the mounting evidence. Accounts of transformations triggered by bites, the phases of the moon influencing behaviour, the insatiable hunger for raw meat—all of it sounded disturbingly familiar.

She stumbled onto forums full of people discussing what they would do if they were a werewolf, how they transformed and who would they kill. There were others posting about their favourite horror movies based on werewolves, an entire article about Remus Lupin. She hesitated, then searched for 'werewolf bite symptoms' There wasn't anything useful that she had read. 

All she had were three of dozens of symptoms. Ellie didn't have weird hair growth, super strength, claws, or abnormal aggression. Typing in werewolves onto Google she was met with a subreddit full of discussion. Ellie began writing out her issue, ready to air her weird behaviour to equally weird strangers on the internet who might offer up some answers. 

astronautical: I think I might be a werewolf- Okay, I know I sound really fucking stupid saying that but please just listen to me. Last week I was on a camping trip and was pulled out of my tent and mauled by a wolf, the first three days in the hospital they had to drip feed me because I wouldn't eat and when I got home it was more or less the same. I didn't sleep since the attack until last night after I binge-ate raw meat and dead ass when I woke up my canines were fangs. A couple nights ago I had a weird hot flash kinda thing but I'm far from menopause, it was like my skin was on fire. My hearing and smell is crazy strong, like I can hear the heartbeat of my neighbour's cat. Can someone please tell me if they have experience with werewolf stuff or if there's another medical issue this could point to? I'm not crazy, I swear. 

xHexical: honestly sounds like rabies 

hunnylagoon: bro thinks they're teen wolf 

cocoah00ves: This could be purely psychological. A lot of times animal attacks can cause trauma even if you don't realize it. PTSD can put you on edge which could be why you're hearing and sense of smell seem to be very strong, trouble sleeping and lack of appetite are other symptoms. If you really restricted food for a few days then your body was likely suffering from iron deficiency and was telling you to eat meat. The heat flash could've been caused by your injury and enunciated by your mental state. As for the canines, hallucination, your teeth are not as sharp as you think they are. 

zylez: Mate you have rabies 

aggravating_olive_38: I wish this was real bc it would be sick asf

littlethought63: This that girl from Wyoming? 

schumber: You mentioned a lack of sleep and that might be causing you to spiral a bit. Take some sleeping pills and mellow out. 

dazednaware: I think it's a PTSD response :( try therapy 

     mcwhoremick-responding to dazednaware: try getting some dick you dumb cunt

          dazednaware-responding to mcwhoremick: ???

multifandomtrash258: friendly reminder this subreddit is intended for discussion of werewolves, not fictional stories or roleplay accounts

With an exasperated groan, Ellie turned her phone off and put it face down on the table just as she heard Joel thumping down the stairs. She felt like her brain had rotten entirely, there was no way she had seriously considered that she was a werewolf.

"Wow," Joel said, one hand up his gray t-shirt and scratching his back "You're up."

"Yeah," She tried for a smile but it still came across as melancholic, it was hardly a smile just lips pressed together in a thin line that carried the ghost of one.

"Well-uh, ya' want breakfast?" He asks in a beeline for the coffee maker, pulling out a mug from the cupboard which reads 'Worlds greatest farter (I mean father)' Ellie thought the corniness of it was hilarious and gifted it to him just a month earlier on Father's Day.

"Sure, if you make bacon." 

Joel was a little taken aback that she was finally accepting the invitation to breakfast. He was shocked that she even had an appetite albeit thankful "Sure, kid." He left his mug beneath the coffee maker, as he waited for it to fill he went into the fridge to retrieve the bacon. He opened the fridge, his brow furrowing in confusion as he scanned the shelves. "Ellie, where did that chicken go?"

Ellie's heart skipped a beat, panic rising in her chest. She hadn't thought about the consequences of her meat-eating binge the night before. "Um, yeah, I got pretty hungry last night," She kept her voice as nonchalant as possible. 

"You ate all of it?" His eyebrows furrowed slightly, newly mourning the loss of his forty-dollar pack of chicken. 

"Yup," She was just thankful he hadn't noticed the missing steak and lack of lunch meat. 

 "I'm glad you're eating but Jesus Christ girl," he muttered "Next time don't eat us outta house and home."

Joel expertly flipped the bacon in the skillet, the sizzle of fat hitting the hot surface and filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma. The savoury scent drifted through the air, tempting Ellie's senses as she watched her father work his culinary magic. The smell of the bacon worked to conceal the stench of coffee that Ellie despised. "How many pieces do you want?" He asked her.

She craned her neck up to look at the bacon frying on the pan "Whatever's left."

His brows shot up, wrinkled creases forming on his head. This wasn't the first time Ellie had some odd eating tendencies, when they had first met and she was still in the foster system, she felt too out of place to eat. Once again when she was fourteen and starting high school, she lost all appetite, only picking apart her meals and leaving almost a full plate. Had she not starved herself for five days, Joel would've said something other than "Alright."

As soon as the bacon was cooked to crispy perfection, Joel transferred it to a plate lined with paper towels to drain. He turned to the stove, cracking eggs into the same skillet, the eggs sizzling in the bacon grease. He slid slices of bread into the toaster, the anticipation of a delicious breakfast filling the kitchen.

Ellie's stomach growled impatiently as she watched the food being prepared. The hunger that had plagued her for days now surged back with a vengeance, the scent of the bacon driving her wild with craving. She tried to resist, tried to focus on the eggs and toast that would make a complete breakfast, but her attention was fixated on the plate of bacon. "What are gonna do this summer?" Joel asked. She had intended to work her job at the movie theatre and plan the rest of the summer around that but with her leg torn up she couldn't possibly stand for hours on end, she could hardly walk. 

"I dunno," When Joel placed the plate of bacon on the table, Ellie's restraint snapped. Without a word, she lunged forward, snatching a piece of bacon and devouring it in a single bite. She barely registered the hot grease burning her lips as she reached for another piece, and then another.

Joel watched in surprise as Ellie wolfed down the bacon with alarming speed, barely pausing to chew before reaching for more. He opened his mouth to speak, concern etched on his face, but Ellie ignored him, her focus solely on the plate of meat before her. "Maybe pick up a new hobby?"

The eggs finished cooking, and Joel plated them alongside the toast, but Ellie barely spared them a glance. Her attention was consumed by the bacon, her hunger driving her to eat faster and faster, as if afraid it would disappear if she slowed down.

By the time Joel sat down across from her, his own plate in hand, Ellie had already polished off nearly half of the bacon. She barely acknowledged him as he began to eat, her eyes fixed on the remaining strips of meat.

Joel watched her with growing concern, the realization dawning on him that something wasn't right. "Ellie, slow down," he said, voice firm. "You're going to make yourself sick."

"Sorry," She halfheartedly spoke through a mouthful. 

"Christ," He muttered under his breath, taking a long swig of coffee "What's the plan for today?"

She shrugged "Sleep, I guess." 

He wished Ellie would do anything other than lay in bed and wilt away. Even if she just sat on the porch, he would be grateful.  "You should invite Dina over, she's been wanting to see you."

"Yeah, I know," Ellie's damp hair clung around her neck while she reached forward for more bacon. 

"Are you two fighting?"

"No."

"So what's going on?"

"Nothing, I just feel like shit and want to be alone." 

"Okay," he pressed his lips into a thin line, bringing his mug to his lips while he watched Ellie devour the rest of the bacon, paying no mind to the eggs or the toast. She finished her meal with a large glass of water that she chugged back in mere seconds before plopping herself on the couch and scrolling on her phone. 

As glad as he was to see that his daughter had finally showered and eaten, he had that deep lingering feeling in his gut that something had shifted inside of her. He feared that she wouldn't be the same without soccer or prospects on the horizon. 

While Joel was at work, Ellie had the bright idea of watching werewolf movies to gain some kind of grasp on whatever was happening. She refused to believe it was purely psychological and she was making all of this up in her head.

She started with the classics, fast-forwarding through the filler parts and scrutinizing the beginning when they were bitten and then the transformation. She chewed on a piece of jerky canines separating it with ease, wondering how much of what she was seeing was based on myth and how much might hold a kernel of truth.

Ellie had intended for these movies to be research for her condition, however, she had gotten distracted while watching Twilight and spiralled through the saga. If she really was a werewolf, were there vampires? What about witches? 

Were vampires like Dracula or Edward Cullen? Maybe there was a wide variety of them. It was also a strong possibility that she was suffering from something else like the continuous comments beneath her post suggested.

Rabies didn't click in her head, she had been given a shot almost immediately upon entering the hospital or so she was told. Nothing could rationalize, she was feral at night and that was a fact that she couldn't link to anything aside from insomnia which wasn't known for making people eat raw meat. 

Abruptly she turned the TV off, her thoughts proving to be too overwhelming. She chose to opt for another one of the suggestions under her post, take some sleeping pills and mellow out. It was at three pm Ellie took five sleeping pills and headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Ellie closed the door softly behind her, flicking on the light switch. The harsh brightness of the bathroom light made her squint momentarily, but she forced herself to face the mirror. The reflection staring back at her was both familiar and disturbingly alien.

Ellie parted her lips, feeling her stomach churn with anxiety. She carefully pulled back her upper lip, revealing the source of her dread—her canines were no longer the small, nondescript teeth they had always been. Instead, they had elongated into sharp, pointed fangs, glistening ominously under the bathroom light. It wasn't a hallucination. They were growing even longer than they were that morning.

She turned her head from side to side, examining them from different angles. Her fingers trembled as she touched the tips of her fangs, feeling their razor-sharp edges. It was undeniable; these were not the teeth of a human. 

Tears welled up in her eyes as she grappled with the reality of her transformation. She closed her mouth, trying to make her fangs less noticeable, but the sensation of them pressing against her lower lip was impossible to ignore. 

-

She had successfully slept for seven hours. The moment she woke she had forgotten about her reality until she mistakingly bit her tongue, the taste of iron flooded her mouth and she wanted to cry all over again. 

Ellie lay in bed, her heightened senses picking up the smallest sounds around her. The house was quiet, but outside, she could hear the faint, delicate footsteps of a cat on the porch. The sound was unmistakable: soft pads against the wooden boards, a rapid, fluttering heartbeat. The primal hunger, which she had fought so hard to suppress, flared up once more.

She tried to resist, gripping the sheets tightly. Fudge sat on the spot on the patio that he always favoured. Ellie's hands pressed firmly into her ears as she dug her face into her pillow, trying to ignore the sound of the Anderson's cat stretching and the ravenous knawing inside of her. 

Once again, she was lying in bed and contemplating her own death. She needed whatever this was to go away as fast as possible. She thought she could keep it to herself so she wouldn't have to concern Joel but every passing second her mind flung between crying while she confessed or putting a shotgun in her mouth and pulling the trigger.

Ellie dragged herself out of bed, and moved down the hallway, her eyes lingering on Joel's bedroom door, slightly ajar, he was fast asleep inside. There was a hunger within her, she needed to eat something or she would chew through her own hand.

Back in the kitchen like the night before, there was nothing left for her in the fridge. Ellie moved to the freezer, where more meat awaited. She ripped open a package of chicken breasts, the frozen flesh burning her hands, but she didn't care. She gnawed at them, the icy texture a strange contrast to any other thing she'd consumed. She continued through the freezer, consuming everything she could find: pork chops, sausages, a roast that she chewed on like an animal.

Her fingers claw at the frozen packages of meat. She tore into packs of ground beef and pork chops, barely waiting for them to thaw. The coldness of the meat did little to dampen her fervour. Each bite was a temporary reprieve from the hunger, but it was never enough. Like a nicotine patch, it hardly worked then it was over. 

As the last of the meat disappeared, Ellie stood in the wreckage of her binge, her stomach churning with the mass of food she had consumed. Yet, the carnal hunger persisted, more powerful and demanding than ever. She felt a surge of desperation, a hankering that could not be satisfied by the lifeless offerings of the freezer.

She needed something fresh.

Her heightened senses picked up the faint sound of a heartbeat, the shuffle of tiny paws against the floorboards. Ellie moved to the door, her senses locked onto the cat outside. As she stepped onto the porch, the cat froze, its eyes wide and reflective in the moonlight. It sensed the danger, but it was too late. Ellie's vision sharpened, her hearing intensified, and her muscles coiled like springs. She could hear the Fudge's rapid heartbeat, see the minute twitch of his whiskers, and smell his fear.

Before the cat could react, Ellie lunged. She was fast, much faster than any human could be. Her hands, flexing, grabbed the cat with unerring precision. Fudge yowled, a high-pitched scream of terror, but the sound was cut short as Ellie's teeth sank into its flesh. Warm blood filled her mouth, and the taste sent a shiver of satisfaction through her body.

She tore into the cat with a ferocity that frightened her, the human part of her horrified by what she was doing, yet unable to stop. Ellie was a passenger in her own body. She devoured the cat quickly, the small body offering little resistance as she consumed it entirely, bones crunching under her powerful jaws.

When the last piece was gone, Ellie sat back on her heels, blood dripping from her mouth and hands, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The hunger was finally sated, but the reality of what she had done crashed down on her with overwhelming force. She looked around, dazed, the remnants of the cat scattered around her. The porch was now a scene of carnage.

Tears filled her eyes as she stumbled back inside, slamming the door shut behind her. She rushed to the sink, scrubbing her hands and face frantically, trying to wash away the evidence of her actions. The cold water stung her skin, but it did little to cleanse the horror she felt inside.

Ellie braced herself against the sink, her body shaking with sobs. She had lost control, given in to the craving, and now she was left with the consequences. The taste of blood lingered in her mouth, a bitter reminder of what she had become. Upstairs she could hear Joel shuffling and quickly moved to the sink to wash the blood off her. It was futile, it had covered the bottom half of her face and sunken into her T-shirt and grey sweatshirts.

When Joel reached the bottom of the staircase and saw the numerous empty packets of meat strewn across the kitchen along with the seventeen-year-old frantically wiping at her skin with a dirty dishcloth. Ellie knew Joel was behind her, she could hear his quickened heartbeat. Never had she felt so terrified, she couldn't face Joel and let him see what had soaked into her clothes, all she could do was let out a strangled sound that bordered between a scream and sob. 

"Ellie?" Joel inched closer, one hand gently landing on her shoulder. She dug her face into her collarbone, trying to prolong the inevitable until Joel used his free hand to face her toward him. He staggered back. Joel's eyes widened as he took in the scene before him—the sanguine covering Ellie, the bloodlust burning in her eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke, his words heavy with disbelief.  "What the hell did you do?" 

That was how Ellie Williams spent the first week of her last summer. 

3 new messages

ACCEPT|IGNORE

noahson_tickets: Hey

noahson_tickets: You aren't crazy

noahson_tickets: Werewolves are real

[lichenaday]

Pseudocyphellaria intricata

The rare or endangered species that get the most attention are often the most adorable or charismatic, and humans tend to like things that we can recognize some bit of ourself in. So in that sense, I get why lichens don't get all that much attention. But my goodness, when I look at P. intricata, it looks like a starry night sky or the billowing, cosmic clouds of a nebula or some inexplicably vast yet minute and mysterious galaxy, and I am gazing at in wonder and feeling my own insignificance, and damn if that doesn't make me want to protect it, too. This large, foliose cyanolichen has loosely attached lobes which grow in rosettes or extensive patches up to 20 cm in diameter. The lobes have incised margins covered in a layer of blue-gray soredia, which often spread across the thallus is scattered dots or squiggly lines. The upper surface is gray-brown when moist, red-brown when dry, and the lower surface is beige and tomentose, with scattered pseudocyphella (tiny sunken bald patches). Like many old-growth forest species, populations of P. intricata are on the decline as the humid, costal woodlands it resides in are becoming a thing of the past due to logging, pollution, and climate change. And that makes me sad for a lot of reasons I can't articulate, but so much of it has to do with the destruction of the majestic and wonderful and diverse things of the world in favor of the ordinary and the temporary and the mundane. I don't really know what to do about it, but I think if more of us cared about the tiny infinities growing in the forests, that would be a start, you know?

images: source

info: source | source | source

[another-lost-mc]

When you arrive in the Devildom as part of the student exchange program, you discover their famous AI program isn't what it seems.

feathered friends | karasu x reader

3.8k words | sfw | gn!reader | canon divergence

cw: implied social isolation/loneliness; protective thoughts/behaviours; jealousy; minor blood/violence.

feathered friends (series): part one | part two | part three (nsfw)

When Karasu designed the AI program for the D.D.D., he didn’t expect the higher-ups at the Three-Legged Crow Conglomerate would name it after him. By the time he realized it wasn’t a joke, it was already too late – the KARASU AI was born, and it was his responsibility to maintain it.

He doesn’t attend RAD anymore, but Karasu regularly communicates with Diavolo and Barbatos to ensure that the D.D.D. apps and KARASU AI are designed in correspondence with the Devildom’s long-term goals.

One of Karasu’s responsibilities is to oversee the research and technological development necessary to make communication between the realms more streamlined. In a perfect world, D.D.D. users should be able to use their device and apps outside the Devildom. This was a critical piece of Diavolo’s plan for future students coming from the Celestial Realm and human world to attend RAD.

When the exchange program commences and the students are given D.D.D.s of their own, Karasu oversees their files personally. He tracks their data usage and AI requests to understand how humans and angels interact with Devildom technology. He studies which apps they use the most, and which apps or features they don’t have but might find useful.

Diavolo is most concerned with the types of questions and requests they make of the KARASU AI program. He’s equally concerned about their satisfaction with the Devildom as well as their safety. A newcomer to the Devildom may not have the courage to come forward to a demon about a concern they have, but they might ask the AI instead.

It’s Karasu’s responsibility to sift through the questions and requests the students make while using the AI program. He compiles the data for analysis later, and he forwards any concerning messages to Barbatos or Lucifer directly for follow-up.

Karasu learns quickly that certain students are less capable with technology than others.

From: Karasu@TLC.dev To: Lucifer@RAD.dev CC: Barbatos@RAD.dev

Subject: Exchange Student (Simeon – Purgatory Hall)

Based on the data collected so far, it seems that this student is having difficulty using his D.D.D. properly. Immediate action is recommended to prevent further data corruption.

Thank you.

(Despite his warning, Karasu had to replace Simeon’s D.D.D. after the angel managed to brick the device.)

Out of all the exchange students, you’re the one that interacts with the KARASU AI bot the most. Most of your questions are about human world apps and whether you can access or use them in the Devildom. Even though you can’t – and the AI relays that response to you – Karasu notes what apps you’re trying to access, and whether it’s worth developing Devildom alternatives.

(Karasu chuckles when he reads the logs and sees that you’ve asked for a Devildom version of a VPN to access human world websites - how cute! But no, that’s not possible yet.)

From: Lucifer@RAD.dev To: Karasu@TLC.dev CC: Barbatos@RAD.dev Subject: Request for equipment

Please be advised that I have received a request for a computer from the human exchange student residing in the House of Lamentation. They have been provided with one of RAD’s laptop computers (#302) to use for the duration of their stay.

Karasu is monitoring data at his desk when you start asking the AI bot about setting up your new (borrowed) laptop. He can see the two issues right away: the laptop is an older model that doesn't run very well, and you’re unfamiliar with the Devildom operating system installed on that machine.

Karasu disables the bot and takes over manually so he can type instructions and answer your questions instead. He tells himself that it’ll be less frustrating for you this way. He can imitate the bot’s speech patterns easily since they are based on his own. If anyone questions his decision, he can tell them the simple truth: this is more efficient.

With his help, you get the game you want to play installed and running – barely. But you seem genuinely happy, and you thank him with such gratitude he feels a little flustered. He assumes it’s part of your human nature to talk to a piece of technology like it’s a living being.

(He’s glad that he normally works alone – he doesn’t have to explain the bashful smile on his face to anyone.)

After that, Karasu overrides the AI bot more often so he can interact with you personally. He still tells himself it’s more efficient this way - you have such a curious nature, and he enjoys helping you. He feels like it’s his personal responsibility to make sure you’re able to use his software properly - at least, that’s the plausible explanation he tells himself to justify his unusual interest in you.

It also has nothing to do with your requests about job opportunities, or ways to acquire money to pay for things you seem to be missing.

(He starts monitoring your Akuzon search history to make sure Lucifer is aware of any necessities you might be lacking.)

It definitely has nothing to do with his concern for you, even though you’ve admitted (more than once) that you feel isolated in the Devildom without any contact with your friends or family. Part of him wonders if you interact with the AI bot so often because you’re lonely. Do you feel comfortable talking to him – it – more than the demons you live with?

He thinks about you often and decides there’s no harm letting whatever this is continue. If he feels eager anticipation for the next time you want his help – well, that’s what he’s here for, isn’t it?

Sometimes when you ask the AI bot silly questions, Karasu will give you silly answers. (You have such a nice laugh.)

“Karasu, why does Mammon gamble so much when he’s so bad at it? I think he’s being strung up again…”

KARASU AI: Well, you know what they say – go big, or go home. Unfortunately for Mammon, he goes home to Lucifer.

Karasu doesn’t realize how comfortable he’s gotten speaking to you like this, and he doesn’t realize you’re becoming suspicious of the AI bot. Sometimes the responses you receive are too intuitive, like it can read between the lines of the questions you’re asking. Sometimes it makes witty or sarcastic remarks that feel too real.

You know technology has come a long way, but you doubt even the Devildom’s AI is capable of reproducing sentient conversation the way the KARASU AI does. When you borrow the angels’ phones to compare your bot responses to the ones Luke and Simeon receive, you know there’s something strange going on.

“Karasu, you’re not really a bot, are you?”

KARASU AI: …do you want me to be?

“I would feel better knowing that someone I talk to on a regular basis is a real live demon, instead of a fake one that lives inside my phone.”

He’s caught off-guard by your confession. He’s an old demon, well-known and respected within the Devildom for his work, but he’s not very sociable. He has many acquaintances but no one he would consider a friend. Perhaps the hope of friendship is the true motivation that’s kept him interested in you this whole time?

Whatever the reason is, Karasu accesses the Contacts directory on your D.D.D. profile and adds his own personal contact information. He feels bad for deceiving you, and he sends you a message with a heartfelt apology. You seem so excited to be talking to him - the real him - that his guilt doesn’t last for very long.

You: Since your name is Karasu, won’t that confuse the bot if I’m trying to talk to you instead?

Karasu: I admit that I didn’t anticipate this situation. Perhaps I can modify the name triggers for the bot, but that will take some time to test before I can patch the AI software on your device.

You: Do you have a nickname I can call you instead?

Karasu: I don’t have many friends, so I’ve never needed one.

Karasu: That is to say, I don’t have a nickname.

Karasu: Many nicknames seem juvenile, but for you…I think I would make an exception.

Karasu: If you find it more convenient, of course.

You: Definitely, it’s all about convenience. Sure.

You: How does Kay sound to you?

Karasu: I think I like it very much.

You: :D

Karasu: :)

(He doesn’t tell you how much he treasures the name you gave him as a sign of friendship. He cherishes it and is fiercely protective of it; only you are allowed to call him that from now on.)

Karasu starts to consider you a friend when you text him about how classes are going, or the things in the Devildom that amaze you (and frighten you). Sometimes he calls you in the evenings once he’s done his work for the day, and he enjoys relaxing conversations with you while he makes himself dinner.

You convince him to play a multiplayer game with you, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that he dislikes video games. He’s grateful for your company instead, and he surprises himself that he doesn’t mind making simple concessions if it means spending more time with you.

One evening you’re playing a game together after you finished your homework. You disconnect from the game suddenly. He calls you and walks you through the troubleshooting steps when your school laptop shuts down and won’t turn back on. He knows that the machine is an older model and, based on your feedback, he makes an educated guess that it’s no longer usable. 

“I’m worried Lucifer will think I had something to do with this,” you confess to him quietly. You’ve been lucky and avoided his punishments so far, but you don’t want to make a bad impression now.

Karasu is already drafting an email on your behalf so that any concerns Lucifer has about the school’s faulty equipment will go to him instead of you. “I’ve mentioned to the RAD administration in the past that some of their technology needs to be updated. There’s no need to worry - you won't be blamed for this.”

You chuckle quietly. “I’ll miss playing games with you,” and you realize it’s a silly thing to admit, but you can’t help it. “I’ve tried to invite Levi to play games with me, but he usually ignores me. I’m not sure he likes me very much.”

Leviathan isn’t the most sociable of the seven brothers you live with, and Karasu feels disappointed on your behalf that they might not be treating you well. You’re such a nice, warm human. What problem could Leviathan possibly have with you?

“I’ll think of a better solution for you so that you’re not without a computer for long,” Karasu says, trying his best to reassure you. “And I guarantee it’ll be more dependable than the paperweight of a machine they gave you before.”

Karasu’s heart races long after your phone call finally ends. He thinks about you often, more than he probably should, and he tells himself it’s out of concern. You’re still a stranger to the Devildom and he knows you struggle to find your place within it.

He thinks about your busy schedule that’s full of classes at RAD, followed by the chores you share with your demon roommates. He thinks about how difficult it might be for someone of your status to get a decent-paying job, or to save enough money for a replacement computer of your own. 

He thinks about your problems, and he knows how he can help. The simplest solution is usually best, after all.

Two days later, he’s finishing some coding updates for the KARASU AI bot when he picks up your incoming call. He can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of him when you thank him, loudly and excitedly, over the phone.

“Kay, what did you do?!” You came home from RAD and found several large, heavy boxes from Akuzon stacked near your room. The gift receipt for all the pieces to build your new computer said it was from Your Friend.

Your happiness is contagious and he can’t stop smiling. “I’m hoping we’ll have more uninterrupted game nights together,” he teases. “I suggest you put it together and test everything to make sure none of the parts are defective.”

He frowns worriedly when you sigh, and your voice is a bit deflated, lacking the joyful enthusiasm from only a few moments ago. “I’m not great with building computers like this,” you admit. “I asked Levi for help, and he said – well, he told me he was busy,” you mumble awkwardly, and you hope your lie is convincing.

Your ignorance of technology - especially Devildom technology - irritated Levi when he noticed that someone sent you a cutting-edge, state-of-the-art computer. All you had to do was put it together, and you couldn’t even do that! He sneered and told you he wasn’t going to help you if you couldn’t figure it out on your own. When Levi stomped off towards the stairs to his room, he was still grumbling about normies and stupid humans and what a waste of space you are.

Despite your effort to hide the truth from him, Karasu can tell you’re not being completely honest. You’re not a very good liar, and if it were about something less serious, he would let it slide. Instead, he thinks about what he knows about Leviathan - the Avatar of Envy, the anti-social self-proclaimed otaku that viciously guards his interests. Karasu can imagine how the demon treated you when he realized what was in those boxes.

He knows how hard you’re trying to get closer to the demons you live with, and it seems that Leviathan purposefully stonewalls all your attempts to find common ground. It’s not the first time you’ve mentioned it, and it might not be the last unless something changes.

This is another problem he believes he can solve for you.

“Don’t worry about it tonight,” Karasu suggests, and he changes the subject to distract you. You tell him about one of the RAD classes you’ve been enjoying and some of the nice classmates you’ve met. 

After you go to bed, Karasu feels lonely without your voice in his ear. He thinks about your situation with Leviathan, and he feels indignant on your behalf. He ignores the twinges of rage that make his fingers twitch with the urge to defend you. He decides he can - should - fix this without bloodshed. It doesn’t take long to access Leviathan’s device history, and his lips twitch into a sharp smile when he finds what he’s looking for.

Karasu is suspiciously less talkative the next day, even though he still responds to your text messages. He tells you an amusing anecdote about Simeon sending Barbatos photo-spam of the inside of his pocket by accident, but otherwise he’s quieter than usual.

You try not to take it personally, but it’s difficult not to worry about his sudden change in demeanor. You glance worriedly at the boxes near your desk and wonder if he regrets getting to know you. Maybe he’s realizing later than everyone else that you’re really as useless as Levi says you are–

The sound of the doorbell echoing in the hallway scares you. The House of Lamentation doesn’t receive many visitors, and some of the demon brothers are just as curious as you when you head to the front hall.

Lucifer is the first to arrive and opens the door. “Karasu,” he says, obviously surprised, “we weren’t expecting you. I take it this isn't an official visit?” Even though Lucifer is visibly confused by his sudden appearance, he steps aside and lets in the unexpected visitor.

You’ve tried to imagine what Karasu might look like. Part of you wondered if he was just a large talking crow, but the thought seems ridiculous now. He’s shorter than the demons you live with, and his form-fitting suit compliments and accentuates his slender build. You’re captivated by his deep red pupils and dark sclera behind the glasses he wears. You assume his wings are only visible when he's in his true demonic form because you see none now.

He still looks more monstrous than the other demons you’ve met so far. Before coming to the Devildom, you might’ve found him terrifying. Instead, you’re just excited to finally meet him. You offer him a bashful grin, and he turns to you properly, offering you a bow and small but genuine smile.

He straightens and clears his throat, addressing Lucifer properly who watches your exchange with wary amusement - Karasu isn't known for making friends.

“I’ve come to help my dear friend with some technical concerns,” his eyes flickering briefly in Leviathan’s direction. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

Lucifer seems satisfied and they exchange a few more pleasantries. Eventually he and the rest of his brothers disperse.

“You didn’t have to come all this way for me,” you remind him nervously when you're alone with him. You already felt guilty before, and now he’s here because of you–

But he steps forward and places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes them gently. “I came because I wanted to come,” he admits, and his eyes gaze into yours with so much sincerity that you believe him.

You lead him to your room, and you’re thankful it’s not a complete mess when you let him inside. He looks around your room with interest, glancing at the books on your shelves and the small stack of movies you’ve been watching. He’s happy to see your room is comfortable, although the stack of Akuzon boxes take up a lot of space.

He should’ve offered to do this for you from the start.

Karasu slides off his jacket and drapes it over your bedspread, and he rolls up his shirt sleeves to his elbows. He opens the boxes carefully, inspecting each computer component for damage and explaining how the different pieces should be assembled. He takes care of putting together the complicated parts himself, but he guides you through some of the simpler steps.

He realizes that it’s so satisfying doing this with you. You’re even funnier in person, and you don’t shy away from casual touches - brushing against him when you reach for something, touching his arm when you thank him for coming. He’s not used to this kind of attention, especially since you offer him compliments and praise and kind words so freely.

There’s a warm current of emotion simmering under his skin. He recognizes what it is - attraction, desire, overwhelming need - and it blindsides him. He hasn’t felt this way for anyone in so long. How did things between you lead to this?

When your new computer is set up and working perfectly, he tries to shove aside those thoughts so he can bask in your excitement instead. He enjoys your pleasant company and he wishes he could stay with you, but he has one more task to accomplish while he's here.

“I need to have a word with Lucifer before I go,” he murmurs apologetically, a small lie but a necessary one. When your face falls, he adds quickly, “I’m not leaving just yet, but I don’t want to disturb him too late in the evening.”

You walk him to your door and point down the hall where he might find Lucifer in the library or his private study. You offer to go with him, but he insists that he’ll be fine. He wants you to stay and enjoy your gift instead. 

Karasu walks slowly down the hall, humming quietly while his shoes click lightly against the floor. He studied the layout of the House of Lamentation before he arrived and knows exactly where to go. He breezes past the library, heading towards the stairs leading to the second floor instead. He finds who he’s looking for before he gets there.

Leviathan is surprised to see him wandering around the house alone, but his expression quickly shutters into a frown. He ignores Karasu instead and tries to push past the crow demon blocking his path.

There’s a small gust of air and a metallic swish, and Leviathan walks into one of Karasu's wings, a barrier of steel-hardened black feathers that appears out of nowhere. He jumps back and hisses in pain. One of the feathers scratched his arm, and he covers it with his hand to stop blood from dripping on the floor.

“WHAT THE–” Levi begins to yell, but Karasu interrupts him before he can draw too much attention.

“Your pettiness surprises me, even though I know envy is your specialty,” he lectures him quietly, “but I would reconsider your treatment of our mutual acquaintance. You let your feelings get the better of you, and they only want to be your friend.”

Leviathan’s face crumples into an ugly sneer and looks ready to argue, but Karasu is undeterred.

What a petulant child.

Karasu leans forward, crowding into Leviathan's space, and whispers, “May I remind you, incognito mode doesn’t hide your secrets - not from me.” Leviathan inhales sharply when the threat sinks in. Karasu smiles at him, all teeth and no humor, then steps back. His feathers return to their natural texture before his wings disappear completely.

“Good evening, Leviathan,” Karasu says when he finally moves aside to let him pass. Leviathan turns around and storms back up the stairs to his room instead.

When Karasu walks back to your room, he feels invincible. He protected you and he would do it again, gladly - whether you asked him to or not. He cares for you now, perhaps more than he should. He wants to care for you even more and refuses to feel guilty about it.

It’s getting late and he has to be cautious not to overstay his welcome. He has too many overwhelming feelings to untangle when he’s alone, but now that he’s met you, he’s loathed to be parted from you for long.

He thinks it’s so sweet that you walk him to the front door when it’s time to finally leave. “I hope we can see each other again soon,” you admit, and you try not to pout. “I had fun spending time with you tonight, and I can’t thank you enough…for everything.”

Karasu tilts your chin towards him when you look away, and he smiles reassuringly so you know there’s no reason to feel embarrassed. He hopes you feel the same eager anticipation he does when he asks, “Would you like to join me for dinner this weekend?”

Your happy grin and flushed cheeks answer for you, and when he finally leaves you, it’s with the promise that you’ll see him again very soon.

read more: karasu masterlist | obey me masterlist

[owlhari]

scans of files concerning a species known as "sniggles," found on the desk of ____ ________. part 1/6

[image description in alt text, text transcription under the cut]

SNIGGLES

Creatures originating from the Black and White, created solely to worship a particular Lord in Black. Unknown if the Lady in White ("Webby") owns Sniggles. Interviews with H.F. lead me to believe she does not. (Pen underlines H.F. and writes "Hannah - what else does she know?)

Each Lord controls a species of Sniggle except Pokotho (see File P-S01 for more information). It is unknown whether Sniggles can exit the Black and White. Also unknown is the relationship between Sniggles portrayed by human Earth actors (see events of 11-29-2019) and Sniggles residing in the Black and White. (Pen points to the date and writes "& Watcher World?")

Each species follows the same biological structure with different variations. Many inner workings of Sniggle biology are unknown. The work of H.H. is extremely unhelpful. (Pen writes "who is H.H.?")

Pair of sensory "antennae" (Pen writes "Not always antennae...")

Short stature (~1m tall), humanoid shape, two arms, two logs (Pen adds quotation marks around "arms")

Organ structure unknown

[Inside the Sniggle's chest, the pen draws an upside down cartoon heart, a circular shape behind it, and a ribcage.] An arrow pointing to the circle says "Brain (controlled by their Lord)"

Written and circled at the bottom: "Heart upside down... how?"

[eirual-32]

Before the Birds Sang - Legolas x Reader

A.N.: As of now, it is a one shot imagine, but it could turn into a short series if you desire. Also, there might be some mistakes and I’m sorry for that but English isn’t my first language. Hope you enjoy! I really like this one :)

Legolas x Human Reader

Summary: On a certain evening when loneliness creeps in, Legolas is there to silently comfort you. Between the two of you, so many feelings are uncovered but also left unsaid.  

fluff, slight angst, hair braiding, hidden feelings

Reader isn’t aware of the meaning behind hair braiding for elves (love, courting…)

Warnings: none

Words: 1 884

So much time had already passed since you had left your dear home. Of course, you did miss it. In your dreams, you were reminded of what made it your own: the modest but charming garden your mother was constantly occupied embellishing, the cherry blossom trees you could observe from your room’s window gently swaying with the wind flying over the valley, the numerous birds that would wake you from a peaceful sleep when you had left your shutters open for the night…

These souvenirs, the little pieces of home still residing in your mind, brought you comfort and hope that, somehow, you would come back alive to your mother. It was a dangerous adventure and death was constantly near, but you had no regrets. Indeed, the quest you had embarked on served a crucial purpose in which the faith of Middle-earth was at stake. Consequently, being a part of the Fellowship was an honor and you had come to appreciate each one of the members accompanying you. They all were great company and having them by your side eased your growing homesickness. However, late at night, when the time had come to slip into slumber, the loneliness crawled back in with an enhanced heaviness.

This is the state you now found yourself in, lying on your back on a thin layer of ferns while staring at the stars as if they would help you find the rest your body so desperately craved, but couldn’t give in to. You clung onto the thin blanket barely protecting you from the coldness of the night as you once more forcefully shut your eyes, sighing in desperation.

Your sigh must have been louder than you had wished since a worried voice quickly followed, “Are you not able to sleep Y/N?” You swiftly turned your head to the side to find Legolas, the elf on the Fellowship who had quickly creeped its way into your heart, sitting a few feet away against a log surrounding the campfire that had been put out before nightfall. As always, he was up late, not needing to sleep much.

You were unsure whether it was merely your human nature’s reaction to the refined beauty of elves, but Legolas had fascinated you from the moment your eyes had met his gentle ones all these months ago. Since then, you had been able to slightly put aside the odd feelings that had invaded your being the first time you encountered him and a lovely friendship blossomed between the two of you. Legolas was never one to judge you and you truly felt like you could be your true self around him. He was an ellon of a few words, but an attentive listener. Therefore, you were allowed to share and relieve yourself of the fears you had regarding this journey thanks to him. Secretly, he held an extra special place in your heart.

It is the reason why, as he now searched your eyes questioning what was bothering, you felt your chest flutter and you averted your gaze to instead look back at the dark sky saying, “It is nothing new Legolas. I merely am frightened of what’s to come. You know how much I worry I will never come home to my mother.” You paused as you fought back the tears lingering in your eyes.

You heard Legolas shuffle closer and sit close to your head still resting on the ground. His comforting presence calmed you and you continued, “I am all she has left. I can’t help feeling guilty to have left her.” You sniffed slightly and closed your eyes.

For a few minutes, you both fell in a comfortable silence during which all that could be heard was the slow breaths you both let out, the faint snores of your companions sleeping nearby and the wind whistling through the countless trees surrounding you.

Your shut eyes softly opened back when a delicate hand started cautiously caressing your long hair dispersed around your head. His gentle motions started at the top of your head and ended where your neck began, just behind your right ear. His touch was so light you could have believed the breeze was the one stroking your skin and strands of your hair.

As you relished in the feeling of his rare touch on you, you tempted a look at Legolas. Still sitting, his eyes were now fixed right in front of him, mindlessly surveying the woods. From this angle, observing him from below, you could see how the moon reflected on the smooth skin covering his face making it glitter subtly. As usual, strands of his snow-colored hair were neatly braided back revealing his beautifully shaped ears and his perfectly sculpted jawline. While your eyes continued to trail over his face, you couldn’t help feeling as if you were staring at an otherworldly being which technically, he was. His mere existence felt magical. Indeed, Legolas was an elf, but deep down, you knew he felt like more than that to you.

Legolas must have sensed your gaze on him because, in their inspection, your eyes finally reached his again but now, they weren’t fixed on the trees before him anymore. You were now staring directly in his soft eyes looking down at you as they seemed to silently try to read you. Slowly, a kind smile illuminated his face. Color stained your cheeks as you detected a hint of mischievousness in his expression at having caught you admiring him.

His voice was then heard again, “I thought I was helping you falling asleep. Alas, I appear to rather be a distraction to you,” he stated as his playful smirk grew even more. You lowered your eyes briefly, embarrassment creeping in, but quickly lifted them again as you heard him giggle softly.

A newfound fondness towards him filled your body at the sound of his laugh and at the realization of the subtle closeness of the moment. This time, you maintained his gaze until your eyes fluttered close when his hand that had stilled itself on your temple began stroking your hair smoothly once more.

“You like it?” he nearly whispered. You smiled softly and nodded. You opened your eyes again to find Legolas gently reciprocating your grin.

“You haven’t slept much lately Y/N. You need to rest, mellon nin. A long journey still lies ahead of us,” he said. You hummed in response as an idea crossed your mind.

Without overanalyzing it, you asked, “Would you braid my hair like elves do?” Legolas’ hand halted in its movements and if you hadn’t been gazing intensely in his eyes, you would have missed an unknown expression that subtly flashed in them. However, he quickly regained his composure as his hand resumed its path in your hair.

Since he wasn’t responding, you grew unsure of your request. Thankfully, he relieved you of your uncertainty by muttering, “Would it help you fall asleep afterwards?”

“Yes, it would. Your touch is so soothing. It has already helped put to rest all that was haunting me earlier,” you replied quietly, a grateful glint in your eyes.

Legolas scanned your features as if hesitating, but then requested for you to sit up. He delicately covered your shoulders with your blanket and tugged your forearm lightly to guide you further back in front of his crossed legs. He began by brushing his elegant fingers through your hair, untangling the knots that had formed during the day. You closed your eyes once again enjoying how his gentle touch made you feel. Afterwards, he parted your hair and took two strands he pulled together and skillfully braided into a single braid in the back. Your closed eyelids became heavier at each second that passed.  

Then, he leaned a bit closer to be able to braid the hair right above your ears, starting on your right side. A shiver ran through your body as you sensed his warm exhale on your ear and neck. Shortly after, your heart rate accelerated when you felt a tremble in his breath as if he was nervous. That is when you discerned the intimacy of the moment you were sharing. You could not recall having shared such a tender act with anyone other than your mother and the idea of you making the ellon behind you anxious filled you with feelings you were not familiar with.  

Unexpectedly, now working on the last braid, near your left hear, Legolas softly said, “Regarding what you said to me earlier about your mother and you fearing to never come back to her, I of course can’t assure you that nothing will happen to you since the dangers ahead are unknown, but…” He paused completing your hairstyle and delicately turning you around so you could sit while facing him. For a few seconds, his gaze lovingly swept over your hair and your face halting at your eyes. Finally, he finished his sentence, intently diving his gaze into yours, “I promise that I will look after you and do everything in my power for you to return home unarmed.”

At his words, you felt a soothing warmth invading your stomach and you smiled at him, again admiring his majestic beauty. His right hand still resting on your shoulder now raised itself to lightly take a hold of your cheek. His index brushed your skin tenderly and you leaned into his hand as you grasped his wrist gently. As you stared at one another, a certain tension weighed on the both of you in which so much was left unsaid. Your breaths fanning on the other’s face, a sense of surprise seized you when you became aware of your proximity as you knew Legolas was never one for physical touch, but here you were.

“Bain,” he whispered. “You look beautiful,” he completed while releasing a breath. You stared startled, heart beating furiously. What shocked you even more is when Legolas leaned in to lay his lips on your cheek in a soft kiss and then did the same on your forehead. The skin his mouth had touched was tingling and your body craved for him to lean in again. However, you stayed put, even as the ellon’s eyes briefly drifted to your lips before looking back into yours, pink now tinting his cheeks.

That’s when he put his hands on both your shoulders and leaned back,“It is time for you to rest now, ok?” he said in a low voice which broke the spell you had both fell in while you shyly had explored the other with your sight and touch.

“Yes.” You nodded. “Thank you again Legolas. For everything.” You smiled and he lightly bowed his head, his gentle eyes never leaving yours.

He stood up, leaving you yearning for his touch again as the emplacements on your skin he had been in contact with grew cold. Nevertheless, your insides were burning as you stared at the elf regaining his earlier spot near the campfire. You lay back down on the ground, glancing once more at Legolas who was now observing you from afar, a sparkle in his eyes, before your eyelids who had grown heavy shut one final time and you were transported back home, in dreams, to the birds singing melodically outside your window.

A.N.: If you desire a second part, I will write one :).

[leviathan-supersystem]

Mike DeWine, the Ohio governor, recently lamented the toll taken on the residents of East Palestine after the toxic train derailment there, saying “no other community should have to go through this”.

But such accidents are happening with striking regularity. A Guardian analysis of data collected by the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and by non-profit groups that track chemical accidents in the US shows that accidental releases – be they through train derailments, truck crashes, pipeline ruptures or industrial plant leaks and spills – are happening consistently across the country.

By one estimate these incidents are occurring, on average, every two days.

“These kinds of hidden disasters happen far too frequently,” Mathy Stanislaus, who served as assistant administrator of the EPA’s office of land and emergency management during the Obama administration, told the Guardian. Stanislaus led programs focused on the cleanup of contaminated hazardous waste sites, chemical plant safety, oil spill prevention and emergency response.

In the first seven weeks of 2023 alone, there were more than 30 incidents recorded by the Coalition to Prevent Chemical Disasters, roughly one every day and a half. Last year the coalition recorded 188, up from 177 in 2021. The group has tallied more than 470 incidents since it started counting in April 2020.

The incidents logged by the coalition range widely in severity but each involves the accidental release of chemicals deemed to pose potential threats to human and environmental health.

In September, for instance, nine people were hospitalized and 300 evacuated in California after a spill of caustic materials at a recycling facility. In October, officials ordered residents to shelter in place after an explosion and fire at a petrochemical plant in Louisiana. In November, more than 100 residents of Atchinson, Kansas, were treated for respiratory problems and schools were evacuated after an accident at a beverage manufacturing facility created a chemical cloud over the town.

Among multiple incidents in December, a large pipeline ruptured in rural northern Kansas, smothering the surrounding land and waterways in 588,000 gallons of diluted bitumen crude oil. Hundreds of workers are still trying to clean up the pipeline mess, at a cost pegged at around $488m.

The precise number of hazardous chemical incidents is hard to determine because the US has multiple agencies involved in response, but the EPA told the Guardian that over the past 10 years, the agency has “performed an average of 235 emergency response actions per year, including responses to discharges of hazardous chemicals or oil”. The agency said it employs roughly 250 people devoted to the EPA’s emergency response and removal program.

[...]

The EPA itself says that by several measurements, accidents at facilities are becoming worse: evacuations, sheltering and the average annual rate of people seeking medical treatment stemming from chemical accidents are on the rise. Total annual costs are approximately $477m, including costs related to injuries and deaths.

“Accidental releases remain a significant concern,” the EPA said.

In August, the EPA proposed several changes to the Risk Management Program (RMP) regulations that apply to plants dealing with hazardous chemicals. The rule changes reflect the recognition by EPA that many chemical facilities are located in areas that are vulnerable to the impacts of the climate crisis, including power outages, flooding, hurricanes and other weather events.

The proposed changes include enhanced emergency preparedness, increased public access to information about hazardous chemicals risks communities face and new accident prevention requirements.

The US Chamber of Commerce has pushed back on stronger regulations, arguing that most facilities operate safely, accidents are declining and that the facilities impacted by any rule changes are supplying “essential products and services that help drive our economy and provide jobs in our communities”. Other opponents to strengthening safety rules include the American Chemistry Council, American Forest & Paper Association, American Fuel & Petrochemical Manufacturers and the American Petroleum Institute.

The changes are “unnecessary” and will not improve safety, according to the American Chemistry Council.

Many worker and community advocates, such as the International Union, United Automobile, Aerospace & Agricultural Implement Workers of America, (UAW), which represents roughly a million laborers, say the proposed rule changes don’t go far enough.

[camarocarfight]

There's A Demon In My Radio Chapter One An Alastor x Reader slow burn fic featuring human Angel Dust (Anthony), Vox, and many more. Buckle up, and grab the tissues. Rated MATURE for sexual themes, violence, and drug and alcohol use.

There's A Demon In My Radio

New Orleans, 1947

There had been a cabin in the bayou that you dreamed about living in all your childhood. Your family would drive past it on your way to your father's sugarcane fields, and your gaze would be fixated on the log structure. The cabin wasn't much to look at, being a quaint hunting shack and all, but your father said that it had been refurbished after the previous owner had died. It sat empty for years, and was listed on the market for just as long. Talk of the town was that the serial murderer from the 1930s cut up and ate his victims there, but that seemed far-fetched to you. 

Regardless of the rumors and your father's distaste for the idea, you bought the cabin after graduating from nursing school. Not at all put off by the fact that a serial killer had taken up residence there nearly two decades ago. All you cared about was that he was dead, having been shot by a hunter who mistook him for a deer. Truthfully, an unfortunate way to go, but was he deserving of any other?

Anthony, your closest friend, was meeting you at the hospital after work to help you move in. The two of you had been close since middle school, after Anthony had warded off some unwanted advancements against you by Vox. Since then, you had each other's backs, and agreed to a mutually beneficial relationship. Your first time meeting Anthony, you knew he was different. Different in the kind of way that society didn't accept and could very well get him killed if he wasn't careful. After the Vox incident, you and Anthony agreed to ‘courting’. It was the only solution you knew of to keep Vox off your back, and it would keep Anthony safe from any accusations.

For years your plan had worked, but as of late, the pressure was mounting on you to keep Anthony safe. Everyday, it seemed Anythony found himself in some sort of trouble with drugs or with selling himself for money. He would come to you at odd hours of the night either high or sporting the cuts and bruises of his latest scrape.

So it really didn't surprise you when you found Anthony sitting outside the hospital on a bench. Dressed to the nines in a charcoal gray three piece suit with a matching fedora and sporting a black eye. You bound towards the young man, shaking your head in disappointment. Anthony simply grinned, finding your motherly instincts comical.

“Honestly, you need a babysitter,” you took him by the chin and moved his head from side to side, examining the bruise. 

“Nice t’ see you too, Doll,” Anthony took your hand from his face as he stood from the bench. He easily towered over you, being 6’3 and all legs. “Coulda been worse. It was only Val dishing out the punishment.” 

“You shouldn't have to be punished,” you grumbled and took Anthony's arm and the two of you began your walk to the cabin.

“Jus’ forget it, and let's have a nice weekend puttin’ your murder shack together.”

The two of you walked in relative silence, arm-in-arm. From the hospital to the cabin was a thirty minute walk. The landscape changed drastically along the way. Going from the bustle of the city and the stately homes, to plantations that eventually tapered off into the forests that surrounded the bayou. It would no doubt be an interesting walk coming back from the hospital during those Late nights. Your father had offered to buy you an automobile, but you felt they weren't safe. Not that walking such a distance was much safer. 

“I don't know, toots,” Anthony glanced down and eyed you wearily through his blackened eye. “Quite the walk for a gal by her lonesome.”

You scoffed and pulled your arm free from Anthony and rummaged through your purse to find the keys to the cabin. 

“Have you and my father been talking?”

“You know he don't like me,” Anthony murmured and thrust his hands into the pockets of his slacks. 

The man stopped before the cabin and regarded the log structure with an unamused expression. Refurbished or not, it still wasn't much to look at. The windows in the front were caked with dust, and moss and vines had slithered their way up the siding and onto the shingles of the roof.

“What was it about this place anyhow?”

“I don't know,” you shrugged and walked up to the door. As you slid the key into the keyhole, a smile slid across your lips. “There's this je ne sais quoi I couldn't ignore.”

The lock mechanism clicked, disengaging the lock, and the door slowly creaked with the hinges squealing in protest. Light filtered into the vast space of the cabin's main room, illuminating the dust that floated and filled the musty air. The old furniture had long since been removed after the passing of the previous occupant, leaving only an old radio sitting in the corner of the room next to a stone fireplace.

Behind you Anthony whistled. “Smells wonderful,” he stepped past you and into the living space. Under his oxfords the old wooden floors creaked. “Like rotten meat.”

“Anthony, quit.”

“Maybe the killer's bodies are still buried here,” he laughed, but the look on your face had his smile fading. “Awe, c'mon, toots.”

“I really want to make this place home, Anthony. Regardless of what happened or not.”

“And we will,” Anthony put his arm around your shoulders and regarded the space. “‘Least it came with a radio.”

You hummed and walked up to the floor model radio sitting dorment in the corner. The once mahogany stained wood was tarnished and chipped, with years of dust covering its surface that was so thick that it didn't even leave a trail when you swiped your finger across the surface. There was a tiny frequency window that was yellowed and cracked and two knobs that barely turned. 

“It be neat if this still worked,” you reached down and picked up the power cord. The outer sheath was dry rotted and nearly falling apart in your hand. 

“Yeah,” Anthony shook his head. “I wouldn't, unless I want to burn the place down.”

“If the cord is in this condition, then the capacitors are probably dried out too,” the cord fell from your hand and clattered against the wooden floor. “I wonder if this was his radio.”

Anthony quirked a brow and folded his arms over his chest with his right hip cocked. “Are y’ keeping it? No use keeping someone else's junk. Especially since it doesnt work.”

“No, I'm keeping it,” the look of confusion on Anthony's face made you smirk. “It's a nice decoration.” 

“Whatever you say, toots.”

[animal444]

I love you moss I love you dirt I love you wasps I love you mud I love you trees I love you grass I love you sun I love you wildflowers I love you rivers I love you rocks I love you caves I love you worms I love you mammals I love you beetles I love you sky I love you pollen I love you mushrooms I love you ticks I love you fallen logs I love you sinkholes I love you ponds I love you birds I love you oceans I love you parasites I love you bees I love you fish I love you poisonous berries I love you fruit trees I love you corals I love you single-celled organisms I love you bushes I love you reptiles I love you weeds I love you humans I love you nature and all that resides in you regardless if it’s beneficial to me or not I love you I love you I love you I love you

[caocao-caokie-blog]

I know I haven’t been posting much about stuff I like recently due to the genocides happening in Palestine, The Congo, and Sudan. My heart goes out to the people who suffer daily, and I want to also remind you to keep hope in your heart. Remember. People still care. People will forever care. History will care.

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More links!

Remember, our voices will be heard!

From the River to the Sea, Palestine Will be Free!🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

[sunnysideprincess]

Tony has a problem. He knows this. He wants to stop, wants to reset and take a step back. But his hands don't listen. They hover and tremble in air, a bare inch away from touching the dangerous beast laying about on the couch.

He has been warned. Bruce, Wilson and Nat told him that Barnes has a tendency to lash out. That Hydra has left a permanent mark on his self. Usually, that would be enough to keep Tony from ever crossing the imaginary line.

But this—

This isn't some careless whisper of bad idea. Tony has put some thought into it.

Hydra kept the Soldier in his human form to make it easier for them to control him. Barnes meanwhile, from the way Cap says it, loved to roam free. He loved to hunt. He loved to chase after everything in the woods. He loved his shifted form. And his kind weren't known to be solitary creatures. Even now, when he is more than part savage, Barnes takes care to spend his days lounging as a giant, snow white beast rather than the stoic, military by-product everyone tried to mold him as.

Tony gets this because the first thing he ever did after coming back from Afghanistan was to disappear and hunt for his Pepper, Rhodey and Obie in his shifted form.

His fingers graze the top mane of the wolf and the next minute, he's on the ground, halfway through his own shift as he stares at the deadly jaws of-well-death.

Inches away from getting his head ripped off, Tony feels his bones contract and his spine arch gracefully. Where at first was a human dumbass genius, now resided a Siamese cat, hissing and pawing at the wolf's muzzle. It takes the larger predator by surprise and Tony takes immediate advantage of that momentary shock to twist his way out from under it.

"Mrrreow," Tony bawls once he's a safe distance from Barnes, then immediately hisses when the Wolf growls at him.

The argument goes back and forth. Long enough that Jarvis alerts the others.

But then miracle of miracles, Tony bobs his way across the distance between them and stubbornly sits himself under the wolf.

Bucky is confused. Terrified too. He can hurt Stark. He will hurt Stark if this keeps up. Hydra left him more of a subdued human than animal for seventy years. There is a lot of back log when it comes to his wolf's hunting instincts. If he accidentally sets his predatory senses on the small cat then they are both goners. Even Stevie can't protect him if he ends up killing Tony Stark.

Stark bumps his head under his jaw and purrs.

And oh...

Bucky feels his body shudder in a pleasant hum. Stark rubs his head on him and licks, cleans and grooms the wolf's fur in earnest, occasionally hissing and guiding Bucky's face with his paws.

And that's how the team finds them: Tony in his shifted form grooming Bucky's wolf aggressively, while the later lays on the floor, resembling a pile of blissed fur.

[bumblesimagines]

Midnight Beach

Request: Yes or No

Please check the poll imma put up after reading this!

~~~

The bright sun shone down on the land, bringing about much-needed light as workers cleared out fallen branches and debris tossed around by Hurricane Agatha the day before. (Y/N) had already spent half of his morning clearing out the yard and driveway as well as making sure the water hadn't risen too high. Once work had been finished at home, he had made his way over to the Cameron Residence. It came as no surprise to see workers already there helping the family clean up the mess outside.

(Y/N) watched as two men worked on cutting a fallen log in half before a battle cry brought his attention back to the blonde. "Leave the animals alone, Sarah!" He hollered, an amused grin pulling at his features as Sarah leaped toward the seagulls with a tennis racket in hand. She swung it around aimlessly, nearly losing balance on occasion. Her blonde hair stuck out just about in every direction, chest and shoulders rising as she panted. 

"But the mice, (Y/N)! It's not their fault!" She shouted in response, making another short jump into the air and missing another bird. (Y/N) crossed his arms over his chest and continued watching her run around frantically, making leaps she'd surely regret once her legs began to ache. Shaking his head and snickering softly under his breath, the teen turned his head to look at Ward as he approached with a woman in tow. The older man stared at his daughter with furrowed brows and squinted eyes as if attempting to figure out what exactly she was doing. 

"Morning, Mr. Cameron."

"Please, (Y/N). You can call me Ward." Ward smiled fondly at him, reaching out to place a firm yet gentle hand on his shoulder. A grunt from his daughter as she jumped up pulled his gaze away from him and onto her. "What is Sarah doing?"

Snorting, (Y/N) turned back to his girlfriend, watching her nearly trip over a branch. "Saving the mice." 

"Oh, Jesus," Ward sighed, dropping his hand and placing it on his hip, an exasperated look falling over his features. The older man stepped forward and, quietly apologized to the woman behind him before raising a hand to his mouth and calling out, "Sarah! I have an actual human being who needs you right now!" 

Whirling around and stumbling slightly, Sarah blinked at them and hurried over. (Y/N) chuckled softly and extended his arm, letting the blonde crash into his side. His girlfriend took in a big gulp of air, switching the racket to her other hand before reaching out to shake the woman's hand. "I'm so sorry, I'm Sarah."

"Guys, this is Lana Grubb, Scooter's wife. Now, you two were storm-prepping with him, right?" Ward questioned.

"Yeah, he helped us latch the cabin on the Druthers," Sarah answered with a nod, glancing back at the yacht as she wrapped an arm around (Y/N)'s waist and settled comfortably at his side. 

"Last night?"

"Yeah." Sarah breathed, brushing back some strands and furrowing her brows at her dad. (Y/N) slipped his arm around her shoulders, eyes sweeping over the workers on the property. Some were familiar faces, others were strangers but he couldn't help but notice the man in question wasn't amongst those present, and adding that to the fact his wife seemed upset made his stomach drop.

"Did something happen? Is he okay?" At his words, Sarah perked up, brown eyes widening when Lana glanced at her father desperately, the frown on her face deepening. Ward quickly placed his hands on the woman's arms, rubbing them comfortably and nodding his head to keep everyone from panicking further. 

"He is absolutely okay. I'm sure he's just hunkered down somewhere. We're gonna find him." Ward assured, slipping his hand to Lana's back and beginning to guide her away, murmuring comforts to the distressed woman as they rounded the corner and disappeared from view. Sarah took another gulp of air, still recovering from leaping and running around. She tilted her head up to look at her boyfriend, lips forming a small worried pout.

"What do you think happened to him?"

"He was probably heading home but got stuck somewhere. The roads are covered in all sorts of shit right now. I'm sure he'll pop by sooner or later, Sarah." (Y/N) assured softly, lifting his hand to push his fingers into her hair, combing down the strands sticking out. Sarah pursed her lips and nodded, leaning away from him when the seagulls began squawking again. She tightened her grip on her racket and took a step toward the bank but (Y/N) quickly hooked his fingers into two of the pant loops on her shorts and pulled her back toward his chest. "Leave the seagulls alone, Sarah."

"But-"

"The mice are gonna be fine, I promise. The seagulls aren't gonna eat all of them." (Y/N) assured her with a chuckle, releasing the pant loops and instead wrapping his arms around her bare stomach. Sarah huffed softly and squinted up at the sky, shoulders sagging in defeat. Planting a swift kiss on the nape of her neck, (Y/N) began walking backward and away from the birds, in case Sarah had a swift change of mind. Sarah went limp in his arms, forcing the teen to begin dragging her away as she slowly began sliding out of his arms and toward the ground. Raising his brows at her, (Y/N) released his grip and watched Sarah fall onto the grass with a squeak and soft thud. 

"Babe!" She whined and pouted again, lifting her arms and wiggling her fingers for him to help her up. "I'm tired, c'mon!"

"And whose fault is that?" Dropping her arms down over her stomach, she shrugged her shoulders innocently, a cheeky smile appearing on her face in response. (Y/N) rolled his eyes and shook his head, offering her his hands and pulling her back up onto her dirtied sneakers. She wiped wet grass and dirt off her arms, crinkling her nose and reaching over to wipe her hand on his shirt, snickering when she heard him scoff softly. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

"Carry me?" She pleaded, tilting her head and batting her lashes.

"You're spoiled." (Y/N) murmured, pressing his fingers against her thighs. Laughing with glee, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, lifting a middle finger in her little sister's direction when the younger girl made a loud gagging noise at the sight of them. (Y/N) chuckled softly and walked around the pool, stepping inside the clean, air-conditioned mansion. Sarah released a sigh of relief at the feeling of cold air against her warm body, head drooping down to rest on her forearm as (Y/N) headed up the stairs and toward her bedroom. 

Pushing the door open with his foot, he entered the room and approached the bed, abruptly dropping her down on the mattress. The blonde released a soft 'oof' but melted against the bedsheets, pulling her fuzzy blanket over her body and dropping the racket onto the floor. She ran her hand over the blanket, head craning to watch (Y/N) sit down at her desk and bask in the cool air flowing in through the vent. Pressing her lips together, Sarah propped herself up onto her elbows.

"Do you really think Scooter's okay?"

"He's a tough guy, Sarah. He'll be alright." 

"Lana seemed really worried." She frowned, pushing herself up and crossing her legs, fingers toying with the white fuzz. (Y/N) lifted his arm to gently squeeze the side of his neck, sighing softly and pushing the chair toward her. He could understand her concern completely. Scooter had been working for the Camerons' for a while, so much so he could be considered a friend by the family. While he had questionable qualities, the man was overall a good guy. 

Placing a hand over Sarah's knee, (Y/N) rubbed his thumb back and forth over her slightly tan skin. Feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket, he lifted his hips briefly to slip his phone out and look at the text message. For a brief second, he hoped to see a text from one of his parents, but the hope disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Humming softly, (Y/N) tapped on the message. "There's a party down at the Boneyard. Topper and the others are going-"

"Let me shower and get dressed!" Scrambling off the bed, Sarah collected some clothes and slipped into her bathroom, the worries that had been hanging over her head disappearing at the prospect of a party. Chuckling, (Y/N) responded to the text and leaned back further in the chair, listening to the sound of the water running as he waited. 

                    ✽        ✽       ✽       ✽       ✽       ✽

Sarah took off as soon as her feet hit the sand, a stream of giggles escaping her as she raced toward the red buoy that had washed up onshore. Her boyfriend and their friends trailed behind, taking in the familiar beach. Large branches and logs had been scattered across the sand, providing seating for those at the kegger. Teens happily took in the luxury of freedom after being stuck inside during the hurricane with their families. 

"You sure she should be climbing that? What if she falls?" Topper questioned, eyeing Sarah as she climbed the buoy and sat comfortably at the top. (Y/N) glanced at his blonde acquaintance with a knowing look, hands resting in his pockets as they walked toward the buoy. Topper Thornton's crush on Sarah had been growing ever more obvious since she had begun dating (Y/N). Sure, Sarah had her fair share of boyfriends but most got dumped within a week or two. However, her relationship with (Y/N) had been going steady for a while, to the point the Camerons predicted they'd be welcoming him into the family after they graduated; an honor most people on the Outer Banks would kill for. And with Ward's approval of (Y/N), Topper had to resort to hoping Sarah would view him in a more romantic light.

"Come down before you give grandma Topper a heart attack, Sarah!" (Y/N) called up to her, stepping onto one of the logs and offering her his hand. Sarah laughed, gazing out toward the ocean one last time before she leaned down, took his hand, and carefully climbed down off the buoy. Topper huffed softly, glaring at Kelce when the teen laughed loudly and gently bumped their shoulders together. The group made their way toward the crowd, greeting other Kooks and eventually finding a spot to settle down at. 

Night fell quicker than expected and Sarah linked her arm with (Y/N)'s, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Maybe we should grab a drink and take a walk." She said quietly and (Y/N) nodded, standing up and taking her hand in his. Topper jumped up at the chance and grinned at them, nodding toward the keg where drinks were being poured for anyone who walked over. (Y/N) exchanged an amused look with Sarah, following Topper toward the keg until JJ stepped in front of them with a wide grin.

"Sarah! Can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage?" He questioned, holding up the red solo cup. 

"No, thanks." Sarah dismissed with a shake of her head, prompting the blonde to tilt his head, his eyes flickering to the two Kooks with her. If any Pogue was quick to pick an argument with a Kook, it was definitely JJ. The blonde had no problem throwing the first punch and getting a talking-to from the sheriff. 

"Come on, is it not fancy enough for you?" He pushed further and his friend, John B, laughed at his antics. 

Before Sarah could respond, Topper cut in and stepped toward him. "You know what? I'll take it. Thank you, man. I appreciate it." 

"That's nice, but I didn't ask you. Now, if you said pretty please, then maybe. But you didn't." JJ shrugged his shoulders, his grip on the cup tightening slightly. Heads began turning in their direction and Sarah pressed herself further into (Y/N)'s side, quietly trying to get Topper to back off but JJ's words only ticked him off further. (Y/N) gently grabbed Topper's arm but he shrugged him off and moved closer to JJ. "So, Sarah, if-"

"She doesn't want it." Topper sneered, smacking the cup out of his hand and causing the beer to splash on JJ. The blonde quickly reacted, snatching him by the collar but before any punches could be thrown John B and (Y/N) got between them, pushing the two away from each other.

"Drop it, Topper." 

"You gonna let these dirty Pogues-" Before Topper could finish his sentence, John B whirled around and shoved Topper back, causing him to stumble backward. Pope and his other friends pulled him back with Pope desperately whispering to him. Topper clenched his jaw, fingers curling into fists as he stared at Topper. 

"Topper, don't-" (Y/N) reached out to grab him but Topper moved quicker than he expected, reeling back his arm and punching John B hard enough he fell down on the wet sand. Sarah and the others gasped loudly and Pope held JJ back from stepping in as Topper kicked the fallen boy, causing him to fall back again into the water, completely soaking him. The crowd began chanting, encouraging the two boys to fight and Topper seemed to back off after another kick but as he began stepping away, John B staggered to his feet and wrapped an arm around his waist, bringing him down into the water.

"That's enough!" (Y/N) called to the two, voice mixing in with others trying to get the boys to stop and others continuing to encourage the fight between them. The two stood up from the water, completely soaked and they quickly got entangled, throwing punches and trying to wrestle each other back down. (Y/N) kept his arm out in front of Sarah in case the fight moved further up the beach. They could only watch the fight from the sidelines, both sides knowing that if anyone else got involved it'd encourage more bystanders to join the fighting. The two broke apart for a moment and began circling each other with their fists up, throwing punches and shoving each other down onto the ground until Topper eventually pinned John B down, holding his head down by the waves. 

"Topper, stop! Do something, (Y/N)!" Sarah pleaded, grasping her boyfriend's arm desperately. Cursing softly under his breath, (Y/N) stepped forward only to stop as JJ quickly approached the two, something shining in the moonlight. His stomach dropped, feet keeping him planted in the sand when JJ pressed a gun to the back of Topper's head. At the sight of the gun, people began shouting and running to get away from the armed Pogue. Calls for Topper to stop quickly shifted into pleading for JJ to put the gun away.

"Kie, can you check your psycho friend, please?" Sarah called to her former friend, tears beginning to form in her eyes. Her voice pulled (Y/N) back and he swallowed, lifting his arms and slowly approaching them. JJ watched him closely, only pointing the gun away from Topper when (Y/N) grabbed him and pulled him away from John B. He winced upon hearing John B gasping for air and coughing, hands tightly gripping Topper's arms and dragging him back toward Sarah.

"Everyone, listen up! Get the hell off our side of the island!" JJ shouted into the night, firing off two warning shots in the air, the sound alone sending more teenagers off running to safety. Pulling Topper along, Sarah and Kelce followed, frantically glancing back at JJ and his friends in case he decided Topper needed a harsher lesson. Moving through the trees, (Y/N) listened to the sound of teenagers leaving the area as quickly as possible until he reached his jeep and threw the door open, practically throwing the stammering Topper inside.

"H-He had a gun-" Cutting Topper off by shutting the door, (Y/N) sighed deeply and faced the two, motioning for them to get in the car. (Y/N) opened the driver's side door and climbed in, turning the car on and waiting for everyone to settle down before peeling off, the tires kicking up sand and trash. Topper continued to stammer and talk, switching between defending himself to calling the Pogues psychos and dangerous. (Y/N) reached for the radio, turning up the music to tune him out, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as the adrenaline in his veins began dying down, leaving him with exhaustion. 

Dropping Kelce and Topper off at their places, (Y/N) finally lowered the music and glanced at Sarah, taking her in. She had lowered the window sometime before dropping the boys off, letting the cool night air blow in her face and mess with her hair. She toyed with the end of her short dress, leg bouncing and teeth nipping at her bottom lip. "You okay?"

"After all that?" Sarah breathed, lightly shaking her head. "I can't believe Kie hangs with them."

"Topper was trying to drown him, Sarah. JJ could've gone about it much differently but it did stop the fight. I doubt Topper will be messing with them again any time soon." (Y/N) pointed out, pulling into the Cameron driveway and coming to a stop by the front doors. His gaze lingered on them for a moment before he turned to look at her. "Want me to come inside for a bit?"

"I'll be fine," Sarah said, lips finally forming a smile. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, leaning back slightly and gently bumping her nose against his. "See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow." (Y/N) smiled, watching her hum and lean back, pushing her arm against the door as she opened it. Hopping out, Sarah closed the door and rounded the jeep, lifting her arm to wave at him before stepping inside the mansion. (Y/N) stepped on the pedal, driving down the other end of the driveway and back out into the street. The streets were dark, apart from the glow of some large houses casting out onto the road. (Y/N) neared his house, sighing deeply at the sight of it. No cars in the driveway, no lights on, and no parents waiting for him to get home to eat dinner together. 

Pulling into the driveway and shutting the engine off, (Y/N) slumped back in his seat and peered down at his discarded phone in the cupholder. He pressed his lips together and picked it up, turning it on and tapping on the screen. Looking at his message, he felt his stomach twist when he had to scroll to find the last conversation he had with either of his parents. Finding one and tapping on it, he hummed softly. His last message remained unread despite having been sent weeks prior and neither one of his parents had called to check in after Agatha. 

"Home sweet home." (Y/N) whispered, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of his car. Shutting the door and putting the alarm, he strolled toward the front door, finding no urgency in stepping inside the empty, lonely house.

 At least in the Cameron household, he was treated as family. Always a spot at the dinner table for him, always a hug ready for him from Ward or Wheezie, and even Rafe checked in on him from time to time. So, when he opened the door and stared into the darkness inside, the only thing he wanted to do was get back in his car. But he didn't. Instead, he took a deep breath and flickered on the lights.

[thevernofficial]

Contacting your Rep 101

Hello my dear people!

I was chatting with one of my friends recently and we were chatting about contacting a representatives office because she didn't know who to call or what to say.

So (for the Americans) here is some advice from me:

(Disclaimer while I work in politics I do not represent the beliefs of the people I work for) (also every office is a little different)

Finding your Rep

Okay, here is the thing. We can only technically take opinions from Residents of our state. So its important that you find YOUR state representatives.

Find some by zip code here:

Generally your specific state will also have a website with state and federal representatives.

2. Call vs Email

So, many places will have email options rather than call. I will let you know at least for my office calls or voicemails are kept track of more often. We have a team of people on the phone lines.

I don't know if this is the case in other offices. But in general (if your comfortable with talking with someone for 2 minutes) calling is better than emailing. On those contact my rep info sites they also have the main phone lines for your representative.

3. What do you say?

I have a bit of a script here for those who have never called or are nervous about talking with an intern on a phone line.

Intern: (THE POLITICIAN) office how can I help you?

You: Hello my name is __________ I am a constituent of (THE POLITICIAN) and a resident of (YOUR STATE). I am calling today about (YOUR OPINION HERE). My phone/email is ______________.

Intern: Thank you for your voice and opinions. I want to assure you (Script that has been given to the interns). Is there anything else I can help you with today?

You: Yes/No. (If yes state more opinions and cycle repeats).

Intern: Have a lovely day then!

I have to say how IMPORTANT it is to say your name. In our office logs we take down all the names to send to our boss to know that there are different people calling in their opinions.

4. How many times?

In general we tend to notice if the same number has popped up more than 3 times in a day. Then we can't log it as a new opinion anymore. But if you call once a day, we record a new log for politicians everyday so you can get your name on the daily list again.

5. Does this even matter?

YES. I cannot stress enough. YES

CALL YOUR REPRESENTATIVES!

It's our civic duty to do so. But it also gives staffers of politicians reasons to lean one way or the other (regardless of what you call in about). Every call helps.

We take down the names every day and we listen to all the stories that are sent in. Trust that someone WILL listen to what you have to say and it will be written down and sent to the politicians. That is literally our job.

6. Phone Etiquette

Politics are emotional. These times are emotional. If you need to cry, do it. If you need to cry while on the phone with an Intern, do it. If you need to break away from the script and talk about everyday stories, do it. This is your call. The intern won't judge you for crying on the phone. If you want to shout or express your anger, maybe don't shout at the intern but you can express anger.

But please be nice to the people on the phone. They've had to listen to hundreds or thousands of people in these emotional times. And we're happy to do so. This is why we do this job.

But we're still human. So saying an occasional thank you, might not help your opinion, it does help the person on the other end of the line.

That's all I can think of right now. I hope this helps...for someone at least.