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tallymonster · 3 months

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Memories of Us chapter 15 - Emotions

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Thanks to everyone for being patient with me while I took my long break.

Thanks as always to @cheesy-cryptid for allowing me to use her art to write this. Thanks also goes out to @micropoe10 and @tragedybunny for giving this a little look before I posted this.

If anyone wants to be added to the tag list lemme know!!

Tags: @justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @davenswitcher @wayward-hel

My eyes are closed.

I open them and look around.

I see a bed, rays of sun come in through the window.

His beautiful red eyes.

The bright light shines behind the silver hair that covers those crimson eyes that stay locked onto me.

I feel his loving stare, I never felt this way before.

My hand comes up to press against his skin, but it's not my hand.

I recognize this person, we’ve been here before.

I know you.

I feel my heart breaking now.

You aren't here.

You left in the night, you couldn't even tell me why.

Warm light shines through the window, Octavia shifts in her sleep, still laying on her couch wrapped in the plush blanket.

Suddenly, she startles awake.

The dream she was having felt so real, but was that Astarion?

She blinks a bit, the dull ache in her head settling in. How much did she drink last night? She shifts a bit and feels her legs touch the end of the couch. The dull pain in her neck made it hard to lift her head but when she does, she sees nothing at the other end.

Astarion must have left in the night. Why else would she wake up alone? Octavia feels a slight drop in her chest, a little twinge of heartbreak, maybe even disappointment.

It’s as if the little flame that she had little flashes of is slowly snuffed out. She sighs and wraps the blanket around herself. Slowly, she surveys the room. Her living room is a mess of clothes, bottles, and a couple of cushions thrown about haphazardly. Over by her door, she notices Astarion’s jacket hanging on the hook. Perhaps he’s still here?

Octavia drags the blanket along the carpet as she picks up her clothes; when out of the corner of her eye, she sees shadows at the end of the hallway connecting to her bedroom.

She quietly shuffles over to the door, pressing her ear against it. She tries to concentrate on the noise behind the door, only hearing some shuffling noises.

“I can hear you out there, you know. I figured you would've learned not to spy on people given what happened last time.” Astarion’s voice called from behind her private room.

Octavia scoffs, grinning slightly. She pushes the door open to find Astarion laying on top of the sheets she had recently washed. “Is it spying if it's my house?”, she asks sarcastically.

As she stands at the door, she sees his eyes glance up and quickly go back down to the book in his hands. Funny how he can take command of the room, even if it isn't his own. “You look comfortable. How's my bed feel?”

Astarion's wearing the same fitted black pants he wore the night before, his light gray shirt was lazily thrown on his toned frame. The fabric haphazardly clung to the rise and fall of the muscles on his chest.

He had closed the curtains in her room leaving it shrouded in partial darkness. There's lit candles throughout her room all flickering in a soft yellow glow. In contrast, Astarion’s features were highlighted by the faint shimmer from the flames.

Astarion was reading one of the many textbooks she still had from college, his fingers spread between the pages paint an obscene picture in her head. Octavia shakes it off and fully enters her room. He flips through the book languidly, responding back “Well, it would've definitely been better than the couch.”

The heat immediately rushed through her body, making her lack of clothing evident. Octavia clears her throat, trembling under the blanket. The cool air of her darkened room made her skin break out in gooseflesh. Astarion peers up from the book, he raises an eyebrow at her inquisitively.

“Something the matter, dear?” he asks, still flipping slowly through the book.

“I need to change, Astarion. Do you mind leaving the room for a few minutes?” Octavia wraps the fabric around herself tighter, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

“Sweetness, do you remember that little detail about myself I mentioned to you?” he tilts his head and looks up at her from under his silvery gray lashes.

Octavia scoffs, crossing her arms and curling up tighter under the thin material. “You can wait in the hallway for five minutes can't you? Please?”

“You're really adorable when you're acting bashful, dear. Have you forgotten what we did last night?” He closes the book and slides over to the edge of the bed. His long legs fall over the side as he pulls Octavia closer by the fabric that drapes her.

Octavia settles in between his legs, she feels an arm wrap around her pulling her closer. The blanket rubs against her cold skin, making more goosebumps grow. She sucks air in through her teeth, shivering slightly.

“Astarion…I'm cold. Can I plea-” Octavia’s voice gets cut off as she feels Astarion begin to tug at the spot where Octavia’s hands held it closed. She blushes at the look on his face, his reddened eyes shine with a mischievous glint. She scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes, if it's a chase he wants, game on.

Octavia smirks and pulls away from him. Her eyes soften and she says with a coquettish grin, “No.”

She feels Astarion’s hands drop, he looks into her eyes with a pleading gaze. His brows tilt upward, his eyes become more rounded and soft, his lips turn down with a feigned pathetic pout. “Why not?” A low whine followed by him laying back and propping himself up on his elbows.

“Because.” Octavia smiles wider, she walks over to her wardrobe, and gathers some clothes. “Sometimes, being told no is just as good as being told yes. You have to be patient, Astarion. I can't give you everything all at once. You have to work for it.”

She gives him a kiss at the tip of his nose and turns, walking to the door. She drops the blanket and winks, stepping out before calling back “I won't be long, when I return, you and I are going to have a little talk.”

Astarion sits on her bed in her room. He glances around Octavia’s private space, and takes in the environment. Her bookshelves were full of different types of books. Historical texts, photo books, reference books, the majority of it revolved around the defeat of the Absolute.

That's…well she does work for me at the museum…research, of course.

His curiosity was getting the better of him, the roguish skills itching to be used again.

Astarion opens up one of the drawers of her nightstand. Inside he notices a couple of pens and some little cards. A stack of letters were under those, the topmost one had the name of a man on the return address.

Astarion pulls out the letter, quickly taking it out and unfolding it. He sees a small picture fall to the ground, he picks it up, quickly scanning the letter but stops when he sees “My darling, I long to see you again.”

Was she already in a relationship?? He continues on slowly to catch every detail.

My darling, I long to see you again. It's been at least eight months since you’ve come to visit. Your mother misses you, even if it's just an afternoon tea at her grave. I know you are quite busy at your new job at the museum, but do come by soon? It's almost Heroes’ Day and you know how much your mother loved that day. I sent you the drawing we had made back when you were my little historian, you and your mom looked so happy, figured you would love it. Let me know when you can come visit, I’ll have your favorite tea waiting.

Love always,

Dad

~Oh, I sent that old book and the letters! I knew this job would be what you needed to feel connected to your mom and her family. She would be so proud of you,Tavvy. I know I am.

Astarion’s taken back somewhat. There's something about that nickname that makes a knot grow in his chest. The mysterious familiarity that keeps following him. He shakes it off and looks back at the small drawing in his hand.

A small girl, whom he figures is Octavia, is in the middle of two adults. Her hair is in two buns with braids flowing down her back. A woman who looks like Octavia, is to her left. The woman's skin is tan like Octavia’s with brown curly hair that's tied up in a half up style. She's got gorgeous hazel eyes and her smile is just as brilliant looking as Octavia’s.

To Octavia’s right is what looks like an elven man, also with tan skin. His eyes are a beautiful green like the rings surrounding Octavia’s own eyes. His arm is draped around the woman’s in a tight embrace. They look happy, but a sadness looms over the picture. Astarion flips over the picture, a small note adorns the corner: Altavia, Ralomaer, Octavia: age 12.

Suddenly, Astarion hears some rustling in the room adjacent to Octavia’s. She must be finishing up with whatever she's doing. He quickly stuffs the letter and picture inside the envelope, shoving it inside the drawer and slamming it shut. He grabs a different book and throws himself on the bed, quickly acting preoccupied.

Octavia opens the door and walks in. Her hair is braided in a crown around her head, some tendrils fall on the sides of her temples. She's wearing a loose tunic and some leggings, a woven cardigan keeping her warm against the chill of the darkened room. “Why do I feel like you've gotten yourself into some trouble?”

Astarion lowers the book, an inconspicuous look painted on his face. He quirked an eyebrow to sell the lie. “I haven't the faintest idea what you mean, I was sitting here reading this book on…” he glances at the cover, “’Ecology and Reproduction of the Myconid species’? Huh…it was quite interesting. Like nothing I’ve read before.”

Closing the book, Astarion sits up on the edge of Octavia’s bed. “I mean it did remind me of last night…” he trails off suggestively, dropping his voice in that seductive tone, hoping it takes her off the suspicious trail she seemed to be going down.

“Is that right?” Octavia feeds into his energy, sliding in between his legs, taking the same position she was in before she took off. Astarion’s hands find their place back around her waist.

Octavia giggles and starts to run her fingers in his hair. “So which part reminded you of last night? The spore reproduction or the part where you are basically part of a hive mind that can communicate all at once?”

Astarion shivers under the gentle scratch of her nails on his scalp, a little hum coming out of his mouth. “Hmmm…I don't know. I might have to be reminded of a few key parts.” He runs his hands up her back, nuzzling her chest.

Octavia shakes her head, he clearly had a one track mind. If she was hoping to get her say, she would have to lean in some more. “Key parts like….you running your hands all over me?” Astarion’s face lights up with a fanged grin.

“I see you remember it as well, my little flower.” Astarion begins to kiss her breasts over her clothes, playing with the hem of her tunic. “Why don't we have a little replay of it? Maybe chat more about the parts we liked?”

Octavia laughs and pushes Astarion’s shoulder, making him lay back on the bed.

“Well, I’m glad you brought that up. I would love to have a little chat about last night.” She tried to maintain a serious stance, but seeing how flustered he was she couldn't help but crack a bit. “Are you alright?”

Astarion shakes his head, blinking himself out of his lovestruck trance. “Oh yes, my little temptress, I'm perfectly alright. After that display, are you sure all you want to do is talk?” he slides up onto Octavia’s bed, with that same look that makes her knees weak.

“Astarion…I’m trying to be serious with you.” she scoffs and walks towards him. Astarion stretches out, his lithe and sinewy form laid perfectly on her bed. He played a dirty game, and he knows he always has the upper hand.

“We can talk more here, love.” his blood red eyes pierce through her, picking out the parts that make her body burn. His sly smirk highlights his intentions, but is soothed by the innocent enough movement of his hand swiping the space next to him in bed. “Why don't you join me, sweet girl? This bed is awfully big for just one person…” he holds his hand out expectantly.

Octavia huffs and takes his hand. He leads her onto the bed, his movements soft and delicate against the ardor behind his eyes. She ends up sitting at the head of her bed, her back on the cushioned headboard, Astarion sees a perfect opportunity and lays his head on her thighs.

“You seem particularly comfortable now, are you trying to avoid this conversation?” Octavia runs her fingers through his hair again, its soft curls intertwine with her movements as if they're begging for more of her touch. “Hmmm not particularly, no..but..I can think of a few things I'd rather be doing with my tongue.” Astarion peeks up at her, then nuzzles his head on the swell of her thigh.

“You're so insufferable sometimes you know?” She says with an amused tilt. “You can try to avoid it all you want, but until we have this conversation….” Octavia takes Astarion’s hands, which had begun to snake themselves up her legs, and lifts them off. She starts to slide off the bed when she feels a tug beckoning her back.

Astarion’s arms wrap around her waist and pull her back into the bed. Octavia yelps as she hits the mattress on her side, giggling as Astarion nuzzles into the space between her shoulder and neck. “We are going to talk about this damnit!!” She laughs and turns to lay on her back.

Astarion sighs and copies her. “Fiiiineeee. If you insist. Let's talk then.” He turns his head and pouts at her dramatically. “I know it wasn't that you didn't enjoy yourself. From the way you were pulling at my clothes..” the pout twists into a devilish smirk, a haughty giggle flows out.

Octavia and Astarion lay in her bed, she twists to her side and stares at his profile. He really was incredibly beautiful and this light only enhanced it. She puts her hand on his chest, as his laughter dies, he closes his eyes and hums happily. Octavia felt the butterflies in her lungs going mad.

“What is this? What are we?” Damn, her mouth.

Astarion turns to her, blinking rapidly, his eyes wide with slight surprise. He bites the inside of his lip and smiles nervously. “I don't know…” he starts, “but isn't it nice, to not know?” He nervously smiles, his eyes dart, trying to look anywhere but her face.

Octavia is taken back, she didn't know how serious this would be afterwards. She was hoping for at least a little bit of a chance to grow whatever they had into something more, but with that answer, it seems like this is all it was going to be for him.

“Oh…” she starts, ”is that what you want? I mean I like you, but I..uh..” Octavia goes quiet, she plays with her hands not finding the words to continue.

Astarion turns to look at her, he hates seeing the same heartbreak and confusion he saw in Tav, gods, he's doing it again.

Stop, you fucking idiot.

“Octavia…you aren't just one night that's better to forget…I- I'm not sure what you are just yet…but whatever else could you be? It's all so complicated, honestly.”

He looks up at the ceiling, eyes full of sadness and regret, he swallows and exhales.

“My darling, you mean new possibilities to me. It's been a very long time since I’ve done anything like this. I'm sorry I can't define this yet.” He takes her hand off his chest and kisses the top of it. “I know that whatever you are, for now, you are very important to me.”

Octavia felt her heart shoot to her throat, this was all so different. Even though they had skipped the formality the previous night, she still wanted to know if there was a way to bloom into something more.

Astarion’s past was full of death and regret, he was still a giant mystery to be solved. His pain and grief was an obvious and invasive dark cloud that hung over perpetually drowning him in its downpour.

He pulls Octavia in closer, she trembles slightly, his whole existence terrified her. He could easily kill her, compel her to let him drain her blood, but his soft and vulnerable moments tell her to trust him even through the guarded veil he put up.

Astarion sits up on his elbow and drapes an arm over Octavia, locking her down to the bed. He smiles down at her and brushes some hair behind her ear. He leans down and kisses her cheek, then her nose, and finally her lips.

Octavia felt the warmth of his kisses on her skin. Even though he was technically dead, his touch felt alive and hot. She couldn't help but run her hands all over his hair. He would softly exhale feather soft moans with each pass of her hand through his scalp.

She could feel his emotions pouring into her with each kiss. The hunger and desperation to be loved, each missed chance, every regret. The unbearable weight of his heart being mended slowly with each brush of contact from her. His touch lit her skin in a pleasurable heat.

Astarion feels as if he couldn't stop himself. Each sound she made fueled his desperation to let go and be open to the flames growing within. Flaying and ripping him open from the inside, only to rise from the ashes of his own misery. Octavia’s hands are untangling his heart and cradling it in her loving web.

His hands work their way down to the hem of her sweater, stopping before they explore further. He pulls away, leaving her lips kiss bruised and red. She's fully flushed, lips parted, breathing ragged and heavy. She swallows and blinks a bit, looking up at him, half hooded eyes full of lust and confusion.

“I’m sorry…I went too far, I can't help it..it’s been so long and well..with you, gods I feel like an inexperienced youth. Fucking embarrassing.” He sits up, Octavia props herself up on her elbows and listens. “I've been thinking about you for months, all the things I would do if I had you here exactly like this but how am I supposed to do this and not ruin it?”

Octavia is just watching as he slides off the bed and begins to pace around her room. “Gods, am I really this out of practice? I used to bed so many people no problem, what the fuck is going on now? All I could think about was ruining you with my hands, my mouth, and my cock, all of it but it feels so manipulative to use you as my plaything when you're so sweet and beautiful and patient.”

He monologues, all while throwing his hands up in the air, rambling and not stopping. “Why is this so difficult??? If this was a normal situation I would have bedded you at least 5 times already.”

Octavia was taken back once again, he obviously is on a tangent and his brain is not at all in sync with his mouth. “Astarion…” Octavia interjects, but Astarion is on a roll, nothing can shake him from this rant “This keeps happening to me, I get close to someone and then it goes to shit. This is exactly what happened last time with-”

“ASTARION!” Octavia screams, interrupting him yet again. This time, it works, slapping him out of his passionate word vomit. Her voice was firm, but still laced with concern. “Sit with me.” She pats the space next to her, and holds her hand out, her turn now to lead him.

He looks at her with hesitation and sits on the edge of the bed next to her. “We can just sit here okay? Nothing more if you don't want to.” Octavia wraps an arm around him, bringing him close to her in a warm embrace. She holds him there, feeling him tense up and relax into her arms. His head rested in the crook of her neck again.

They sit in silence, she feels him wrap his arms around her waist. He takes a deep inhale and lets out a long shuddering breath. She feels a tremble come up from the base of his spine and it dissipates throughout his body. Octavia just hugs him tighter as he melts into her touch.

She rubs a hand down his back and she feels him tense up again. He pulls away from her hand immediately, arching his back away from her touch. “I'm sorry, too much?” She says quietly, pulling her hand back and instead placing it on his shoulder. He nods quietly and nestles his head back in its spot on her neck.

Octavia let her hand wander to his hair once more, she noticed earlier how his body reacted to the scratching of her nails on his scalp. His ears would twitch a little, he would breathe in a little slower, his eyes would close, the corners of his mouth would curve up a little.

Astarion leans up and kisses her neck, a soft peck under her jaw. He places a hand on her thigh and buries his head in her neck. Octavia couldn't help but smile at the neediness he was displaying. “ I can't help but feel like I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you.” he spoke quietly into her hair, taking in her scent.

“What do you mean? I think you deserve to be happy if that's what you want. You deserve something real and honest. Everyone does. Even you, even if you don't think so yourself.” Octavia takes her arm off his shoulder and plays with the hair on the back of his head.

Astarion rests his head on her shoulder as she continues. “I don't know what you've been through, but you aren't alone. I’m here aren't I? You have Gale, too…” Astarion huffs as she finishes speaking. “I like you better, though. You're prettier.”

Octavia aims to kiss his forehead, but as soon as she turns her head, Astarion catches her and kisses her deeply. “Tell me what you want, Astarion.” She places a hand on his jaw and rubs at his cheek with her thumb. “I will give you anything, whether it's with me or without as long as you're happy.”

He was taken back by her words, he couldn't imagine his life without her now. It's the same feeling he had with Tav, after he confessed his hidden intentions and foiled plans. The familiarity felt somewhat nice. To be flustered by someone who he considered completely unpredictable.

He kept his hand on hers, the warmth of her skin made him feel the same way, the feeling of home that he had willingly abandoned. All these years running away, spent alone and isolated, now seem to crumble away with her touch. “I want this. I want you. I want it all….. I just don't know if I should after all this time.”

Octavia tilts her head “You sure have a lot of reasons for why you shouldn't be happy. Can I give you one why you should?”

Astarion pulls away from her shoulder, sitting upright. Octavia turns his head and holds his gaze. A soft smile is on her face, as she begins to speak. “You have survived your past. I'm so sorry that it was what it was. I wish I could have known you then, but I know you now. For that, I am thankful for whatever led you here. So…I guess you can be happy we found each other?” She shifts a bit, breaking their gaze, but trying her hardest to console him.

“I’m really bad at this can't you tell?” she says after a few moments of awkward silence. Astarion scoffs “That's putting it mildly, dear. You're awful.” He starts to laugh, Octavia slightly pushes him off her shoulder. He keeps laughing louder and more animated.

Octavia joins him, mostly because of his unhinged response. Eventually he falls back and clutches at his stomach, he keeps going until his eyes start to water. “Gods, Astarion, it wasn't that funny.” she giggles more as he slows his laughter, coughing as he catches the breath he didn't need. “Oh fuck, I'm sorry. I have no idea what the hells that was..”

Octavia smiles and shakes her head. “It's fine. I like hearing you laugh like that. You sounded happy.” she lays next to him, their legs dangling off the bed. He slides his hand into hers and laces their fingers together. He keeps his gaze up at the ceiling not saying anything.

She closes her eyes and relaxes into the bed, their hands clasped still. “This is nice.” he says, his voice sounding hoarse after his laughing fit. “I missed this. The little things.” he sighs, taking her hand and placing it on his chest. Octavia opens her eyes and is greeted by him leaning over her.

“This is nice.” She agrees, and brushes some of his curls behind his ear. He lets out a small shudder and his face scrunches up. “That was new.” he says with an embarrassed laugh as Octavia’s hand lingers on his shoulder. “I look forward to finding out more new things about myself….with you.”

Oh…

“I think I'd like that very much.” Octavia could feel herself blushing, the heat in her cheeks surely leaving a reddish hue on her cheeks. “We don't even have to label anything like I said. No one has to know if you don't want them to. Not yet.” She smiles, her own secret was hidden beneath that statement.

He leans over her and gives her a soft kiss on the cheek, then another on her lips. “Thank you.” Octavia props herself up on her elbows, “For what?” she asks. Astarion takes her hand and kisses it softly, “Giving me a chance at something which I thought I couldn't find anymore. This is truly a gift. I won't forget it. Not for a long time.”

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #fic: memories of us #bg3 headcanon #modern au

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frogchiro · 7 months

Note

Let me just sneak in here. Just want to say thank you for the compliments, it has truly made my day. But I came in here because I just wanted to make sure I have your full permission to add to the COD Gods AU as I have so many ideas and I will admit that I am a world-building fanatic. Especially as I'm thinking about doing another one of my big character analyses but for Makarov this time as I have way too many ideas for God Makarov that I want to charge him rent. Also, I hope it's okay if I am allowed to add to the Slasher COD AU as I have ideas for König and Soap, as I myself see König as a creature hunting in the woods killer who has cannibalistic tendencies while I see Soap as a killer like Kuchisake-Onna (口裂け女) who is an onryō (怨霊); I say that as an onryō exact vengeance to "redress" the wrongs it received while alive while Kuchisake-Onna kills or hurts people by slitting their face through their mouth from ear to ear which is similar to a Glasgow Smile and I think the first part also fits Johnny as I still believe he is not y'know and Slasher Johnny could be extremely injured after the incident which has forced him to stop working so he takes his anger out on everybody else before he can get to Makarov and get revenge.

Also as repayment for you blessing us with your AUs that I have added on to I will be spoiling you the AUs I've been thinking of for the COD boys that I will be talking about later on my blog: Angel AU, Demon AU, Royal AU, Cryptid AU, Mythical Creature AU, Bug AU, Plague AU, Victorian AU, Magic AU, Fairytale AU, Celestial/Solar AU, Wonderland AU, and many more which I will probably list in one post. These will probably take me weeks to do but I will be posting the summaries soon for people to use (and you can use them as much as you want) as the analyses take me around three to six hours to write depending on how much research is needed. I also want to post some other headcanons I have that are just general and my opinions on MW3 ending and how I would have done it which will also make me take longer. But anyone I shall run away now that I've dropped this on your doorstep and if you ever have any questions I shall answer. Sorry about how long this ask is but my family has a waffling issue and I tend to be one of the worst. Now much platonic love, have some cookies, and keep yourself safe but also well-rested.

Please know yourself out with these!! All my ideas are basically free for adding/interpreting them as someone pleases because I truly believe that's what will keep them going and alive!

You have no idea how happy I am that someone as talented and creative as you wants to do such in-depth workd building on my silly whimsical au😭💕💕

I'm sending you much platonical love too and have a good day/night love♡

#kin speaks #asks #interactions

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oddballwriter · 3 months

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Stranger Than Fiction

Summary: Marc moves into a cabin in the woods to escape the risks of being found out as a werewolf but as he lives amongst nature and hears a few tales, he finds that he's not the only living piece of folklore around the forest.

Warnings: Werewolf nonsense. Mentions of forest spirits and fae. The reader is a forest spirit/fae type being in the forest. The reader is referred to using she and her and with fem-associated adjectives. Marc is kind of emo in the beginning but honestly, he's always been like that, like that's just how he is. Only Marc is here and there is no mention or implication of Steven or Jake.

Author’s Snip: I wrote this in one sitting late at night so if any of the grammar or sentences are weird then I'm sorry and also blame my grammar-checking software for not getting it.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1,691

Living in the middle of nowhere woods seems like it would be a given for a man inflicted with being a werewolf to live, but this would be the first time Marc has actually taken on that life. Regardless of the fact that he's from the city of Chicago, the exact opposite of a vast untouched green of nature. In the end, it was for the best, for everyone. He wouldn't run the risk of getting hunted down for what he is, and no one would panic over a wolf creature running loose in the city.

Marc wanted to fade away into the forest and live alone where the forest could hide him both when in and out of his monstrous state. He had found and bought a cabin property deep in the forests of southern Illinois, a very different place than he's used to, but he can adapt. He always has.

When he made it all the way there he got a good in-person look at it. It was nice. Homey. It would do well and he could see a comfortable living in it. It's far from the nearest official town but that's how he wanted it. It's far enough away that no one will bother him or catch the sight of him on a full moon. Even with the nearest cabin considered it was a good enough distance. It was perfect. He could hide here.

Marc did have to meet his 'neighbor', so to speak. He was the man who lived in the cabin nearest to him, as mentioned before. He came saying that he was aware that someone new had come along and wanted to give him a warm welcome. Although Marc wasn't much of a social person he decided to humor the man since he had driven the whole way here and came bearing gifts. Those gifts were food from his personal garden saying "I know there's a market in town but nothing beats the ones you grow in unaltered nature. They're pure and clean, nothing added but what the dirt's already got in it.". Some hippie-ish stuff about Mother Earth and all that. Marc could tell that this man was one of those old men who was tired of the world and wanted to live off the land. Power to him, but Marc couldn't shake off the feeling of being preached at.

Eventually, the man wrapped up his speech, or so Marc thought. Apparently, the pause that Marc took as a wrap was actually the man rerouting his topic. "You ever hear the legends, son?" the man asks. Marc scrunches his face in confusion, "The what?" he asks.

"You know, the legends! About the things that exist here in woods like this." the man exclaims as if Marc was kidding around with him, "The fae folk, the forest spirits, nymphs, what have you." he lists off. Marc shakes his head, "I'm not really a folklore and mythos kind of person." Marc says half-heartedly with a shrug. "Oh, they aren't just stories. I've met a few people who claim to have seen a thing or two here." the man smiles.

Marc crosses his arms unsure of where this guy is going with this. "I'm guessing you're going to tell me about some local cryptid?" Marc asks. "Oh, she's no cryptid, son. She's real. And she's everywhere." the man laughs in a way that is meant to be lighthearted but seems slightly ominous with the words he's said. "And... who is she?" Marc questions. The man clears his throat from his laugh and spins this small tale, "She's believed to be some kind of forest spirit who lives and watches over this part of the forest here. Wandering around making sure no one takes more than they need and occasionally watching those who are here from a distance to see what you're up to." the man explains.

"Some say they see her and that she's as beautiful as the land itself and changes with it in the seasons but she's a hard chase of you try to catch her, running as fast as a quick breeze and disappearing into the trees and the sound of the leaves rustling. but those who try to chase her say that you can hear her giggle in the rustling like it's a game of tag. If you stay on her good side then she has the breeze carry the scent of the forest for you to enjoy and has wild flowers grow around your cabin or helps grow any plants you might have." the man says further.

Again, just some hippie-spiritual-mythos junk, but that story sounds amusing at least. "And what if I make her mad?" Marc asks and that man begins again.

"Oh, well if you get her mad then she has all the trees pent you with their seed pods and nuts or she gets the animals involved. She sends them down to either dig up your property or scare the hell out of you in the middle of the night. Let me tell you something, son. Stags and deer are pretty in the day, but at night when it's just them and their bright unmoving stares in the middle of the darkness it's the thing of nightmares. And if she's real mad by hurting nature then she lets it take a bite right back at you, and Mother Nature is a fearsome thing when scorned." the man tells Marc, with occasional add-ins.

Marc scoffs at the stories and nods along. "You laugh but I swear to it. She's here and she keeps to her deeds. I got greedy last hunting season and shot an extra rabbit. Soon after that, a whole hoard of the little bastards came and ate up all my home-grown food and the squirrels were throwing the scraps in their burrows at me from the trees." he swears. "I still get pelted with one every now and then and at this point I think she's just trying to be funny." he adds.

After some more back and forth, the man leaves to let Marc have his first night in peace as the sun sets and baths the forest in a golden glow. Marc takes the luxury of not having it be a full moon any time soon and watches as the light goes from gold to a soft deep blue and purple and then the black of the night. He can hear the distant sounds of crickets talking in their chirps. As Marc settles into bed and lies in the quiet he finds himself thinking about the story that the man told him. He still feels disbelief in the tale but there's a part of him that doesn't want to be too skeptical. He is a werewolf who came to hide in the forest after all.

After a brief amount of time living in the cabin and counting down the days till his next turn with the full moon, Marc finds himself simply existing in the area around his new home. The trees are still lush with green leaves that shield away the sun but still allow it to be bright enough. He's been using his time outside of going into town to get supplies for the cabin occasionally picking up litter and trash and getting rid of all the dead leaves that have gathered while the cabin has been unoccupied.

He jokes to himself, calling out "I'm cleaning your forest. I hope that's okay with you." to the air as if the tales are true and you truly are watching him. However, he does notice that in the passing days, the patches of dirt around his cabin are being taken by green grass and some wildflowers are starting to bud from miscellaneous spots, and sometimes he smells the scent of the trees as the wind blows by occasionally but he just deems it a coincidence each time.

The first time he had a sign that he was wrong in his dismissal came soon after though on the night first turn here and the morning after. It happened like any other full moon. He painfully turns, runs and wanders the area, all of which is in a blur that feels like watching a slide show of photos taken and various moments. It all happens as it normally does but as he wakes he sees glimpses in his memories of a figure who is illuminated by the moonlight just away from sight but as he looks at them in his memories he feels no sense of danger. Instead just watches from afar as he moves along.

But when Marc truly wakes up, his body aching, and the morning sun burning his sore eyes he finds something strange. He's lying with a ring of flowers around him and some on him. He sits up in shock despite his muscles still recovering after the stress of changing twice in the span of the night. He catches some of the flowers as they roll off seeing that they are picked wildflowers and dandelions, and so are the ones around him.

Marc is reasonably confused and fearful. Did someone find him? Did they see everything? Why did they pick flowers and put them around him? Where the hell are they now? The flowers are still fresh and haven't started sagging yet. All these questions ran through his mind. But just as he's about to call out, he feels a soft breeze pass him and the smell of the forest come to his nose.

Marc looks around and his eyes fall on you a bit away blending in with the colors and hues of the trees and foliage, almost in beautiful camouflage with the surroundings. Marc calls out to you and stammers to get up, but his legs give and he falls back down. He looks back up but you're gone just like that.

Marc is at a loss for words but settles on a confused but still appreciative "Thank you." for the seemingly kind gesture of covering him in flowers, whatever that means, feeling that you're still around to hear it.

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #werewolf!moonboys #werewolf #werewolf au #werewolf!marc spector #fae!reader

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notmanagingmymischief · 11 months

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𝒩.𝐵. || 𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑔𝑜.

WOW, USER NOTMANAGINGMYMISCHIEF ACTUALLY STILL POSTS ORIGINAL WRITING??? :000000

shocker, i know

word count: 1,964

warnings: death/dying, mentions of incestual tendencies on Norman’s part, survivor’s guilt, ambiguous ending?

tag list:

@takemercyonme @when-i-miss-you @damagnificentcookie @straight2hades @marvelgeek09 @herashifts @crime-ninja @onebigsimp @emiliaisdead @sapphic-stress @nonbinary-cryptid-baby @merci-bitch @feartheclipse @mxbeezkneez @fxoehy @ahoy-gays @sythaerin @consciouschunkofmoss

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, send me an ask or comment, or fill in this form! <33

enjoy xx

I had been in love with Norma Bates for as long as I could remember. From the moment I laid eyes on her, probably. It took almost two long years for me to finally confess to her, and three for us to completely and totally settle down with each other. It was on what was supposed to be a calm, easy day—one where neither of us had work to do, and we could just exist with each other—where something finally went wrong.

Well, that isnt entirely true; the past couple of days we’d been having this weird tension between each other. Norma had been busy with the Motel, Norman was being a pain in my ass, and my estranged family had decided to reach out again after years. All of the stress culminated today, though. When we had nothing to distract ourselves with, and somehow it ended up in an argument. One of our worst we’d ever had, in fact. I mentioned something about my parents getting on my ass, which led to the conversation of Norman. This was already a rather sensitive topic for everyone, and I’d been too stressed to filter myself. A stray comment I made had Norma all up in arms, and so here we are; in a screaming match in our shared bedroom.

“You can’t say that! I know you don’t get along, but Norman is my son, whether you like it or not!” Norma exclaims, throwing her hands up exasperatedly. I scoff and cross my arms. “Yeah, thats the problem, Norma. He’s your son.” I give her a Look, “He acts like he’s your boyfriend. Have you seriously never even been slightly freaked out by that?” I make perfectly valid points; Norman has always been weirdly attached to his mother, in a very creepy way. But Norma was unwilling to acknowledge that. We bicker back and forth some more, poisonous words thrown back and forth between us. “At least he didn’t abandon me!”

That. That was the final straw right there. Norma knew exactly how to get to me. I confided with her about my family issues and there she was, using them against me. I reel back with a hiss. “You—what?” I spit, glaring at her. But Norma doesn’t even take it back; I sense we’re both too upset to really consider each other's feelings. I shake my head. “No, thats too much. I can’t—you know that isnt what I did!” Norma mirrors my action, shaking her head and giving me an exhausted look. “Isn’t it?” she asks, and I have to clench my fists to stop from hitting something. We stare each other down for a moment, neither of us willing to speak. And then she does.

“That’s it. I’m done. We, this,” she gestures vaguely between the two of us, “is done.”

It hits me like a bag of bricks. I’m not stupid, or dense. “Are you breaking up with me right now, Norma..?” I ask, tears stinging in my eyes. “I didn’t want to say it but yes, I think that’s what has to happen. I just—I’m done.” I keep staring at her in shock, trembling violently. I can’t speak, can barely even breathe, and Norma wont even look at me. Finally, I choke back a little sob, and with a cracked little voice, I go “Fine. Fine, then. G-Goodbye, Norma Bates,” before turning on my heel and doing my best not to run from our room, from our house, from our life. It doesnt take me more than twenty minutes to grab some essentials, only what I’ll need for a couple days before I can come pick my stuff up, and throw it and myself into my car. Not once does Norma show her face, and I’m almost grateful for it. I only spare one glance up at that old house on the hill before pulling out of the lot and onto the freeway. I don’t know where I’ll go, I don’t know what I’ll do—I just need to get away.

I drive down the highway, vision dangerously blurry from tears, for what could be minutes or hours. I have the radio up as loud as it’ll go, I’m clenching my fists around the steering wheel to the point of my knuckles aching. But nothing matters, because everything just hurts. Everything hurts so much.

It hurts so much that I don’t notice myself shaking so badly my driving has become erratic. It hurts so much that I don’t see myself accidentally veer to the left with a particularly body-wracking sob. But it doesnt hurt enough to stop me from seeing the headlights blinding me. And all I have time to do is let out a choked gasp and shrill shriek before—darkness.

Norma had been a wreck. Since she watched you from what used to be your bedroom’s window, watched you drive away and not look back, since she realized what she had done. She fell onto your—no, her bed—and put her head in her hands. She didnt cry, she couldn’t. But she did just sit there in silence, running through everything that had happened in the past hour in her head. When she did finally get up, her stare vacant and eyes dull, she went about the rest of her day without any of her usual fervor. Dinner with Norman was filled only by him, telling her about whatever taxidermy he’d done that day. And when she went to bed, Norma finally let herself cry. When she went to bed without you, and realized how cold her bed was. When she realized that the sheets hung too loosely over her shoulders because your body wasn't behind her to elevate them with your own. She didn’t sleep that night.

The next morning, Norma Bates is roused from her exhausted silence by her phone ringing. Not by her alarm, it was much too early for that. No, this was a call. With a sleepy groan, the blonde turns to grapple for it, answering the thing without reading the caller ID with an unimpressed “What?”

“Is this….Norma Bates?”

Norma didnt recognize the voice on the other end. “Uh…yes, this is she. Why..?” she mumbled, rolling onto her back. “This is Pine Bay Medical Center. We have Y/N L/N here with us…you were her emergency contact.” This immediately snaps Norma’s exhaustion out of her and she sits up in bed quickly. “What? You—what happened? Y/n? Is she alright?” “Ma’am, please breathe. Are you sitting down?” Norma’s breathing is already rapidly increasing, and she nods before realizing they cant see her and quietly choking out a “Ye-Yes, I am.”

“Mrs Bates, I regret to inform you that Miss L/N passed away this morning at…15:23 PM.”

The world goes silent. It falls out from under Norma and leaves her reeling; she nearly drops her phone from her hands as she just…stares. Stares at her wall in silence. The woman on the end of the line must be speaking to her, but all Norma can hear is a persistent buzzing behind the ringing in her ears as those words bounce around her head. After too long, the woman finally croaks out “Can I see her?” The moment she’s given the okay, she hangs up and snaps into action. She throws on the closet dress she can find, and doesnt even bother checking on Norman as she practically throws herself out the door and down the stairs.

Norma makes it to the hospital in record time, thankfully not stumbling across Alex to give her a speeding ticket, and the car is barely in park before she’s out the door and sprinting into the ER. Her voice shakes something fierce as she begs the receptionist to let her see you; as though begging them to bring you back. It takes too long for them to understand her but when they do, they give her a knowing look. “She’s..already at the mortuary, second floor.” Norma doesn’t bother thanking them before she’s gone, up the stairs and frantically searching for the room.

It doesn’t really sink in, she thinks, until she gets through to the workers and is finally led to the wall. When the small door is opened and a metal slab is slowly pulled out. And when she stares down at you. Down at her girl; peaceful but cold to the touch. It doesn't sink in that you’re gone until she rests a trembling hand on your cheek and can’t feel the warmth of your skin, when you don’t automatically lean into her touch. It isn’t until that moment that the world, reality, finally comes crashing back in and down onto her shoulders. The reality where you’re….not here.

Without being able to stop it, a shrill sob falls from Norma’s lips, and just like that she collapses against the wall. The mortuarists don’t intervene—they’ve seen this happen too many times—and let her grieve. They let her sob and plead and press her fingers to every cut and scratch on your pallid complexion, until she’s finally guided slowly and carefully from the room, still crying and repeating your name desperately. She’s sent into an empty room to be by herself, but she can’t even make it to the chair before she’s on her knees on the ground, sobbing all over again. Face in her hands, nearly screaming with the agony filling her entire body and soul. Gone, gone, gone, gone. You’re gone. Nothing Norma can say or do can take back what happened, and now you’re gone.

You’ll never wake her up with breakfast in bed again. You’ll never laugh at her stupid jokes. You’ll never hug her from behind and press your face into her hair as you grumble about the workweek’s stress. She’ll never kiss you again. She’ll never stay awake talking until past midnight about anything and everything again. She’ll never even…see you again.

Norma doesnt know how long she stays like that; eventually someone must have shown up because now she’s sitting in an uncomfortable chair and being asked too many questions, being talked at too much, and everything’s too loud. And Norman is there. He appeared a few hours back, but didn’t dare try to speak to his mother. She was too deep in her grief to even recognize his presence yet, and when she answers questions they’re brief and mumbled. The clearest thing that passes by her hearing is a doctor saying “Your wife was very strong in the OR. She fought hard, and it’s a real shame she didn’t make it.”

Her wife? When had she been put into the role of your wife? It was only once she was given your phone that she realized her contact was titled “wifey <333”, her name only written in the subtext inside the contact info. This brought on a new wave of tears. More unidentified time passes, until Norma is finally left alone with Norman in silence.

“I’m done.”

Norman looks up at his mother with a confused look. “What did you say, mother?” She slowly raises her head from her hands; “‘I’m done.’ That’s the last thing I said to her,” she breathes, eyes glistening with more tears that prepare to join the ones already streaming down her cheeks. “The last thing she thought she knew was that I hated her,” Norma chokes, sobbing again and letting her head fall back into the wall. She doesn’t even register the dull sting, too consumed by guilt and shame and grief.

What flowers will they have at your funeral? Did you ever write a will? Who would they tell? Would she let your family know?

But worst of all—how would she live with herself knowing that this was all her fault?

#my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #norma bates #norma bates x reader #vera farmiga #vera farmiga x reader #vera farmiga fanfiction #lgbtq #gay #angst #tw death #tw inc*st #a home where the heart can never go

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fairy-writes · 1 year

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Vampire!Viktor x Female!Reader 03

part one of vampire!viktor HERE

part two of vampire!viktor HERE

all parts of this series are tagged under cryptid!viktor

cryptid!viktor also includes my pieces with merman!viktor

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @aikoiya

lemme know how long you guys think this miniseries should be cuz i have absolutely no clue :)

(catch my doctor who quotes, lol)

Trigger Warning(s): strangulation, blood, and mentions of suicide

viktor scares you six months into what you could call a tentative friendship.

the mansion is immaculate when you enter that night. courtesy of your constant hard work. viktor does little for the upkeep, leaving it to you to clean and keep the estate in a better condition than you found it.

because like you had told him before—no one deserved to live like he did.

little did you know that those words had a profound effect on the vampire.

you heave the large front door open, listening to the silence of the hinges that squeal no more. viktor isn’t waiting for you at the top of the stairs as he normally is. waiting for you to talk to him while he simply doesn’t reply. he never really did unless it was about his work. so you made it a habit to ask him about it.

if nothing else, to make sure he didn’t feel lonely.

viktor is in his study when you find him. he’s hunched over one of his two desks, his head in his hands, and he’s shaking. that in and of itself makes you frown. is he okay?

“viktor?” you ask, and he winces,

“leave now,” he says—almost growls—and you flinch at the dark tone in his voice.

what was going on? you try asking him as much, and he just reiterates what he said before.

“leave now. before i hurt you.” he snaps, whirling to look at you, and you take a step back.

his eyes are black.

sclera, iris, and all.

it’s a pit of despair that is filled with fear, and anger, and hunger.

“viktor…?” you whisper, and things go terribly wrong.

there’s a flash of brown, and you’re flung against the wall with a hand at your throat and a vision filled with those hungry black eyes. his mouth is twisted in a snarl, and his sharpened incisors are your main focus in the dim candlelight.

was he finally going to kill you?

had he broken down and decided you were a nuisance that he needed to get rid of?

were you going to die here?

your hands scramble to get in between his hand and your throat to give you some air as you were choking. your vision was going dark, swimming in circles in a mix of brown and gold and warm tones from the candles and lamps.

that was when you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks, the bony vertebrae of his spine poking through the back of his vest and shirt, and the knobbiness of his elbows. his slim fingers still grip the column of your throat with supernatural strength… but his fingers are trembling.

a thought dawns on you as you spot the darkened veins coming through his pallid skin.

“you’re hungry,” you choke out, and he stiffens, something coming through the darkness of starvation.

realization.

abruptly, he lets go, and you slide to your knees, skirts billowing around you as you cough and gasp for deep lungfuls of air. you know for a fact that you’ll have bruises. you can already feel it swelling when you touch the tender skin.

but that doesn’t matter. you’re worried about viktor.

you look to the vampire to see him clutching the sides of his head, teeth grinding back and forth as he lets out a quiet whine.

and that sound broke your heart.

“how can i help?” you say, voice rough from the strangulation. he scoots away as you get closer, falling onto his side in his haste.

“stay away.” he tries, and you shake your head, making it to his side and gently prying his hands away from his hair.

they come away bloody, bits of flesh stuck underneath his nails from how hard he was digging them into his skull.

“i’ll hurt you. i already have.” he whimpers, and you offer him what you hope is a warm smile.

“you’d never hurt me. i trust you with that,” you whisper and make up your mind.

he was your friend. you didn’t want to see him in pain.

you hold out your wrist and roll up the sleeve of your dress. his black eyes latch onto the sight of the exposed skin, and you can practically see him drooling before he wrenches his eyes away and shoves his hand over his mouth. it only succeeds in smearing blood all over his lips.

“drink.” you implore, and he shakes his head,

“i can’t.” he croaks, but you can see the gears in his head turning.

how much could he take to help himself?

would he hurt you if he did?

could he have this?

“you can have this. don’t torture yourself. i consent to let you drink my blood. please, viktor. i don’t want you to die.” you beg, getting desperate as you don’t want what was your only friend to waste away.

those words turn out to be a mistake.

viktor bared his fangs; blood smudged his teeth from his hand.

“death would be a gift,” he growled, and you flinched away.

did he want to die?

he wasn’t going to starve himself to death as a way of suicide, was he?

“viktor, please, just drink,” you say, ignoring his comment, and practically shove your forearm under his nose. he turns to look at you one last time before taking your arm in his hands.

they’re inexplicably gentle. not at all like his grip from earlier.

his incisors don’t hurt as they pierce your skin. was there some kind of venom to numb the pain? you sit patiently, a bit dazed, as your blood leaves your body. all the while, viktor is silent, no slurping or gulping. just the gentle caress of his mouth on your skin.

eventually, the sucking feeling stops, and he lets go with a gasp. he had told you once that he didn’t need to breathe and only did so to keep some semblance of humanity.

you watch in astonishment as his body changes. his skin turns to its regular tone, and his shoulders visibly fill out before your eyes. soon, he looks healthy. he looks good, handsome even. not sickly and deathly pale as he normally did.

had he been starving all this time?

viktor hunches over his knees for a moment, breathing heavily as he swallows the blood. then, he speaks.

“thank you,” he says softly, and you place a hand on his shoulder. he still flinches away but then leans into the touch. as if not used to the feeling but craving it nonetheless.

was he touch-starved?

most likely, especially after living alone for who knows how long.

“are you okay?” you say, and he pauses before nodding,

“i am now.” is all he says before getting to his feet. he wobbles once, twice, before righting himself and hobbling to his desk where his cane was leaning against the table. he grips it with steady hands and leans his full weight against it.

you get to your feet and approach the man. he shies away briefly, but he lets you touch his hand when you persist. it’s warm, not cold as it usually was, as a result of your blood coursing through his system. it was a strange feeling. you were used to being the only warm creature in the entire estate, save for the vermin and other small animals.

it felt… nice.

#viktor arcane x reader #viktor arcane x you #viktor arcane x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #arcane viktor x y/n #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #arcane x reader #viktor x reader #arcane league of legends #arcane: league of legends #cryptid!viktor #fairy writes

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still-a-morosexual-help · 1 year

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Mammon x GN! Unnamed MC Reversed Au!

Chapter 4

Tags: • Alternate Universe - Role Reversal • Angst with a Happy Ending • Hurt/Comfort • Enemies to Friends to Lovers • Possessive Behavior • Protective Lucifer • Self-Hatred • Gender-Neutral Pronouns • Dubious Morality • Oblivious Mammon • Parental Lucifer • Mammon Needs a Hug • Self-Esteem Issue

Summary:

In a world where demons are marginally more demonic, a human ignores all the various red flags and makes a strange new (lifelong) Friend

So so I only had 1/5th of chapter 4 written and I have an exam (that I am severely unprepared for in less than 2 weeks) so I was planning to write and post chapter 4 after that, in probably a month? But the response I got to chapter 3 was!!??? I don't think I've ever suddenly gotten so many comments in the span of a couple days and it was absolutely amazing and I was so inspired & motivated I literally couldn't not write this because it was all just there and now this is so far my longest chapter on this fic and anyway if you read this far this is to say thank you to all the amazing people who took the time out of their day to comment, you have no idea how much it meant to me, specially because I've been dragging writing this fic for two years now because I had 0 motivation and honestly you lit a fire under my ass and it was amazing and I had so much fun with this chapter so yeah thank you again

Tag List (if you want to be added like this -> post. If you want to be removed lemme know);

@ashplsstfu

@kadythethief

@aspiring--cryptid

@wanderwelle

@sansarawheelvictim

@nagitokomaeda-the69th

@knight-clover

@swagstells

@mcx7demonbros

@butterflywaffle

@believemeimeverywhere

@weareparanoidcynicalpeople

@jolynetodd

@lunaslemon

@silverinnia

@val-monny

@alexeizzo

@obervation-subject-753

@niacks

@naughtybodypillow

@juwuuzuo-blog

@baby-jeonginnie

@ask-angel0

@yourimaginaryfriiendd

@whatamidoing89

@mammonismyfirstman

@kuro-personal

@urmomondeez

@pandapantslovesyou

@mammoneythegreat

@kawaiiartsstuffowo

@novanight87

@oooowl

@pajamasatepb

@saccharineconcinnity

@yourboyhack

@itzblazekun

@medicinalkiwis

@heavenly-greed

@sidgethegamer

@timetomakeanewwish

@mozzarellatelevision

@tjwks888

@stale-cheetos-and-fragile-egos

@obeymeharemowner

@hauntedcatnerd

@darkflowerav

@mxsunnybop @betta-phish @anxiously-sidequesting

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shapeshiftersvt · 2 months

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Cryptid Collection Spotlight: The Jackalope

We're going to be spending this week infodumping about the six cryptids we chose to feature in our Cryptid Collection! We'll be posting about the lore and origins, our thoughts, experiences, and relationships with all of these cryptids, and we encourage folks to share their own!

Today we're talking about the Goncharov of cryptids, the Jackalope!

👣The Cryptid Collection 🐇Jackalope Travel Poster 👥Cryptid Binders & Sportsbras 🧵Cryptid fabric designs

Myths, legends, and tales of horned rabbits or hares have existed throughout human history and across the globe, from Central America to 13th century Persia and throughout Europe.

But we're not here to talk about those. We're here to talk about the Goncharov of cryptids, the Jackalope.

The lore of the Jackalope is particularly fun because it's a centuries-long exercise in collective storytelling. It's hard to say what the first stories were and where they originated, which is unusual with US cryptids. Even if the veracity of the reports and photos is in question, we do generally know where and when sightings of other cryptids happened, with documented newspaper articles, police reports, and the like. They detail what happened and what the cryptid looked like and where exactly they were spotted.

But instead of dates and locations and detailed descriptions of encounters, what we have for the Jackalope are lists traits, mostly unrelated, all layered on top of each other, each more outlandish than the last. It's easy to see the ways the lore of the Jackalope was told and built upon over and over — a collective folklore invented by anyone inspired to add to it and enthusiastically encouraged and welcomed by the rest.

The Jackalope is a hare, indistinguishable from a normal hare (also sometimes called a jackrabbit) except save for the pair of antelope-like antlers growing from its head — hence the name, Jackalope (not to be confused with the antelope jackrabbit, which is just a normal hare native to Arizona and Mexico). It's a fearsome antagonist of hunters, who have to include stovepipes in their regular hunting gear to wear as leg armor or risk being gored by the vicious Jackalope's horns. But a hunter can leave out some whiskey at night, preferably during a full moon, and wait for the Jackalope to chug it down and they'll have no problem hunting that wily, but now drunk, Jackalope. Which, of course, when cooked tastes quite similar to lobster. When cowboys would sit out in the desert singing songs around the campfire, the Jackalope would sing back to them, mimicking their voices. Or maybe it would sing along, always taking the tenor harmony. Maybe it only did that when there also happened to be a lightning storm. Because, of course, the Jackalope has an affinity for lightning storms, since it can only breed within the microseconds of a lightning flash.

The crowning glory of collective meme of the Jackalope, though, was the brainchild of two brothers, Douglas and Ralph Herrick, in Douglas, Wyoming. According to Ralph, the two returned from a hunting trip in 1932 having bagged, among other things, a jackrabbit which they tossed haphazardly into their taxidermy shop. It landed amongst some deer antlers and Douglas was struck with inspiration. They attached the antlers to the jackrabbit's head, mounted it in the style of a hunting trophy, and sold their newly minted Jackalope for $10 (around $214 today) to the owner of a local hotel who displayed it in the lobby.

That first Jackalope head started a whole Jackalope taxidermy business for the Herricks, which eventually exploded into a modern day Jackalope industry. Books have been written, adding to the meme with winks and nods back to the Herricks and Douglas, WY. In fact both the town of Douglas and the greater Wyoming have enthusiastically taken up the adopted and added to the lore. You can find informative articles about the Jackalope on official government websites. Stores in Douglas sell Jackalope milk. And the local Chamber of Commerce issues Jackalope hunting licenses, which permits the bearer to go Jackalope hunting on June 31st, between midnight and 2:00 AM, but only provided the hunter has an IQ between 50 and 72.

Of course when you read anything about the Jackalope, you'll inevitably see something about Shope papilloma virus. Because even when the meme is obviously a meme, there will always be someone who wants to try to explain what it "really" is.

But we don't think the Jackalope really needs explaining. The Jackalope is the manifestation of the human desire to connect and make a Weird Little Guy and tell each other stories about it.

#jackalope #cryptids #cryptozoology #wyoming #shapeshifters #the cryptid collection

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thisisnotthenerd · 8 months

Text

alright here we go again. for this episode of thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats, we're talking seasons. specifically how to categorize them because not all d20 seasons are run the same way. here goes:

season concepts

this list is not intended to be perfect, it's either official description or how i can best describe them in a few words:

Fantasy High Freshman Year: John Hughes/DND

Escape from the Bloodkeep: The Villains Side of Lord of the Rings

The Unsleeping City: DND/NYC

Tiny Heist: Ocean's 11/Borrowers

A Crown of Candy: Game of Thrones/Candyland

Pirates of Leviathan: Pirate City/Insurance Fraud

Fantasy High Sophomore Year: John Hughes/DND with a Haunted Forest

The Unsleeping City Chapter II: DND/NYC in Quarantine

Mice & Murder: Wind in the Willows/Sherlock Holmes

Misfits & Magic: What if Americans went to Hogwarts?

The Seven: John Hughes/DND but WOMEN

Shriek Week: Cryptid Dating Sim

A Starstruck Odyssey: Retrofuturistic Space Opera with Buffoons

Coffin Run: Dracula's Followers save Dracula

A Court of Fey & Flowers: Regency/Fairies

Neverafter: Horror/Fairytales

The Ravening War: Game of Thrones/Candyland + Wartime Espionage

Dungeons & Drag Queens: DND meets Drag Queens

Mentopolis: Noir/Inside Out/Retrofuturistic

Burrow's End: Watership Down/DND

if you read through, you'll notice some repetitions--several are in the same d20 created universe. those are:

those are helpful for understanding the tone/genre chart & the shifts therein, which i borrowed from the wiki:

now there are some other classifications i would add--thankfully i have my spreadsheet to do just that:

and that's all i have to say for this time. check out the spreadsheet for a better look at the charts.

EDIT (10/21/23): adding a few more charts for perusal and because i think length/vibe is a fun way to sort these seasons:

sorted by length

the first chart is sorting by length; we have:

short and sweet (4 episode seasons):

misfits & magic

shriek week

dungeons & drag queens

on the salami scale* (6 episode seasons):

Escape from the Bloodkeep

Tiny Heist

Pirates of Leviathan

Coffin Run

The Ravening War

Mentopolis

10/10 would watch again (10 episode seasons)

mice & murder

the seven

a court of fey and flowers

burrow's end

in it for the long haul (17-20 episode seasons/intrepid heroes seasons)

fantasy high

the unsleeping city

a crown of candy

fantasy high sophomore year

the unsleeping city chapter ii

a starstruck odyssey

neverafter

the other chart sorts the seasons by how i would adapt them. sometimes this is based on content. sometimes it's based on gm style. sometimes, it's just the vibe the season gives off as a whole. without further ado:

adaptation styles

feature film (live action):

escape from the bloodkeep

misfits & magic

dungeons & drag queens

these seasons are short enough to fit in a single feature film and not quite long enough for a series. the source material just feels more live action to me, especially because there are other seasons that just feel more animated. keep in mind there will be a practical effect focus. just imagine the balloon elf. cartoon logic, live action movie.

feature film (animated):

tiny heist

pirates of leviathan

mice & murder

mentopolis

burrow's end

a bunch of these are the little guy seasons. you can't tell me you wouldn't want a heist movie with characters voiced by the mcelroys, jess ross, and lily du. pol is a spinoff movie of the fantasy high series.

tv series (live action):

the unsleeping city

the unsleeping city (chapter 2)

a starstruck odyssey

a court of fey and flowers

these are long enough to be series with some depth. tuc is on here because it feels like a superhero series. they're teaming up to save new york, but also really finding the humanity in each other. the funny reason is because finding someone to play ricky matsui is hilarious. also i want to see a kugrash puppet.

aso is on here because it's space opera and watch the gunner channel be bozos in live action? hilarious. i've seen some animatics that are incredible though, so this season could go either way.

acofaf is here because i'd want to see the costume department go ham. bridgerton but fairies? guess what. diverse actors, tons of practical effects, a little raunchy, a little heartbreak, what more could you want.

tv series (animated):

fantasy high

fantasy high sophomore year

the seven (miniseries)

a crown of candy

the ravening war (miniseries)

neverafter

as stated earlier fantasy high is a running animated series with two current spinoffs: one movie (pol) and one miniseries (t7). combination high school slice of life with action/adventure.

acoc is a game of thrones style series--animated to keep the comedy, with trw functioning as a hotd style prequel series. the calorum seasons could easily read live action though, just like aso could be animated.

neverafter is animated, but the style changes throughout the season. maybe they start live action and become animated when they wake up in the new timeline. no change in world physics, no acknowledgement, just a seamless switch. ooh maybe they shift to traditional animation when they're in the lines between.

video games:

shriek week

coffin run

these come down to gm style and also system. shriek week is already a cryptid dating sim. coffin run is crunchy, a little bit horror with a lot of adventuring options to explore.

anyway, i hope you enjoy. check out the spreadsheet if you'd like.

*this is in reference to the adventuring academy episode the new mr. peanut, wherein lou wilson creates a snack rating system for brennan lee mulligan based on a scale of 1-5 almonds. exceeding the 1-5, i.e. reaching 6, means you go to the salami scale.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 meta #thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats #dimension 20 statistics

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darthstitch · 2 years

Text

Strange Things That Happened In History Class

Cryptid Teachers

Professor Gadling had to take a moment. He really did.

It was that or explode into hysterical laughter right that very second and that really wasn't going to help his cause now, was it?

The paper he was trying to grade was supposed to be an essay on the suicide of Crown Prince Rudolf at Mayerling and its indirect effect on World War I. Instead, what he got was "Our Four Cryptid Teachers on Campus."

And a List, which deserved to be quoted in its entirety:

a. Professor Robert "Hob" Gadling - Probably knew Shakespeare IRL; explains why he has such a hate-boner for him

b. Professor Adam Pierson - has an actual motherfucking SWORD hidden somewhere in his clothes (maybe it's like Hammerspace?!!) and might possibly DUEL other immortals; maybe the OLDEST immortal because he talks about ancient EGYPT like he's been there, done that and worn the t-shirt

c. Professor Duncan Macleod - the OTHER sword-wielding immortal

d. Professor Nicholas Chevalier - VAMPIRE?!!! OMG?!!! Also, his Dad is legit creepy and we sincerely believe he's legit a vampire?!!!

Honestly, there was only one, sane, sensible way to respond to this.

Dustin, interesting essay choice there, lad, but I was rather expecting something about poor Crown Prince Rudolf and not speculations about my cryptid status. Incidentally, thank you for realizing that I'm not the Oldest Immortal around, yes, Professor Pierson wears his Ancient Egypt T-shirt with pride and yes, you'd do well to steer clear of Lucien Lacroix, that one gives me the willies.

You have a day to give me the right essay, so chop chop!

2. The Cat Thing

"So maybe his fursona is a cat, did ya ever think of that, genius?!"

"Ahahahaha, right, sure, Steve, he uses meows, purrs and trills like a legitimate language and the cats understand him - this is NOT a fursona thing my friend!"

"Also, Steve-o, I didn't think you knew about things like fursonas..."

"Eh, you've been around the Internet long enough, you pick up on some things, Wheeler."

"So Murphy speaks Cat like legitimately, actually speaks Cat, not just like us humans doing random meows."

"Yep."

"Score 1 for the Cryptid Candidacy! We're adding Murphy to the list."

"Actually, humanity knew how to speak feline once. The knowledge was lost, aeons ago. Isn't that right, Miette?"

"Meow!"

"I could tell you that Story, if you've a mind to listen."

"GYAAAAH!!!!"

3. Typhoon Morpheus

First off, Isabel didn't really actually mean to eavesdrop.

She'd submitted the wrong paper for the classwork they'd done today and while it wasn't as spectacular a mistake as Dustin Henderson's Cryptid List - it was still, obviously, the wrong paper. So she was just hurrying to fix things, although she was a little nervous, because Professor G seemed to be in a bad mood the whole day.

She was just about to knock on the door when she heard:

"Look, Gadling, you gotta do something. Caw!"

That voice sounded oddly familiar.

"Oh, Christ, what now?"

"Whatever it is you two did, fix it, for the love of Murphy. Do you see these feathers, man? I am soaking wet - it's been raining in the Dreaming and it hasn't stopped. Lucienne's already got all the rest of us trying to save the books in the Library from the flooding."

"Raining."

"Yeah. The boss thinks you don't love him anymore. So, boom, cue the rain. Thunder and lightning. Sturm und Drang - the works, you know?"

"Wait. Hang on, he thinks we've broken up?!!"

"Duh? Yeah?!!"

"Oh for Chrissakes, it was just a silly, ridiculous argument - I'm - hey, Matthew, remind me to kiss the stupid out of that idiot. After I yell at him. And kiss him stupid again."

"Reminder set, Other-Boss. Can we go now?"

Isabel told herself she was never, ever, going to speak of this to anyone - even if the fact that she had witnessed Matthew talking was probably enough to confirm Murphy's Cryptid Status on Dustin's stupid list.

4. Stranger Things

"Run this by me again, love," Professor Gadling said, in obvious bewilderment. "You're a Dungeon Master? What is that?"

"Not anything kinky, Professor G! AHAHAHA!" Dustin Henderson said in overly cheerful tones.

Murphy slanted the boy a look of wry amusement. "I think he understands that already."

"He's our DM for Dungeons and Dragons, Professor," said Will Byers. "It's a storytelling game."

"Ah, of course, a storytelling game, why wouldn't His Darkness the Prince of Stories be interested in that?" Professor Gadling said wryly.

"He's the best DM ever," volunteered Iggy Pop. "Like, the way Eddie went down fighting the demobats with Metallica, that was like, truly epic."

Murphy inclined his head in a regal almost-bow. "I can only but inspire. And I rather enjoyed young Eddie's performance. Truly something only a Master Bard could do."

"I'm still dead though!"

"Relax, man, we'll bring you back in flashbacks or something. Or maybe make you into a vampire!"

"Hey, you'd better - because I am this close to writing the Love Song of Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington and posting it on AO3!"

Professor Gadling knew when to give in. "Fine, you can use The New Inn for your session tonight. Just try not to wreck the place while you're off trying to fight the forces of darkness or whatever."

Murphy leaned over to drop a kiss into his hair. "We'll put all the breakables away before we begin our quest anew, dearest."

-end-

Footnote the First: Shortly after Dustin compiled his List of Cryptid Teachers on Campus, a new Professor joined the faculty, having retired from his former tailoring job at Kingsman. His name? Michael Percival Archangelus.

Footnote the Second: Dream of the Endless is not quite sure how he ended up adopting Hob's students and joining their D&D group, but he is quite charmed at their imagination and creativity and thoroughly enjoyed the idea of designing a villain formidable enough to test them.

Footnote the Third: Look, Dream still hadn't quite gotten all the nuances of a healthy relationship but he's at least figured out that minor spats and squabbles do not equate to breaking up and ending things forever. Hob's made sure of that. The kisses definitely helped.

****

Did I also just crossover Forever Knight, Kingsman and Stranger Things into this ridiculousness? Yes, yes I did. Nobody tell Neil.

Also, the "Michael" in this story is the headcanon Michael I came up with for the Lucifer show. Except obviously, this Michael isn't an evil twin douchecanoe but is an actual legit good guy... who uh.... spent a few years with Kingsman.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream/hob #dreamling #stranger things #highlander #forever knight #i crack what i want #bwahahahahaha #nobody tell neil

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indierpgnewsletter · 1 year

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New Games on Itch.io - January!

This is a post from the Indie RPG Newsletter! Before we get to the games themselves, let me talk about itch.io for a minute. The website was designed for selling videogames but the indie RPG scene adopted it like a hermit-crab chancing upon a toy truck on the beach. This has led to some strange problems. The RPG category is called “physical games”, for example. More generally, it’s a bit confusing to navigate for the average customer.

So why has this eccentric site become the host of this glorious explosion of indie game design and creativity? I can’t say for sure. Maybe its because it was designed as a protest against Steam and turns out that DriveThru has a lot of the same problems. Maybe it’s because the site makes it incredibly easy to publish games. Maybe it’s just a coincidence - a quirk of luck, just network effects compounding into something greater.

But regardless, there’s cool stuff everyday on that site - a LOT of cool stuff. So here’s my attempt at curating the games that came out in January. I found these games either by browsing the site or through people notifying me with this form. Now the important disclaimer is that I haven’t read or played most of these games. This list is me excitedly pointing out things in the shop window, take it in that spirit. My taste is idiosyncratic, so please publish your own lists! And maybe send me a link, I’d love to see them!

Itch.io January Roundup

blasé monotony by Apri describes itself as “a duet game about having conversations while bored at work” but that description hides this dramatic second act. An astronaut and someone in the control room start talking and then things start going wrong… (Free/PWYW)

Lost & Shelved by Donogh McCarthy is a solo game about a librarian finding strange and ephemeral things in the pages of returned books. I’m a sucker for anything about librarians and Donogh McCarthy is a real indie darling as far as I’m concerned.

Undisturbed by GGoldmen is a solo journalling game about dissecting human cadavers. Seems like a very thoughtful game on a grotesque subject! (Free/PWYW)

A Sage’s Salary by krushna is a solo game about a student and their sage. From an Indian designer, sages aren’t neutral figures - they’re a caste. Which makes this more interesting! I started playing but haven’t finished my playthrough of this.

Apocalypse Roadtrip by Mynar Lenahan is a forged in the dark game where you dodge “roaming Kaiju, military bombings, otherworldly cryptids, UFO fleets, and other survivors (friendly and not)”. That sounds like a good time!

5 Act Play by K-Ramstack is a solo roleplaying game where you create a 5 Act Shakespearean play based around prompts.

Dice of War by Torsten Kaltenecker is a comic game about “battles, historians and intellectual disagreements”. Um, yes! Also bonus points for “sulking in a dignified way is recommended”. (Free/PWYW)

The Belles of the Ball is an adventure by boyproblems for Heroes of Myth and Mettle. “A masquerade ball, an ancient mysterious city, a wealthy man playing at vigilante, and the Zool Chamber of Commerce. It's a party you won't want to miss.” (Free/PWYW)

Conflictus Ad Astra by Gabriel Ciprés is an expansion for the very cool (and free) game Space Knights, which is a kind of PbtA Warhammer where each player controls their own legion. (Free/PWYW)

Cold Decisions: The Cult of Namenlos by Mundos Infinitos is a “cult simulator” and honestly, enough said.

Honourable mentions: A complete, final version of Apocalypse Frame, the fast and tactical mecha game, came out this month. Also, D12 and Delve is a dungeon-delving RPG in 12 words by WH Arthur where your character is a business card.

#indie rpg #ttrpg #rpg #ttrpg community #ttrpg design

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kassiekole22 · 1 year

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Breakfast For Two, Mainly For One

Picture lightly edited by me.

Pairing: Chris x Ashley Description: Chris wakes up early to cook Ashley breakfast. The only problem: he has never actually cooked before... Warnings: This Is Probably One Of The Sweetest Fics I Have Ever Written So Be Warned: This Contains A Deadly Amount Of Fluff. Word Count: 1.2k A/N: I haven't written a non-x reader fic in FOREVER! Like, the last one I ever written was for Jalim and I can't even remember the last time I wrote for that ship. This was completely a spur of the moment thing but writing it made me so happy, so there will definitely be more Chrashley content coming from me in the future. 💖 (Also, I've begun using a grammar and punctuation checker to make sure I'm writing correctly, but I don't know if it's a legit site, so if there are any mistakes, please let me know. 🙂) Main MasterList: 🖤 TagList: @lorebite, @yellowroses-world, @house-of-kolchek, @koexchange, @yesitsloulou, @mistmoose, @jasonexo, @mornandil, @fortune-fool02, and @raven-the-cryptid. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

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Chris's eyes slowly began to open, but he quickly closed them again as a yawn escaped through his lips. The room was lit with an orange hue due to the early morning sun peaking through the half-drawn curtains. He turned his head to read the alarm clock — that had been shut off since it was the weekend — but everything was blurry. He reached to the bedside table to retrieve his glasses and put them on to read that it was 8 am. He looked down at the lovely little redhead in his arms — the love of his life — curled up at his side and still fast asleep.

He watched her for a few minutes, taking in all the details of her face and took note of how her pretty eyelashes would flicker every now and then as she dreamed. Remembering what he had planned for the day, Chris carefully wiggled out of Ashley's grasp and snuck out of the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him before heading to the kitchen.

Knowing that Ashley was a fairly sound sleeper, Chris knew that he didn't have to worry about noise once he got to the kitchen. He took a pan out of the drawer and set it on the stove before going to the fridge to retrieve the package of bacon he had bought the night before on his weekly grocery run. He laid a few strips on the pan before turning the burner on.

The bacon was tricky for him. He had only really made cereal for breakfast when he and Josh shared an apartment in their early twenties. And Ashley became the cook of the house when he had moved in with her after Josh had found a place of his own. But today he wanted to do something special for Ashley — something to show her how much he loved and appreciated her.

Once he had finished struggling through the bacon, he then went to the cupboard and took out some pancake mix before pulling up a screenshot on his phone of a pancake recipe that he found on some 'cooking for beginners' website.

He followed the recipe as carefully as he could, making sure to get everything as correct as possible — although that plan failed when he couldn't find the measuring cups. So, he decided to eyeball it if needed. Sure, the mix looked a bit too runny and lumpy by the time he was done, but he was sure it would be fine.

While he waited for the pancake to be ready to flip, he decided to set the table. He went to the closet and pulled out a table cloth that he had secretly bought the day prior and put it on the table — before setting two plates and some cutlery down for the two. He even put some yellow lilies — Ashley's favorite flower — in a vase for the centerpiece.

Everything was looking perfect. The next thing on the list was to finish the food— "Shit!" Chris cursed when he realized that he had left the pancake on the stove for way too long. He ran into the kitchen and quickly flipped the pancake over to see that it was black on the other side. He sighed while deciding that he would eat that one because to him, Ashley deserved better.

A few more burnt pancakes later and many failed air flips as well, resulting in pancake mix on the floor and the ceiling, Chris was finally done making pancakes and decided to make some eggs as well. Luckily for him, eggs were much easier than pancakes and didn't take long at all. He had just finished placing the food on the plates when Ashley stumbled into the kitchen while rubbing her eyes.

She removed her hands from her eyes and they widened at the sight before her. There stood Chirs — with a nervous smile on his face — waiting to see her reaction. Trying hard not to scrunch up her nose at the awful smell, Ashley smiled kindly at her new husband and walked over to press a sweet kiss on his cheek. She then hugged him tightly while burying her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"Thank you, Chris." She murmured — her voice being muffled by his chest. This made Chris's nervous smile turn into a genuinely happy one.

"You're welcome, Ash. You deserve it." He then chuckled at his words. "Actually — you deserve better. I'm sorry it's so bad. I'm no gourmet chef at all."

She giggled as she pulled away from him just enough to peer up at his blue eyes with her green ones. She didn't care if he burnt every single crumb, she was still grateful for his efforts. No man had ever treated her as kindly as Chris did.

"It's ok, Chris — Really. I'm sure some of it is edible." She joked and he laughed, wanting to smack his forehead with the palm of his hand because of his stupid mistakes. "Seriously—" She then looked at him with pure love in her eyes. "It means the world to me. Thank you, Chris."

She stood up on her toes to place a gentle kiss on his lips, which he returned while softly placing his hands on each side of her face to caress her cheeks and to keep the kiss lingering for a bit longer. Once they broke the kiss, Chris leaned down to rest his forehead against hers.

"So, shall we eat?" Ashely asked him — her voice barely above a whisper as her lips turned up into that little smile that he adored so much.

"Nah. That would be abuse if I made you eat that." He joked and she laughed. "How about cereal? Now I'm a master at that!"

"Oh, for sure! I don't think I have tried your famous Lucky Charms mixed with Fruit Loops and Frosted Flakes." She thought about it for a minute and then shook her head. "Nope. I haven't."

"Hmmm… Letting you try my famous Lucky Fruit Flakes? That's a big step in our relationship." He said in an overly serious tone as he parted from her and went to the cupboard to get two bowls while she began to clear the table. "Do you think we can handle that kind of commitment?"

She pretended to think about it for a moment while chewing on the inside of her cheek, "Hmmm, I don't know. We've been through a lot together but this is something else…"

"Guess there's only one way to find out," Chris said as he came back to the table holding the two bowls and all three cereal boxes, nearly dropping them all in the process. Ashley chuckled and took the bowls from him so he could set the cereal boxes down on the table.

"Hey, Chris." Ashley spoke softly and Chris turned to look at her with nothing but love and adoration for the girl within his blue eyes.

"Yeah, bean?" She tried not to chuckle at his little nickname for her. He had accidentally called her that on their second date when a memory of her dropping a bunch of coffee beans on the floor popped into his head and he had stuck with it ever since.

"I love you." She murmured as she wrapped her arms around him, taking in the warmth of his body as she held him close.

"I love you, too." He whispered back before wrapping his arms around her to complete the embrace while kissing the top of her head.

He had always known that he had loved Ashley but, at this moment, he knew that she was definitely the love of his life and nothing would ever change that.

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#until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #KassieUntilDawnFanFics

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