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gemsofgreece · 2 months

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Can you tell me about a vrykolakas?

The vrykólakas is the Greek equivalent of the vampire. While nowadays it is a perfect synonym (we call "vrykólakas" anything from Dracula to Lestat to that glimmering dude from Twilight) historically this was not exactly the case.

Ancient Greeks believed in undead creatures who could return and feed on human flesh. Ancient burials have been discovered where the dead had their members nailed or bound or the tomb had extra walls and obstacles to prevent the corpse from rising. Such a case has been found in the ancient mausoleum of Síkinos island, the burial place of a noble woman dating to 200 AD, who although was clearly buried with love, it was also obvious her relatives thought she could return in the form of such a creature. I had actually talked about her in an old post but I can't seem to find it no matter what key words I try - sometimes tumblr gets a stroke when you add too many tags and it can't locate the post. Here's the prototype link from the article in Greek based on which I made the post. Her case is described in bullet #8 .

From the 16th to 18th century when such information is more easily accessible we can tell that the ancient undead creature eating human flesh was pretty much syncretized with the nearby strong Slavic beliefs for the vampir. The Greek name vrykólakas, sometimes in idiomatic Greek also vorvólakas comes etymlogically from the Bulgarian varkolak or the Slavic vukodlak or vurdulak or any of these several variations. A version that seems to have taken a very similar etymological path as the Greek one is the Lithuanian vilkolakis. (Those words however do not describe 100% the type of creature vrykólakas is.) There have been numerous examples of such mythological syncretisms in (South)eastern Europe. Another example is an also ghoulish creature, a vampiric witch, the strega of the Italians, shtriga of the Albanians, striga of the Romanians and strzyga of the Polish which comes from the Ancient Greek strix or striggla, who even though she was an owl-like creature of the night, she was originally (prior to 300 BC) not considered a demonic man-eating creature. This was more likely the later influence of the Romans and their dark perception of the striggla was adopted anew by the Greeks of late antiquity (and the ancestors of all other aforementioned nations).

Back to Vrykólakas, it was not imagined in the way western vampires have been imagined since the late 18th century. It is not tall, thin, lustful and incredibly sexy. In fact, it usually had the appearance of a swollen, bloated corpse (like corpses are medically known to do in the process of decomposition, apparently people were trying to explain this) and sometimes it was described having red, glowing eyes. It was not sophisticated or self-restrained at the times it was well fed. It is usually described as having a rabid-like behaviour and is mostly incapable of normal human communication. However, there have been significant deviations from this, an example being the folk song of the Dead Brother, where the brother who is an undead is described as pale, skinny, hairless, dead or severely ill looking but is capable of normal communication. (More on this in a link I attach later.)

The vrykolakes were believed to be created if the dead was excommunicated in life, had a foul, very corrupt lifestyle or was cursed by somebody else (even unfairly). Sometimes the rising and arrival of a vrykolakas was heralded by owl hoots and screeches, a continuation of the ancient myth of the strix, unlike the Slavic connection of vampires to bats.

A Vrykolakas is not technically drinking blood. I believe this is a more Slavic or Western European version. Like its ancient counterpart, the vrykolakas feeds on flesh, intestines and particularly liver. The vrykolakes would often attack livestock when they couldn't find humans. They would knock on a door and call the owner’s name and if nobody answered it, they could not get in (famous traditional vampire trope). If a person was attacked by a vrykolakas, they would either get killed on the spot or in a few days and then become undead too. The vrykolakes were also believed to spread famine and illnesses by attacking the livestock and contaminating the waters. The longer a vrykolakas “survived”, the more powerful and destructive it became. While unusual, they could appear in daylight.

The way a vrykolakas was confronted and defeated has many similarities with the ancient undead and the traditional vampires of Eastern Europe. The corpses who were believed to be vrykolakes were dismembered, immobilized with thick silver nails, they would have wine poured on them by a priest, have crosses placed on them, they would be cremated, they would be impaled with a stake in their heart or mouth, they would be buried uspide down, sometimes they would be beheaded or cut into many small pieces.

Here is a FANTASTIC post by @wordsmithic compiling several folk legends and documented incidences in which Greeks believed a corpse to be a vrykolakas. Since you are interested in this topic, do not skip it by any means.

As you will notice in it, there has been a considerable number of western Europeans writing about the Greek vrykolakes of the 17th and 18th century. As I was searching for additional potentially important info in Wikipedia, I found that at the time the Greek vrykolakes were more researched and known than the Slavic vampires, however the latter soon kicked our ass especially due to Stoker’s inspiration from the Wallachian Vlad Tepes (Dracula). But the first novel of romanticised vampiric fiction is the Vampyre (1817) by John Williams Polidori and the novel largely takes place in Greece. Maybe this has to do with the fact that even though Polidori was half British - half Italian, he was perhaps aware of distant Greek paternal ancestry (his surname Polidori is etymologically Greek but his grandfather is also described as a native of Tuscany so the potential Greek ancestry goes way back in time, early or mid- 17th century at the latest, so I can’t tell if he knew or felt any connection) or maybe because the raging Philhellene Lord Byron assigned him to write this (NEWSFLASH: several intellectuals and artists of the 17-19th centuries appreciated MODERN Greece even while it was conquered and desolate, not like now that we are treated worse than rubbish even when we fair a lot better). My point is, for this to happen, during those centuries the beliefs surrounding the Vrykólakes must have been particularly notable and present in the Greek society. The fabulous link I added above says more about this novel as well, among many other things. Enjoy!

#greece #supernatural #vampire #Balkans #Eastern Europe #Greek culture #Ancient Greek culture #supernatural beings #Greek facts #link

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hms-tardimpala · 2 months

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Ficbinding: The Bone Eater by CluckU

(Listen, taking pics is not my talent. Just ignore the Wrestlemania tier list in the background.)

The fic: SPN, Castiel/Dean Winchester, E, 119.3k This fic is amazing. It's dark as I like and breathtaking, and it's a fantastic exploration of my favorite character, Dean Winchester. He's completely believable as CluckU writes him, there's not a doubt in my mind that that's how he would react if kidnapped and fed on by a minotaur, even at the times in the story when I wished he'd go against his instincts to protect himself. Also, the monster in this fic is so cool. He's well written, menacing, pathetic in a way, and so terrifying because of the way he feeds and how implacable he is. Special mention to the whole Misery vibe of this fic and especially chapter 15, that was so well done. Read the tags.

The bind: This is one of my most complex works to date, for several reasons. Let's start with the palette. White for te very bare cell Dean lives in and to contrast with other colors; red on the endbands and ribbon for blood (and there's a lot of it here); silver on the edges and endpapers for the medical instruments and table; black because I don't have grey cloth and I thought it'd contrast better with white to make the prison bars pattern.

The first difficulty was trimming and sanding the textblock. It was too thick for my ream cutter and as I said before, I'm losing my faith in it. So I trimmed each one of the 18 signatures by hand, then sanded the block with my new power sander. It took a long time and made a lot of noise, and the heat made it hard to work for long, but I'm loving this new tool. The smoothness of the edges was so satisfying.

Then I spray-painted edges for the first time. And it didn't go so well. It seemed okay, but for some reason paint still rubs off my fingers even though it's dry, so I have to be very careful when handling the book. I'm thinking of giving up acrylic paint in favor of laque spray next time.

Another thing I was apprehensive about was the straight spine. I'm a round spine guy, I have very little experience with straight ones, but it went alright! It's good! I don't think I'll make it a regular occurrence, though, I find it nerve-racking.

The last tricky thing was the cover pattern. (You can see it well in the sun if you click on the picture above.) It wasn't hard to think up or to figure out, mathematically speaking, but it was long, hard work in the July heat to cut the strips and glue them on the cover in a regular fashion. Took me hours. But it came out looking great! I did make a little mistake, though: I prepared the casing last night and I was so tired I glued the book in it by automatism, but I should have added the stripes before putting the book together.

Now, the typesetting!

I could have used a Greek theme throughout, but the minotaur myth is too modernized in this story for that, so I confined these references to the front page. A non-serif font because this is mostly Dean's POV and if you've read my previous ficbinding post, you know my feelings on that. And then bones! For the chapter headings, I used a pelvic bone that cradles the chapter number. The only chapter with a different heading is chapter 15, with the hand, for reasons obvious to those who have read the fic. And a nice femur as a divider. Really, the pelvis, hand and femur are the most important bones in The Bone Eater. The all look crisp, I'm happy with that.

Any reservations?

I wrestled with my printer a while and couldn't get it to print the right shade of red, I'll have to look into that next time.

Wow, I had a lot to say this time! It was a very interesting one, craft-wise.

Fonts: title and chapter numbers: Lethal Craze Demo, author name: Hey August, text: TT Fors Trial. All free on Dafont.

Materials: Black and white cloth from Schmedt, 2mm grey board, 70g/m² white copy paper, synthetic bookmark and headbands. Silver endpaper bought in store.

Feel free to ask me more about materials and fonts (or whatever), it won’t bother me at all to tell you what I used, I just can't think of anything else right now.

#bookbinding #ficbinding #my bookbinding #spn #spn fic rec #fanbinding

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lavender-laney · 2 months

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wip intro, wax and feathers

wax and feathers

genre . mythological retelling, fantasy

status . drafting

tag . #wax and feathers, #lysandra

how to define devotion and love? how to know when loyalty grows and twists into a bonding of souls, like an invasive weed settling its horrid roots and crowding out everything else that might possibly matter -- but oh, it has such beautiful flowers, does it not?

If you're a fan of reinterpretations of Greek myths, sapphic romance, and doomed narratives, you might enjoy Wax and Feathers...

summary .

Ovid's Metamorphoses detailed the devotion of Persephone's handmaidens, and their transformation into winged sirens to pursue the goddess. This retells Persephone's myth from the perspective of Lysandra, a nymph-turned-siren who would travel to the ends of the Earth for her maiden.

excerpt .

The narcissus flower is one Lysandra has never been fond of, and she's unsure if this distaste began before or after her mother had clutched her young shoulders like a harpy gripping a shuddering salmon. Nonetheless, she can understand why Persephone had kneeled in the soft, dew-speckled grass to admire the flower. The way the warm morning light reflected its amber glow? The petals reaching towards the sun, appearing as though they had only just unfurled, fated for Persephone's admiring gaze? If Lysandra thought him capable of such artistry, she might believe Hades crafted this flower with his own hands, petal by petal, to entice the maiden. Regardless, Lysandra feels nothing but contempt for narcissus – the flower, and the senseless man. (Unwillingly, she feels the very same contempt for herself – for allowing her mother to so strongly sway her feelings for a measly flower, and for believing herself different than a man who simply felt love too strongly.)

please let me know if anyone would like to be added to the tag list for posts about this wip! <3

#wax and feathers #wip intro #creative writing #writing #writeblr #writeblr intro #original writing #my writing #excerpt #writeblr community #writers on tumblr #myth #persephone

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xmads-omensx · 3 days

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CHAPTER 1 - I SIT HERE AND SMILE DEAR

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 4,091

Content warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, violence f you squint (pushing and shoving in a malicious way), mentions of alcohol, Ronnie Radke, blood, descriptions of a small wound

Tag List: @concreteangel92 @lma1986 @dragonfly92 @thisis--mj @bloody-delusion-expert @girlagainstg0d

(Please message or comment if you would like to be added to the taglist, or if I forgot to add you <3)

WARPED TOUR 2011 BECCA

My knee bounced up and down as I sat on the leather sofa in the tour bus. We had never had a proper tour bus before. The closest thing we had was Theo’s Dad’s old van that kept breaking down. Nerves shot through my body as I tried to slow my heart-rate and regain my normal breathing.

Warped Tour was by far the biggest tour we had ever done. Sure, we were still supporting other bands, but we weren’t performing in a small, run-down dive bar. This was real. Bring Me The Horizon. Pierce The Veil. Sleeping With Sirens. All Time Low. Motionless In White. Our favourite bands were playing alongside us. We were one of them.

“Quit bouncing your leg Becca, I feel like I’m experiencing a fucking earthquake right now, jeez.” Johnny, our bass player, complained.

The rest of the guys erupted in laughter.

“Calm your tits, Johnny! Leave me alone.” I laughed in reply.

I had never been this nervous for a set before. We only had one album out, Arachnophobia, that had been doing reasonably well, but I was still so nervous. What if we get booed off stage? What if we fuck up the timings? What if I trip and fall flat on my fucking face? Worst-case scenarios flashed through my mind at lightning speed, corrupting whatever positive and confident thought that I still possessed.

“I need some air.” I said to the guys in a small voice.

“You good?” Kevin, our lead guitar player called out to me from his seat at the opposite end of the sofa.

“No. I just need a minute of fresh air.” I tried to reassure him, ultimately failing miserably.

“You sure?” Luke, our rhythm guitar player asked from his bunk.

“Yep. I won’t be long.” I mumbled, just loud enough for them to hear.

I walked around the festival site for a little while. The tents where bands were stood meeting fans and selling merch were absolutely packed. We had been selling merch and meting some fans as well, but nowhere near the scale of any of the bands situated near our tent.

This was our first ever festival. As I said, we were a small band. No one really knew who we were. That could also be said about some of the other bands on this tour as well to be fair. Warped Tour seemed like a brilliant opportunity for new fans to start listening to us when our manager, Nick, pitched it to us. But now it seemed like literal hell on earth. God, what if people left our set?

I tried to push those thoughts down, but nothing worked. As soon as I forced out one doubt, another just popped up in its place. It felt like my mind was the hydra from ancient Greek myth. Equally as venomous and persistent. It was going to be difficult to keep those negative feelings at bay for the rest of the tour. I had always struggled with not feeling good enough, and this tour was just amplifying those ideas. If nobody came to our set, everything would have been for nothing.

My phone started ringing in my pocket after about twenty minutes of my walk. It was Nick. I stared at the screen for a second. Breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.

“Hey.” I said straight after answering the call.

“Hey yourself! Your set is in five minutes Bex. Get your ass to the stage right fucking now before I either lose my shit or lose my job. Whichever comes first.” Nick yelled down the line over the band who were finishing up their set before ours was due to start. I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yep I’ll be there in a sec. I lost track of time, sorry.” I replied hurriedly.

“Great. Thanks. See you in a sec then.” Nick finished.

I started running back towards the stage when I bumped into something. It felt like a lamppost or something tall and thin like that. Except there weren’t any lampposts here. I looked up to see a tall, heavily tattooed man with long, black hair looking down at me with a slightly pained smile on his beautiful face.

I didn’t have time for this. I called out a quick sorry as I kept running towards the stage.

By the time I got there, I was doubled over and panting trying to catch my breath. “She’s here!” Luke shouted as I rounded the corner to the side-stage area. I was handed a microphone by Nick

“Good luck you guys. You’ve got this.” Nick encouraged with his arms round mine and Johnny’s shoulders. I took a breath in through my nose and out through my mouth as the rest of the guys walked onto the stage to begin the intro to the first song on our album, Make me Wanna Die, “Give ‘em hell kid.” Nick whispered in my ear with a pat on my back. I closed my eyes for a second then stepped out onto the stage.

The world around me seemed to slow down as I lifted my mic up to my mouth to start the song. My lyrics flew out of my mouth with a natural ease. This wasn’t as hard as I thought. A large crowd had formed at the stage. Not too bad for our first show of the tour. Some people in the crowd were singing along to the song, which filled me with pure joy and unrivalled confidence. I started to move and jump across the stage which excited the crowd even more. By the time we were halfway through our set, the crowd had grown significantly and even began singing even louder to the words that they knew.

I had never experienced such a buzz from the crowd. It felt electric. Looking at the rest of the band, it looked like they felt the same. Wide, beaming smiles were plastered on their faces. I was sure I wore a similar one on my own face. In fact, my face hurt because of the smile that covered my face.

Up until this point, the largest show that we had ever played was to only about eighty people. But now, we were performing to a crowd of about two hundred and fifty. It wasn’t a massive crowd by any means, but it was huge to us. All of our favourite bands started out like this, playing for much smaller crowds. It gave me hope that one day we could be as big as those bands. Someday.

“How is everyone doing?” I shouted into my microphone.

The crowd cheered in response. Holy shit.

“You guys having fun?” I asked.

The crowd cheered in response again. This felt so surreal.

“That’s good. We are too. You guys have been a great crowd.” I began. “This is our first Warped Tour, so thanks for making our first show sop fun because we are having an absolute blast up here.”

The crowd cheered and applauded.

“As you have probably gathered, I’m not exactly brilliant at this whole crowd work thing, but I’m not really used to crowds as fantastic as you guys.” I said with a huge grin on my face.

The crowed roared with cheers and applause.

“So anyway, this song is our last song of the set, and if you don’t mind we would like to play r for you.” I began. “I mean, it’s not like you really have much of a choice, we pre-decided the setlist before we came on stage.”

Laughter erupted around me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall, skinny guy with long dark hair cascading over his shoulders with tattoos on his arms, at least I thought they were tattoos. I couldn’t tell if it was black paint or tattoos. Either way, they looked good. He was standing backstage with four other guys who were all fitted in similar outfits. They must be the band following us. The man who caught my eye was the tallest of the group. He looked familiar but I couldn’t place it.

“This song was written by one of my favourite bands and are one of the bands who inspired me to pursue music. We hope you have had a great time here watching our set. We have been The Magpies and this is ‘Call Me’ by Blondie.

The intro started and an immense sense of joy coursed through my veins. Since I was a kid, Debbie Harry had been one of my heroes and I was so proud that we got to play one of her songs to a crowd of people.

And that was the moment that I knew we were going to make it.

“Holy fucking shit guys, you crushed that.” Nick yelled out at us with an impossibly huge grin plastered on his face. He clapped us each one-by-one as we came off of the stage. “The crowd fucking loved you guys.”

“That was kickass.” Luke exclaimed with a look that I can only describe as pure joy.

“Dude what the fuck just happened.” Johnny exclaimed.

“Fuck that was sick!” Kevin yelled directly into my ear as he swung his arm over my shoulder.

“Damn I’m pumped!” Theo laughed.

“How the fuck did we pull that off?” I laughed along with the rest of the guys.

“Because we are hot shit Bex. Hot fucking shit.” Kevin shouted back at us as he followed Nick away from the stage and towards the bus.

I paused for a moment and watched the guys, my family, walk ahead of me. I never thought anything like this could happen to us. Let alone at such a young age. I was only 18 when we did our first Warped Tour.

“Come on slow coach we want to go hang before the barbeque.” Nick called back at me. I laughed and followed after them

Every year, there was a barbeque on the first day of tour. It was mainly so that everyone in all the bands and crew could meet eachother. Kind of like an icebreaker night I guess. This was going to be the most nervous I had been so far, including the show. Because now, I had no choice but to meet all of those bands who were practically the reason that I made music. Plus, I was pretty confident in saying that meeting Oli Sykes in person might literally kill me.

The fact that we would be meeting our heroes in such a short space of time was seriously starting to make me freak out. How were we worthy of all of this?

We made it to the bus and all sat down to play some Xbox together before the barbeque. Luke had flung himself onto the black, leather L-shaped sofa opposite the door.

“I don’t give a fuck what the rest of you want, I’m playing Call Of Duty.” He said whilst signing into the game and running a hand through his short blonde hair.

“What the fuck man! We play that all the fucking time.” Johnny complained.

“Let me be play too and you can do whatever you want.” Kevin laughed whilst grabbing the second controller and joining Luke in the game.

“Fuck you guys I’m going to have a nap before we have to go.” Theo sighed with a yawn, tying his shoulder length, curly brown hair into a low bun as he walked towards his bunk.

I sat next to Luke and laughed at their childish bickering as they played their game. Johnny sat shouting commands at the two other boys.

“If you want to sit there and yell at us then you should have joined the fucking game asshole.” Kevin laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as they had begun to slip down.

“Fuck you, there’s only two controllers dipshit.” Johnny argued back.

I started to block out their arguing as I picked up the book that I had been reading and snuggled further into the corner of the sofa. I had found comfort in books during the very short time that we had been touring. Sure, performing on stage was an escape from real life, for both us and the crowd, but that was still work at the end of the day. Reading, however, had the power to transport you to a different world entirely, a different dimension even if that’s what you wanted to find. It allowed my mind to escape the cage that it was trapped in and explore the endless possibilities that life held. It allowed me to hide from my problems. To escape reality. To run and never stop running, not until I was happy, not until I was free. And that freedom was the greatest feeling in the world.

Before I knew it, my eyes had started to droop and I drifted off into a peaceful sleep. The best that I would probably have on this tour. My dreams were surprisingly pleasant as I fell deeper into my slumber before a pair of hands grasped my shoulders and began to shake me awake.

“Rebecca…. Beccaa…. Bex…. Beckyyy…..” A deep sing-song voice chanted as he shook my shoulders. My eyes fluttered awake, and leaning over me stood Theo. “There she is.” He said once my eyes had fully opened.

“What?” I mumbled as I rubbed my eyes.

“We have to go in like forty minutes, and we thought you might want to get ready.” He went on.

I stood up and stretched my arms over my head before letting out a yawn and making my way to the bathroom so that I could re-do my makeup and brush the birds nest that had formed in my hair.

I decided not to do anything crazy and to just touch up the makeup that I already had on, which was a more natural look with dark brown eyeshadow lining my upper lash line just a little bit. I tied up the top half of my long, brunette hair into a bun at the back of my head, letting some face-framing pieces hang loosely around my face. I changed into a white tank top with spaghetti straps and some black wide-leg ripped jeans with fishnets underneath. I grabbed an old, red Flash hoodie, that previously belonged to my ex but I liked the hoodie too much to return it, and tied it around my waist just in case it got chillier later in the night.

“Okay I’m ready.” I announced to the guys who were all sat on the sofa arguing over what movie to watch later. Unsurprising as they usually had this argument, then would watch a movie that wasn’t even part of the equation to begin with.

“Great, let’s go.” Nick said as he stood up, rubbing his hands together.

We all nodded in agreement and followed him out of the bus and towards the barbeque. There was an opening in the middle of where the buses were parked in which a large fire pit, surrounded by mismatched deckchairs, had been set up. The barbeque itself was positioned next to a staff bus, that the Warped Tour management team were staying in. They were the ones who essentially ran the tour and wanted to ensure that it went as smoothly as possible.

Straight away, a British accent caught my attention as five guys started approaching us. “Hey! You guys must be the Magpies.” One of the men asked us with a huge grin on his face.

Holy fucking shit. Danny Worsnop from Asking Alexandria was talking to us. THE Danny Worsnop from THE Asking Alexandria was talking to us. Us? We were nobodies here. He fucking knew who we were. Holy fucking shit I must still be dreaming.

“Yep that’s us.” Johnny said with a smile on his face, sticking out his arm to shake Danny’s hand. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to introduce yourselves, we are big fans, Becca especially. But I’m Johnny and I’m the bass player, this dumbass is Theo our drummer, Luke and Kevin here are our guitar players, and this shy bitch is Becca, our singer.” Johnny introduced. We each raised our hands in a wave when Johnny said our names.

“It’s so nice to meet you all. It’s about time a new band joined the lineup.” Ben laughed.

“Well, the Black Veil Brides guys are new here.” Cam said.

“Yeah, obviously, but I mean a band we haven’t met before.” Ben laughed at his bandmate and rolled his eyes at Cam playfully.

“We toured with them last year for a while. They’re great guys.” James said to the rest of us.

“Hey, you should totally meet them later if you’re up for it.” Ben enthusiastically suggested.

“Yeah, totally.” Theo said with a smile. “But let’s eat first, I’m fucking starving.”

“Agreed.” Danny laughed. We all started walking towards the barbeque and Ben fell into step with me. We fell into easy conversation. I could tell immediately that we were going to be good friends.

“So how did your first show go?” Ben asked.

“It went fucking amazingly. We’ve never played to a crowd that big before, and they actually seemed to enjoy our set which was fucking brilliant.” I gushed.

“Yeah, I caught some songs towards the end of your set. You guys fucking crushed it. Andy said he saw the last few songs and thought you guys were pretty cool.” He said.

“Andy?” I asked.

“Yeah. Oh shit you haven’t met him yet. He’s the singer in Black Veil Brides. He’s super cool, I think you’d like him.” Ben explained.

“Cool. It’s weird having this many people on a tour together.” I continued. “It’s only ever really been us supporting another band. Never any more than that.”

“I remember when we started out like that. We thought we’d never make it, but look where we are now.” He laughed. “Once you get used to it, it gets less weird.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I replied.

Before I even realised it, we had reached the barbeque. People from various different bands and their crew mingled about as they all socialised with eachother. It seemed as though most of the people here already knew eachother from previous tours.

Ben introduced me to his friends on the tour, which was already a shock to be hanging out with Ben fucking Bruce. I tried to push my nerves down as he introduced me to the likes of Vic Fuentes, Kelin Quinn, Oli Sykes, Chris Motionless and Ricky Horror. I surprised myself with how ‘normal’ I managed to act around them. After all, it’s not every day that you meet your favourite musicians. I tried to remind myself that I would be touring with these people, so it wouldn’t be the best idea to fangirl and embarrass myself the first time I met them.

Ben and I grabbed a burger each and sat down on some of the spare deck chairs to eat them.

“Have you just put gherkins in your fucking burger?” I asked Ben in utter disbelief.

“Yep.” He grinned, popping the p. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Of course I do that’s disgusting! I don’t think we can be friends after this.” I gasped at him in mock offense.

“Wow. You’re one of those?” Ben chuckled.

“One of what?” I laughed at him.

“Someone who doesn’t have taste.” He laughed.

I threw my dirty napkin at him in response.

“EW!” He screamed dramatically, throwing his own napkin right back at me.

I laughed hysterically at him.

“Okay. I’m glad you two are having fun, but I was sitting there, so if you could just move that would be great.” A deep voice tore through the bliss that I was experiencing with Ben.

“Oh fuck off Ronnie, we both know you weren’t sat here.” Ben rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, Bruce? You’re gonna start shit on the first day of tour?” The man, who I assumed was called Ronnie sighed back.

“Just fuck off Ronnie, the no one has to start shit.” Ben said through gritted teeth.

“Seriously man, why do you have to make everything so damn hard all the time!” Ronnie shouted at Ben.

“I’m not the problem here man.” Ben raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Take your pretty friend here, and go suck each other’s faces somewhere else jackass!” Ronnie yelled.

“Woah, woah.” Ben started, raising his voice at Ronnie, “We both know that’s not what was happening here okay. Let’s just move on.”

“Move.” Ronnie said through gritted teeth.

“No.” Ben said with a laugh, as he leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, relaxing further.

Before I could even register what was happening, Ronnie lunged forward and shoved Ben out of the chair backwards. I jumped up and pushed Ronnie backwards so that he couldn’t lunge towards Ben anymore. Instead, he only stumbled back a few steps before he shoved me backwards too, nocking my beer out of my hand, making it spill all over me. I put my hands below me to try and stop the fall, when I felt a sharp pain in my hand. I lifted my hand up to get a look at it, only to be greeted with a shard of glass poking out the palm of my hand and blood dripping from the wound.

I winced as I slowly tried to pull the broken glass out of my hand, completely oblivious to the fact that Johnny and Luke had ran over and dragged Ronnie away before punching him in the face, knocking him to the floor. The shard of glass wasn’t anything massive, but once it was out of my hand, more blood pooled in the palm of my hand.

From behind me, I felt a pair of arms snake underneath my armpits and begin to pull me up to my feet. Once I was standing again, I turned to see who had lifted me up. I was greeted by a chest clad in a black t-shirt with the Batman logo on. The shirt hung slightly loosely on the skinny frame of the person, who I assumed was a man, who now stood in front of me. I had to crane my neck to see his face, which was obscured by long black locks of hair. I could make out an array of tattoos on his arms that I hadn’t noticed before.

Holy shit. This was the guy that I had literally ran into before my set earlier.

“You okay? That looks deep.” He said, concern plastered all over his face as he took my hand in his much bigger one.

“Y-y-yeah.” I stuttered out, still in shock from what had just happened.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He led me gently away from where Johnny and Luke were being held back by Asking Alexandria and Ronnie was being dragged away by Jacky Vincent and Ryan Seaman.

The man led me to a tour bus where we met another man, who also had long black hair.

“Hey man, what the fuck?” The new man said with an incredulous look on his face as we got closer to the bus.

“Ronnie is back on his dumbass shit.” The first man, who was still holding my elbow, said in reply.

“Of course he is.” The second man scoffed while going into the tour bus, holding open the door for myself and the first man.

Their tour bus looked pretty much the same as ours did, except there was lots of makeup all over the place and various items that looked like they were made of leather. It was messier than ours too which I liked. It made me feel better about how I left things when I was getting ready.

“This is Jake.” The first man gestured to the second man. “I’m not too sure where the others are though? Probably still at the barbeque. It’s Becca right?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s me.” I said quietly with a weak laugh.

He stared at me for a beat as I looked at him expectantly. It felt like he was looking right into my soul with those blue eyes of his.

“Who are you?” I asked timidly.

“Me?” He pointed at his chest.

I nodded my head. I could tell he wasn’t very good at talking.

“I’m Andy.” He said with a beautiful smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”

#andy biersack #fanfic #black veil brides #andy black #andy sixx #we don’t belong #BVB #Andy biersack fanfic #black veil brides fic

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zipstick-writes · 3 months

Text

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The X-Files Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Original Characters Additional Tags: Animal Transformation, Case Fic, Season/Series 05, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, probably (i havent figured out the whole plot yet. so), putting the fox in fox mulder, (im turning him into a fox. for silly reasons), Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary: “Five people gone and not a single witness testimony, nor a shred of evidence, that suggests where they might be, who or what might have taken them, or if they were even taken at all. Any theories, Scully?” - Five people in a small rural town in Colorado have gone missing under mysterious circumstances within a week of each other. The local PD suspects a serial kidnapper, but Mulder believes that something more supernatural is at play. Mulder and Scully fly out to investigate, but it's not long before one of them befalls the same fate.

damn im posting a fanfic for the first time in ummmmmm like 4 years? hahaha anyway hi x files fandom

tagging @today-in-fic

“Animal transformations.”

This is the phrase that greets Dr Dana Scully the second she walks through the door of the glorified storage closet in the basement of the Hoover Building that is the X-Files division of the FBI, on what would otherwise be an unassuming mid-June Monday morning.

“Run that by me again?”

“Animal transformations, Scully.” Says Mulder from beside the projector, and Scully knows from the excited look on his face and the dimmed lights in the room that she is in for one of his world-famous slideshow presentations. “Stories of humans turning into animals exist throughout history and transcend cultural borders. Dozens of stories in Greek myth of gods turning humans into animals, the Norse god Loki becoming wolves, horses, birds, the selkies of Celtic mythology which shed their seal-skins and become human. There’s also the Japanese Kitsune, powerful shapeshifting spirits which take the form of foxes! Not to mention the classic vampires turning into bats and men that become wolves in the light of the full moon.”

“Of course. Werewolves. How could I forget.”

“Precisely, Scully. Werewolves.” Mulder has a self-satisfied grin on his face, and he continues: “The phenomenon also appears in literature. I take it you’re familiar with the works of Shakespeare?”

“In A Midsummer Night’s Dream, when Bottom is turned into a donkey?”

“Right. And in Kafka’s Metamorphosis,” Mulder continues, flipping to a slide of an illustration depicting a giant insect lying on its back in a tiny bedroom, “when Gregor Samsa becomes a beetle because of the overwhelming stress from the demands of his employer and his family. Humanity is obsessed with shapeshifting, has been for millenia.”

“While it is endlessly enlightening to learn about the common threads that unite our species’ storytellers throughout time, Mulder,” Scully says in a flat voice with an exaggerated sigh, “what exactly is the point of all this?”

“The point, Scully,” He replies immediately, drawing out his pause for several moments for dramatic effect, “Is that tales of human-to-animal transformations exist all across the world, and have existed for just about as long as humans have. And these stories have to have started somewhere.”

Oh boy, here we go, Scully thinks. Couldn’t he have waited until I’d had some coffee? It’s barely 8 o’clock in the morning.

“Oh, Mulder, please, don’t tell me you’re suggesting-”

“Lightalley, Colorado is a small mountain town about two hours west of Denver by car. It’s known for picturesque views of the landscape, popular hiking trails, and, most recently,” he says, and flips one slide further to a missing persons poster, then another, and then three more, “several disappearances under mysterious circumstances.

“Freya Pennington, 33, was last seen eight days ago, on the 14th, in the backyard of her own home. Her fiancé, George, says she was there one moment and gone the next, and he reports hearing no sound to indicate that she was in distress even though he was in the kitchen facing the yard when she disappeared. Harley Williams, 27, is a recently qualified medical doctor. He lives alone, and his disappearance was only reported to the Lightalley Police Department when he didn’t show up to work at the local hospital on Tuesday. Edward Irwin, 49, and his daughter Ellie, 17, are tourists from New York who were last seen on Thursday leaving their hotel and heading in the direction of a hiking trail. Sydney McIntosh, 21, works at a bar and was last seen by her boss, Daniel Meyers, leaving her work at 1 o’clock on Friday morning at the end of her shift. Crime scene technicians have examined the locations of their last known sightings thoroughly and turned up nothing. No blood, no weapons, no DNA samples, not even the victims’ possessions. None of the victims have connections to one another, and none of the disappearances happened within two miles of each other.

“Five people gone and not a single witness testimony, nor a shred of evidence, that suggests where they might be, who or what might have taken them, or if they were even taken at all. Any theories, Scully?”

“Well, it could be that they left of their own volition, however this many people disappearing in this short a timespan makes that rather unlikely. Perhaps there is a serial kidnapper at work here, but given that the first victim’s partner was at the scene and didn’t see or hear anything, that could be discounted as well, or in the case of a kidnapper the first disappearance may be unrelated to the rest. I really couldn’t tell one way or the other without speaking to the local PD. But I’m guessing you had your own theory ready before I even walked in the door, didn’t you?”

“You know me, Scully, always prepared.” He replies, smiling. “While it is true that Lightalley PD’s forensics team didn’t find anything that suggested a struggle, indicating that kidnappings were unlikely, that doesn’t mean they didn’t find anything. At each location, there have been footprints leading away.”

“Footprints belonging to who?”

“Not who, Scully, what. Animal tracks, in every case leading away from the crime scene, but not towards it. As if they simply came into being right then and there.”

“Animal tracks.”

“Absolutely, Scully. Victim #1, a rabbit. Victim #2, an elk. Victims #3 and #4, coyotes, two sets of tracks alongside each other. And victim #5, some sort of large bird, perhaps a raven, which end a few yards away from the bar, implying takeoff.”

“Mulder, please don’t tell me you believe these people were somehow transformed into animals.” She says, halfheartedly glaring at him. When he responds with a shrug of his shoulders and a mischievous grin, she just lets out a resigned sigh. “Alright, what time do we leave?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” is Mulder’s reply as he hands her a plane ticket. “We leave at seven tonight. See you there, Scully.”

Scully’s just glad the packing means she gets the rest of the day off.

#fox mulder #dana scully #the x files #x files #txf #the x files fanfiction #x files fanfiction #txf fanfiction #the x files fanfic #x files fanfic #my fics #my writing #my ramblings

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