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recoveringdreamer · 5 months

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TIMING: current LOCATION: the woods PARTIES: @nicsalazar & @recoveringdreamer SUMMARY: while out in the woods on a walk, nicole comes across something familiar. CONTENT: mentions of past drug manipulation, animal cruelty

Nacho ambled slightly ahead of her, nose pinned to the ground, tail wagging happily. Lucky him, blissfully unaware of the tension weighing on Nicole’s shoulders. Even if his guard dog qualities never lived up to his potential —unless the subject to protect was Leah— his company counted for something. Having an extra set of ears and a better nose would alert Nicole faster of potential danger ahead. In case— In case… She didn’t want to think about that night. But it seemed to be all her traitorous mind wanted her to recall. There was no feral jaguar this time. She should be safe, wandering around as the human she looked, with her impossibly friendly dog. Unremarkable, as she always wished to appear, like every other hiker she’d passed by.

Nicole was buried in the heart of the woods when she found herself in unexpected company. She would’ve called them bugs. She supposed, technically, they were. The size of the creatures was throwing her off. She’d rather not encroach on their territory. And Nacho already looked a little too curious for her liking. It was better for all involved if they never acknowledged each other’s presence. A branch cracked behind her, and she almost climbed up the tree. Fuck. She held her breath at that, moving stealthily for cover. Her nostrils flared, trying to pick up on any obvious scent. There was something— something that made her heart race at the familiarity, but she didn’t have time to process, because the shiny eyes she caught across from the trees sent her heart racing. Jesus. Was someone playing fucking games with her? Something told her she wasn’t the only one a little lost.

Immediately, Nicole hid behind a tree, looking over her shoulder. She breathed deeply, as quietly as possible. Something beckoned her to those eyes, something beneath her sternum, pounding coldly. Made no fucking sense. She could walk around the trees and investigate what was on the other side while somehow evading the dog-sized bugs in the middle. Sounded easy enough, right? Once she confirmed it was just an animal, she’d go down the clearing and back to the road. Great plan, she decided, carefully stepping around knobby roots and venturing further into the woods. A voice in her head that always sounded like Leah, begged her to turn the other way, find another path, do the sensible thing. She could be running straight into danger with nothing but a bottle of water and a few snacks in her backpack. And her hatchet, of course. But she liked using that as a warning rather than an actual weapon.

Her eyes focused on a shadow passing by in the distance, her heart jumping into her throat. And for a brief second, Nicole’s control slipped from her grasp. Amber eyes lit up and her vision sharpened in the darkness, making out what her brain recognized as a shoulder. Eyes turned to the ground, not to draw attention, until she was sure her vision had returned to normal. She lowered her head, afraid that she had scared the person or creature she was chasing. Her steps were cautious as she continued to approach, stalking quietly, waiting until she was absolutely sure she had the upper hand. Then she did something equally stupid and brave.

“I…uh, I can hear you”. Despite that statement, her tone was filled with uncertainty. Why was she speaking? It could be an animal. More often than not, this was the case. Didn't explain the shadow or the shoulder she thought she saw. The forest was known for its deceptive shapes. And the image of some faceless man out to hurt her hung over her head. “I’m not— I’m not dangerous”. She was paranoid, admittedly. “I was— just hiking” she spoke aimlessly, knowing it was unlikely to have the effect she wanted.

The woods still felt like home, sometimes. In a lot of ways, Felix hated that. It wasn’t that they didn’t like what they were — their mother had made sure that her children appreciated what it meant to be a balam, and shedding that appreciation after her death would have felt like a betrayal no matter how it came about. But… Felix didn’t always like what they’d done with it. Their mother wouldn’t have, either. She’d have been horrified, he thought, of how their father reacted to what happened. Those years spent in the woods, living more like animals than people, all the things that had come with it… Their mother wouldn’t have wanted that for any of them. Felix knew that.

But the woods still felt like home. On nights like tonight especially, when the world felt heavier than it usually did and everything seemed to be working against them. It had been another rough fight in the Pit, another night that ended with more blood under Felix’s nails than he knew what to do with. They didn’t know what state they’d left their opponent in; the jaguar had been the one in control in the moment, and no one had shared details after. But they knew it was bad. They knew it was bloody. They knew they wanted — no, needed — to clear their head.

So… they were here. In the woods that still felt like home no matter how they felt about it, kicking up dirt and keeping an ear out for trouble. They wandered, no destination in mind. Followed sounds they didn’t recognize and smells they did. And then — the ground pushed up around them, and something was there. Two somethings — three. Four, five, six — Felix started to lose count.

Later, he’d muse that it was probably the goo that caused it. Disrupting the ecosystem, messing with habitats and food sources. The goo caused so many problems for so many people, tore through the town and left little to be done. Later, Felix would have the right frame of mind to recognize that. But now? In this moment? All they could really focus on was the shot of fear brought on by the sudden upheaval of ground beneath their feet and the sudden feeling of being surrounded by giant, bug-like threats.

It was a quick shift. It usually was, when there was trouble. Felix froze, and the jaguar fought. Coming up from the shadows, slicing through the nearest insect. The bugs were smart enough to recognize a threat and flee from it; the jaguar was angry enough to follow.

As he chased the bugs, the jaguar became aware of another presence. Or two. One canine, though not the sort that turned human when the moon was low. And one… more familiar. One like him.

The jaguar, like most jaguars, was a solitary creature. He had no drive to find a pack the way a wolf might, but… he remembered. The cabin in the woods, the feeling of community with his siblings. He remembered this. It was curiosity that drove him to follow that familiar scent; the fact that the bugs he was pursuing were heading in the same direction only helped sway the matter. He followed, he sniffed the air. He came close.

She heard him. Of course she did. She was like him, and he heard everything. Except… She wasn’t like him right now, was she? She was more like Felix. Two legs steady beneath her, two arms at her side. The jaguar tilted his head to the side, stepping out from the shadows as she called out to him. Not dangerous? That was a lie. She was as dangerous as he was… though he wasn’t sure if she was dangerous to him. Now out in the light where he could be seen, the jaguar let out an experimental yowl. Low, more a warning than a threat. Almost a greeting.

There were a number of things Nicole would have expected to see after trying to draw out the unwelcome company: Wild animals scurrying away from the giant insects. Maybe more of the same insects crawling up from wherever they came from. A lost hiker, of course. Nicole's threshold for bullshit was extremely high, and it only got higher the more time she spent in Wicked's Rest. Even—yes, even—some other type of wildlife, the special kind, would have been possible. She could have expected monsters with extra legs, horns, wings, aquatic half dogs-half monkeys, snakes that fed on trauma, and so on. It wasn't as if Nicole didn't know that something crazy might turn up amid the trees.

A fucking jaguar would’ve never crossed Nicole’s mind. A jaguar. A fucking— In Wicked’s Rest. But now Nicole heard a yowl and saw a stocky figure sauntering toward her, and her heart pounded in her throat as she tried to make sense of the vision. The wheels in her brain slowly turned, working to apply some logic to the situation. Jaguars weren’t native to this place. Just like wolves. Everybody knew what those wolf sightings meant. Right. So, in a similar manner… The only way— The only thought she could entertain was far too absurd. Because— others like her didn’t exist. Not in Wicked’s Rest. She’d accepted her fate, to wander alone. For eight years. So how— How the fuck could a jaguar be walking in front of her now?

Could it be?

Nacho, too, looked curious, as if he could see beyond what was in front of him. Nicole ordered him to stay where he was, bile rising at the thought of the beast getting to him.

Perhaps she ought to have been concerned for her own security as well. Nicole retreated from the jaguar the closer it got. Her eyes, back to brown after that small mishap, met feral amber. What the fuck? She huffed in disbelief. She’d never been on this side, having to show respect to another jaguar. She wasn’t sure her jaguar liked it too much, as cold wrapped around her ribcage, clawing with rage. She chastised herself mentally, hoping some of that feeling would reach… wherever the fuck the spirit could listen. Communication was still a work in progress. But maybe now wasn’t the time to act prickly and carry some stupid superiority complex. She bent her head, showing she wanted no trouble with the beast in front of her, that she had no intention of hurting the animal, and without waiting for a reaction — she knew it could pounce at any moment— Nicole stepped away.

Unfortunately for her, trying to escape a wild jaguar now meant encroaching into bug territory. She preferred her odds there, however. Where her enemy wasn’t capable of killing with one blow. Even as more insects swarmed from wherever they were coming to surround her. Giant mandibles snapping. Fuck. She reached for her hatchet, just in case. Pondering her options. She could pick up her dog, and make a run through the colony, to the other side of the clearing. Her heart thundered in her ears, making rational thought slightly more difficult. Nacho chose the worst time to bark. Nicole could’ve sworn it was calling the jaguar. But he disturbed the colony in the process. Growing exponentially in numbers and cornering not only Nicole and Nacho, but the jaguar as well.

Within the jaguar, Felix stirred. Already uncomfortable at the loss of control, they felt a surge of panic at the presence of another person. They were always so afraid of someone being hurt, always so forgetful of the fact that they were above the silly humans they spent so much of their time worrying over. Even their other companions — the wolves, the fae, the lamia, the undead — were some version of inferior in the mind of the jaguar. He was a haughty creature; to him, nothing could compare to what he was.

But the woman in the clearing smelled as he did. Felt as he did. And it had been so long since he’d seen another. He had no intention of attacking her unless she attacked first, no intention of destroying the only other balam he’d encountered since Felix took them both from the homestead with their family. He didn’t need companionship, of course, but after decades of living with others like him, there was something undeniably lacking in being alone.

The woman didn’t seem quite as thrilled to see the jaguar, though. Perhaps she’d had a negative experience; perhaps the spirit within her was more territorial. Or maybe it was concern for the small creature at her side — the one that, admittedly, made the jaguar yearn to dirty his claws. He took another step forward, and the woman took a step back. The jaguar let out a frustrated puff of air.

But then… she was backing directly into the swarm. For a moment, the jaguar watched. He wondered if the spirit within her would take over to control the situation, just as he had done for Felix. But… perhaps her control was better. She remained human, and the dog barked, and the insects swarmed. Soon, they surrounded the jaguar as well, and the curiosity that had caused him to pause in his pursuit was once again chased away by anger. This time, his yowl was one of fury. He began swatting at the insects methodically. Not a random thing, but a targeted attack. This jaguar, after all, knew how to fight. Maybe a little too well.

Nicole wasn’t sure what she’d call it, the way the giant insects gave up any effort on attacking her, attention shifting to the large predator erupting in the scene. It was all too controlled to be explained away as animal instinct. Control. Right, that was the word. It was as if the monsters were puppeteered. Similar movement, similar target as they tried hurting the jaguar, who was angry and defending himself. That was the thing, wasn’t it? Despite her own perceptions of… danger. The jaguar hadn’t tried anything with her. And it very well could have. A beast as powerful and agile as it was, would’ve had no problem feasting on her and her dog. So logic dictated… she might not be the target.

Did that mean— Could it sense their similarities? The same way her eyes could spot spirits through the jaguar’s vision? This new animal had to know, must’ve seen what escaped the human eye. And there it was— another pulse in her chest, not anxiety, not dread, the spirit announcing its presence again. She took that as confirmation of her own thoughts. The two spirits had found each other.

Nicole wasn’t sure if it was relief that washed over her as a powerful wave, but it was something. Something that diverted her attention to the common enemy. Refocusing her efforts from escaping the jaguar, to getting rid of the creatures swarming them. Even if the jaguar ended up being dangerous, even if she found herself in trouble after this, she couldn’t— there was no scenario in which she would let the only other balam she’d seen in almost a decade be harmed. Fuck that. There was another balam, right in front of her. Another balam. What would she do when— She reached for the hatchet inside her backpack, kneeling in front of Nacho and instructing him to run to her car. “Go on, I’ll be there soon” she insisted, trying to appease the low, threatening grumble coming out of her pet. Nacho stared at her, and Nicole had never been more sure he could understand her, even if some might find that notion stupid. “Go!” her voice commanded and he did as told, sprinting past the crawling insects gathering around the jaguar.

With her main source of concern gone, Nicole could think with more clarity. Same clarity the spirit within seemed to be finding. She felt it come alive beneath her sternum, more determined, less patient with her idea of control. It wanted to act too. But Nicole couldn’t risk freeing the jaguar. Not after— She still didn’t know what had happened that night, only that something was stolen from the jaguar. She didn’t know how the maimed animal would act. How furious it would be, and whether that would result in a more feral beast. She clenched her jaw, pleading mentally, trying to negotiate with a disembodied entity that clawed inside her demanding action. Only if necessary, only if we’re in mortal danger... She tightened her grip on the hatchet, looking to harm any of the termites targeting the jaguar. She struck with precision, though the tough exterior demanded more than one hit. The bugs retaliated, one of them sliced her ankle with a snap of their mandible, but she had to swallow the scream of pain, fighting back with another strike of the hatchet. There were too many, Nicole realized. Even if the jaguar handled most of them, even if her jaguar joined him. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, making it difficult to decide how to proceed.

Should they leave them alone? They were the ones who accidentally stumbled onto the insects’ territory. But how exactly could Nicole communicate with the jaguar, tell it that it was useless, that they should escape? It felt like an affront. As if she was underestimating how strong the spirit was. She lifted her gaze, shoving another dead insect away. Her ankle throbbed, but she had no time to pay attention to it. Her mouth opened a few times, knowing it was stupid but still, attempting to speak. “We should—” her words died in her throat, a chill running up her spine when she spotted something else: Ahead of them, hidden partially in the darkness, Nicole noticed something much larger than the rest of the termites.

Individually, the insects were just that — insects. Easily defeated, even if they took a bit more effort than their smaller brethren who could be killed with the well-placed stomp of a human foot. Still, the lone bugs were of little concern to the jaguar, whose claws were sharp enough to get through their tough exoskeletons with only a few blows. If he had been fighting only one, or even only a dozen or so, it would have been a swift battle, over before the jaguar had time to enjoy himself. But as it stood? With the sheer number of insects attacking, and the coordination they displayed? It was a far more difficult task.

The woman’s presence fell to the background of the jaguar’s mind. Still there, still something to be aware of, but momentarily less important than the matter at hand. He was vaguely aware of the canine leaving them, felt a quiet thrill when the other balam joined the fight only to have it displaced by a bitter disappointment when she did so in human form. It had been so long since he’d seen another jaguar. Solitary as his nature made him, there was a part of him that missed the feeling.

But there was little time to dwell on it. Even the momentary distraction of his disappointment cost him, allowing one of the insects to sink those pesky mandibles into one of the jaguar’s front legs, right on the intersection between the chest and the leg. The beast yowled, pain and rage mixing together in the cry. He repaid the injury in kind, ripping the offending insect’s legs from its body before sinking claws deep into its midsection until the twitching ceased. The corpse was quickly tossed to the side. There was no time to revel in the victory; the insect was quickly replaced by three more, threatening to overwhelm him.

The woman spoke, and the jaguar turned some attention towards her briefly despite having little ability to understand what she said. Felix could process it, but it wasn’t of much use when the jaguar had full control like this. There was little communication between the two entities these days.

As the woman turned her head to look towards something lurking in the shadows, the jaguar couldn’t help but to follow her gaze. Sharp eyes designed to see perfectly in the dark made out the shape, traced the size of it. It looked something like the insects they were already fighting, but larger. Immediately, the jaguar was intrigued. He was a haughty beast; he’d much rather take on a large threat than a number of small ones. It felt more on his level, more deserving of his attention.

Swatting a few smaller insects to the side, the jaguar began prowling towards the shape in the shadows. It quickly became evident that the insects surrounding them didn’t want him to get near; they began to attack with more vigor now. Mandibles sunk into his shoulder, his hind leg. He yowled, responding in kind with his claws, but it was clear that he couldn’t make it to the lurking beast without assistance. The woman and the jaguar would need to function as a team if they wanted either of them to get into a position to face the larger insect.

If a horse-sized creature slowly creeping towards them didn’t fall under the category of ‘necessity’ and ‘last resort’, Nicole didn’t know what would. Her breath shook, her stomach sank with dread as she began accepting she had run out of options. Not that acceptance would translate into immediate action. It never quite worked like that for her, did it? There were too many mental hurdles to get through before she could allow the jaguar to take over. Fear. Her control had always stemmed from fear. It had been the main reason to keep the spirit locked inside, under a vice grip. She’d always been scared of the beast, of what it could do, of what it could take from her. Five years had been enough, she couldn’t lose any more. And she couldn’t fathom subjecting humans to a feral predator, not when she had no way of fighting its animal instinct and ensuring humans were safe from it.

It was fear she still felt now, as the other balam —the brave one—, did what any of them would’ve done: Attacked. He defended himself against the swarm of supernatural termites, sinking claws and teeth into everything that dared touch him. Proud and mighty. And Nicole understood, finally able to watch from an outside perspective, why these beasts, balam, might have been revered by humans in ancient times. She did her part to protect him, helped any way she could, with a busted ankle and slowed movements once exhaustion crept in. But even after freeing the jaguar of the monsters trying to maim him, several others would crawl to them, replacing the corpses in no time. What else did she need to see in order to let go?

There was something new behind her apprehension too. Something that started taking form the more she saw sharp mandibles slicing her companion. Her apprehension this time around might be protective in nature. She cared. Her throat tightened when she understood: She didn’t want her jaguar to be harmed again. Nicole couldn’t allow it. It had been her fault the first time. Wandering down the same paths every time, making it easier for hunters to track her. She should’ve known better than that. Had to be better than that. Despite their antagonistic relationship, she couldn’t throw the beast into danger like it was the solution to everything. Wash her hands and let it do the dirty job. What if she woke up and something else had been taken from her? From it?

The spirit didn’t see it from her point of view though, whether it was fear or a need to protect, the result was the same. It was still caged, stifled. And it grew restless, throbbing next to her heart, taking up space, pressing against her lungs with every time her hatchet struck another monster. Because Nicole, stubbornly so, continued to get rid of the insects surrounding them with human methods. When the jaguar prowled toward the shadows, the colony was quick to protect the giant termite. Oh. She let that sink in. Some sort of… queen bee bullshit, probably. Without the bees. Didn’t take a genius to see the only purpose of the insects was now to stop the the jaguar in his advance. He cried out in pain, and she felt a stab between her ribs. Right. The spirit. It couldn’t stand by and see one of their own wounded. She pushed for as long as she could, tried to see a way out but— But.

This was it. She felt the small thud of her hatchet sliding off her hand on onto the ground. She exhaled, surrendering to the call.

There was little to no pain this time, Nicole was too far gone to process why. Her conscience dissolved as soon as her ribs cracked, without the agonizing pain that usually accompanied it. Flesh tore, the spirit billowing from the cracks, engulfing the woman in its mist, protecting her in its own way. And when the jaguar sprung from within, it let out a powerful roar that reverberated against the trees. It lunged forward wasting no time, swatting away every termite that threatened the other, furious fangs and claws shredding through the termites' tough exterior with ease. It cleared the path for the other jaguar to reach the queen of the colony, ready to follow behind. Two against one, the large termite stood no chance.

Why wasn’t the woman shifting? The jaguar couldn’t help but marvel at her hesitance. Felix hesitated sometimes, too. When they were outside of that fighting ring, when they were somewhere with full control on their side, they were often slow to give it up. As much as the jaguar wanted to stew in his bitterness, to tell himself that Felix only used him as a proxy to pain and violence that they wanted no part of themself, there was a sense of understanding there that he couldn’t deny. The jaguar had little understanding of the intricate social situations that Felix struggled with on a daily basis, but he knew that the other had been without control for some time. He understood that it was a hard thing to give up once you’d had a taste of it.

Was this woman similar, then? Did she, like Felix, struggle with control? It wouldn’t matter soon. If she didn’t shift, she’d likely die here — they both might. Her skills with her blade were impressive, but no human fighting style would ever compare to that of an animal. The jaguar was a proud creature; he had a hard time believing that anything could best something like him when it came to skill and style. The only reason the insects were a threat at all was because of the sheer number of them, but with only two jaguars? Even that would be inconsequential. The woman only needed to shift to prove it.

He let out another low growl that sounded almost like a question, glanced at her as best he could without taking his attention from the fight. It was irresponsible, wasn’t it? To remain in such an inferior form. Even Felix gave in to the jaguar’s control when it became a necessity, though if pressed they’d likely say that the jaguar gave them little choice. As if he had less of a right to the body they shared than they did, as if they hadn’t been born together in this skin. When you shared a body, it wasn’t only yourself that you risked with your recklessness. The mandibles that tore through the jaguar’s skin hurt Felix, too. The hits Felix took in the ring battered the jaguar’s body just as much as it did Felix’s.

Finally, it seemed the woman understood this. The jaguar did the best he could to attract more attention during her shift, to ensure that none of the insects pounced on her during the briefly vulnerable state that came with being in between one form and the next. He yowled, he sliced, he accepted hits and blows that he didn’t necessarily have to take. The jaguar had spent years now as a shield for Felix; he could be the same for this new ally, too. Like creatures needed to stick together, particularly when there were so few of them.

Bones cracked, and the breathing pattern he heard behind him shifted from that of a human to that of a beast, to something more like him. Excitement thrummed in the jaguar’s chest. So long, it had been so long since he’d fought side by side with someone like himself.

He spared the other jaguar a quick glance, took note of her form. Something in his chest ached at the sight of her missing tail; Felix’s memories of an alleyway and a man flooded his senses momentarily. Those cold eyes on their tail, that strange claw that had sunk into their arm and made Felix’s mind fuzzy enough for the jaguar to take control without a fight. He’d tore his claws through the man’s face, but he wondered now if he’d done less damage than he should have, if the disorientation of whatever substance had been pushed into his veins had kept him from being effective enough to save this jaguar from a fate he’d escaped. But, more likely, she’d lost it in a fight. Right?

There was little time to dwell on it. The insects hadn’t paused in their assault. If anything, they were more adamant now, more desperate. It told the jaguar everything he needed to know. When your enemy fought to protect something from you, your best course of action was to target that thing. The insects did not want the pair to get to the larger one in the woods, and so the jaguar would make sure that his claws knew its flesh, would make sure that his companion shared in the victory as well. He surged forward, surrounded but confident with his newfound ally watching his back.

The herd was thinning only a little, but it was enough to push the pair of jaguars closer to the larger insect at its center. The jaguar yowled, a sound that was more reminiscent of a victory cry than the pained ones drawn out by the insects’ mandibles in the fight thus far. Close enough to have the larger insect within reach now, the jaguar drew back a clawed paw and slashed, expecting his ally to do the same.

Nicole’s jaguar ripped through enemies more viciously than it had ever done before. The beast was usually a mercy killer, it didn’t play with its food. One blow to the skull with no intention of extending the suffering of its prey was its preferred technique. There was more to play for now. Higher stakes. Its pride was wrecked when it was mutilated by that human. Now it wished to prove the spirit remained strong, even when it was no longer whole. Even with a stump for a tail and a weak human carrier. The insects fought against it like a well-oiled machine, too precise and too in synch to be chalked out to survival instinct. No. The other jaguar picked up on this strange behavior too. They had to exterminate the bigger threat and its colony would suffer as a result.

Easy enough with two beasts. Nicole’s jaguar gave up on its culling efforts, the colony thinning to the point where the two big cats could get to the queen without much opposition. The jaguar stalked toward the hidden figure, feral amber gaze studying its prey. Before the attack — before him— the feline would’ve waited, its hunting approach equal parts measured and devastating. But there was no measure now, the beast sought to destroy. It pounced before its ally, sharp fangs tearing into its exterior. It tore the queen piece by piece, inviting the other jaguar to bask in the demise. As if they were playing with a chewing toy instead of a formidable supernatural creature. The enemy’s body shook, both from the force of the attack and from its attempt to stop it, using its mandibles to defend itself. To no avail. The body came to a halt, sharp teeth too brutal to put up any fight.

As expected, the colony suffered, with painful screeching and clicking noises that preceded a massive exodus. No synchronicity in sight. They scattered any way they could, fearful their turn would be next. And it would’ve been, but Nicole’s jaguar had no interest in chasing the smaller creatures. Enjoy the bigger prize in its maw. And though it was no tasty meal, its pride kindling again made up for it. The ancient power within still burned. As it should’ve. Hunger sated, for now, the animal looked at its companion. There was no territorial urge to show dominance. Instead, it sniffed, committing the scent of its companion to memory. Would it be able to find this jaguar again? It had no recollection of the last time it had seen another one like him.

As parting ways without harming each other became the natural conclusion, something fought deep inside the animal. Warmth spread along its ivory belly, resting in its chest. The human. The jaguar acknowledged this, for the first time, instead of ignoring her wishes. She had given it a chance to get back its pride. Show the world what a mighty beast it still was. Had acted out of protection instead of the shameful fear she usually displayed. Perhaps, the encounter with that sadistic human had changed both of them. The marginal progress human and beast had made in their relationship seemed to be strengthening in one night, with two simple choices. She allowed the jaguar to exist, with no ifs or buts, no timeline, no plans to stifle it. In turn, the spirit could retreat, and allow her —Nicole, the jaguar conceded— to strike a connection she so desperately needed with the other human. Keep hold of the only other Balam they had encountered since her family had been slaughtered. It could only benefit both of them in the end.

Nicole expected to wake up as she usually did, with a jolt. Sudden, scary. The kind that pumped adrenaline into her veins as soon as her eyes opened, wondering how much had she missed that time. If she was even in the same place as before. If there were casualties to her name. But this time, she swam to the surface gently, enveloped in the mist, and then blinked herself into the forest. It was without a doubt, the strangest thing she’d ever felt. Amber eyes were replaced by brown ones, which stared at the other jaguar wide in fear. The forest floor prickled at her naked skin, and she was vaguely aware no termites surrounded her anymore. Which meant— Was she seriously left alone with a predator? What the fuck?

It was a sight to behold, the two jaguars working in harmony with one another. When the other jaguar joined him, the spirit that lived within Felix felt strong in a way he hadn’t in years now. So much of who he was had been swallowed by the human’s anxiety and clouded emotions. By the man they had loved who had betrayed them, by the gated pen where they called upon the jaguar only for him to hurt and be hurt in return. Even when he was freed like this, the jaguar had been more stifled in recent months. He had been unable to kill the man who found him after his encounter with the hunter and his knives, unable to swallow the glittery substance that spilled from the terrifying woman he’d found on the trail. Even when he was in control, he couldn’t leave the town without consequence; whatever trouble Felix had gotten themself into seemed to affect the jaguar as well, made it impossible for him to be free.

But here, now, in these woods with this other jaguar hunting beside him… Felix’s jaguar felt a strength he’d thought lost to him. And it was a good feeling.

She tore through the bug-like creatures with ease, and he followed along behind her. He let her take the lead; not a new sensation. In the days when they had lived within their family’s home, Felix and their jaguar had often been ‘support’ in fights or scrapes, and the jaguar didn’t mind falling back into the habit now. As he looked at the other jaguar and her missing tail, as he remembered his and Felix’s own experience with something similar, he thought she might need this a little more than he did. And the jaguar, who had gone without a like companion for so long now, would take what he could get.

So, as a team, they made their way to that largest insect. As a team, they tore it into shreds. It tasted bitter and unpleasant, but Felix’s jaguar gnawed on it all the same, a feeling of victory flooding his mouth right along with it. It was a short and brutal process. The bug was dismembered and torn apart and swallowed, and the smaller ones screeched and screamed and scrambled. And when it was over, the carnage wasn’t the sort that would bother Felix. The blood was not red, the pieces littering the forest floor were not human. The jaguar looked over at the other, a low sound in his throat offering acknowledgement of his entertainment. Again, he thought. We should do that again.

But only if they could find one another.

The easiest way to do that, he knew, was to allow the humans within to… connect. Felix was better at tracking people down than the jaguar was; he knew that. So, as the other jaguar began to shift and change, Felix’s let himself do the same. He stepped back, and he allowed the human to step forward. Bones snapped apart and then back together again; the sound echoed through the woods. When it finished, Felix curled around themself, disoriented and confused and flushing at their nudity and the realization that there was another person here with them.

Memories of the jaguar’s time in control were always hazy, if they existed at all. Sometimes, Felix got flashes that offered some explanation, but not often. This time, there was one flash clearer than the rest; part of him wondered if the jaguar had pushed it forward somehow, if he had wanted them to know. Regardless, they saw it — the distinct memory of another jaguar beside them, tearing the bug to shreds.

Felix looked at the stranger in the woods, eyes wide. “You — I think — Are you… a balam?”

Nicole's chest heaved, fingers digging into the ground, preparing to… What— run? It was fucking impossible to do it faster than the jaguar. If he wished to hunt her, he fucking would, she was at his mercy. But did he? There was a moment, where her eyes met the beast’s, and she almost believed there was something human behind them. A glint. Was that how hers looked too, when the jaguar took over? Was a balam different from a common animal? Was her use of the word common indicative of how the spirit felt for those who weren’t an ancient coalescence of spirit, beast and human? Were they beneath them? She couldn’t ponder on everything for too long, because that small glimpse of… soul, humanity— something, was a sign that the creature’s form was shifting. She had never seen it from this point of view. But, for whatever reason —an obvious one, had she been slightly more connected to her spirit— the other jaguar transformed too, the stocky build of the animal making way for its human counterpart. It was remarkable, and for the first time, she was the one who felt pride.

As Nicole took in the other person, who mirrored her terrified expression, the realization dawned on her: they were both naked. Heat burned up her neck, tinted her cheeks. Rationally, there was nothing particularly shameful about shifting back. She’d done it before, dozens of times. She gathered her clothes and tried to continue as normally as possible with her day. She’d never done it with somebody else by her side, though. But this was natural, her logic reminded her again. It was part of what they were. Something bigger than themselves, rare and powerful and— no, it didn’t mean she wasn’t absolutely fucking embarrassed by it. She scanned around the forest, searching for her clothes or anything to cover herself. A few feet away, her jacket looked unscathed. Somehow. She reached for it, and the backpack near it, which wasn’t spared. It was torn by the termites –or the jaguars possibly– but it still held its contents. She had a blanket somewhere in there, didn’t she? Especially as the winter became unrelenting and cruel, it was a must to bring along during treks. She rummaged through her bag, adamantly ignoring there was another person with her until she felt safer. Warmer. She pulled a blanket and offered it to them, unsure how transformations worked for them. If this was natural for them. Maybe she was the one making a big deal out of nothing. It was the woods, for fuck’s sake, no one would be looking, no one would even care. It worked to keep her sanity— sort of.

The question shouldn’t have caught her off guard, her own mind spinning with several questions she wanted to ask in return. Nicole felt like she’d be lying if she answered with a simple yes. It was never simple. She wasn’t just balam. First and foremost she always felt like a human, however betrayed those who raised her might feel over her allegiance . “I’m— Uh, my name’s Nicole” she offered flatly, with a shrug. But it was only a fraction of her identity, wasn’t it? Tonight of all nights, it had been easier to reconcile that she was both, that they didn’t have to stand with their backs to each other. At the very least, it didn’t feel like they were strangers anymore. “And yes… that’s— I can… I’m a balam” she mumbled, glancing at the ground. She put on her jacket, her body shuddering by reflex. Her gaze was back on her… ally? –Companion?– Uncertainty etched in her features. “I’ve never— met one like me before.” Her family had shared the stories of course, made sure she grew up proud of what they were, but always kept a layer of secrecy. Never shifted in front of the kids, always promised to wait until she was old enough to show her how to get in touch with the spirit. She was never old enough.

It was cold. Nacho was still waiting for her. Nicole didn’t want to leave, but the circumstances— “My car is— I left it somewhere,” she spoke before she could second guess herself, an idea quickly forming. No. She didn’t want to let them go. “I could—drive you home?” she shook her head, disagreeing with herself and her hesitance. “I want to drive you home. And maybe— we could… Maybe—” She’d always imagine she would shut down, if she ever met another one like her. That the pain and the memories would be too hard to cope with. That the walls around her heart would go up again much more easily than they were broken down. And though the undercurrent of grief was ever present, it was curiosity that overtook her. The spirit had given her this chance. Maybe both of them had similar wounds. Maybe it was hard for them too, to live with a beast inside them. If it was a delicate subject, she didn’t want to push. “I’d like to talk about this…us, if that’s— If you’d like to” a plea hid in her eyes, but she didn’t dare voice it.

She offered them a blanket, and Felix took it gratefully. They were a ways away from where they’d transformed now; as always, the memory of the transformation was only marginally less hazy than the things that had taken place during it. They remembered the same intense fear they usually got before a transformation, remembered the feeling of the jaguar ripping through them shortly after, but that was about it. It must have been tied to the termites, if the jaguar saw fit to follow and destroy them. Was it a good thing, they wondered? Was this something akin to ridding the world of a threat, or had they just… torn apart creatures in their natural habitat? It felt a lot better than waking up and realizing they’d hurt a person, but it still wasn’t great. It never really felt great. Felix wondered if it was different for her.

The thought brought their eyes back to her as they wrapped the blanket around their waist, using it to hide as much of themself from view as they could. There wasn’t as much embarrassment as there used to be. The Grit Pit had quickly desensitized them to nudity in the presence of other people, even if they still felt smaller than they knew they would have had they been a little more… clothed. Maybe it helped that she was naked, too, or that Felix knew that she understood this particular plight as well as anyone could. Or maybe that just made the awkwardness hang at a slightly different angle, like a painting sat askew instead of hanging straight.

“Felix,” they returned, committing her name to memory. Nicole. There was another balam here in Wicked’s Rest, and her name was Nicole. There was another balam here in Wicked’s Rest, and Felix wasn’t as alone as they’d felt since leaving their father’s house. They offered her a small smile, wondering if she was relieved or territorial. Jaguars were solitary creatures, but… She’d offered them a blanket. She’d told them her name. Maybe that meant something. “I, uh… I used to live with others. My family. But I’ve never met any outside of that.” They were rare, weren’t they? Harder to find than something like a werewolf or a lamia, who could become what they were later in life. Harder than a bugbear, too, who could be born anywhere. Balam were singular in their own way. Felix’s father used to insist there was pride in that. Felix didn’t feel very prideful these days.

There was something hesitant in the way she spoke; Felix could relate. They often second guessed their every word. For years, they’d thought it was wrong, somehow, but — Maybe it was okay. They nodded a little too quickly, not wanting the interaction to end now that they both knew what they knew. “Yeah,” they said. “I mean — Yeah. I’d like that. Um, I don’t… I mean, I don’t have anyone anymore who gets it. And I’d like that. If you wanted, I mean. We could… Maybe we could be friends?” Anxiety clung to every word, because what if she said no? It would kind of suck, finding someone like them for the first time in years only to piss her off so much that she shooed them away.

Nicole’s lips stretched into a smile. The rare one. The one that also reached her eyes, wrinkling at the corners. The one that made cheek muscles ache, unfamiliar with such action. It should’ve felt good, no? It did, didn’t? But something knotted her throat all the same. Something heavy that had nothing to do with the conversation and more with her body crashing from the emotional and physical toll. She had found another one like her after a decade, transformed into a jaguar to fight supernatural creatures, then shifted back into a human in the span of minutes. Nicole couldn’t handle that much. Not in one day, at least. She was exhausted, but so relieved. Was that what tightened her throat? She wasn’t used to positive emotions affecting her so deeply. She wasn’t used to positive things coming in such quick succession. To things working out without terrible consequences. But they—Felix, the other balam, sat across from her, proof it had been real. And what mattered more —her chin quivered, overwhelmed— she wasn’t alone anymore. “It’s good to meet you, Felix” she breathed out, small and teary eyed. She was curious about their family, and the use of the past tense to describe their situation. What did it— Had they suffered loss too? Instead of bombarding them with questions –questions she hadn’t exactly formed in her head yet– she smiled at them, apologetic. “Thank you for keeping me safe,” after all, it was thanks to them that they had come out of this encounter only with a busted ankle.

No one had ever asked to be her friend. Not even before, when life was normal. When she lived in a small town, every kid within a five-mile radius knew each other. Nicole never had to question or second guess social interactions back then. They were instant. Easy. And then— life took a turn, and she was never that woman again. She would never be her again. And this, connectioning, was never easy again. But Felix was very clear with their request, despite a stammering that was painfully familiar. It felt nice, to know someone’s intention right from the start. “Okay,” she nodded quickly, as soon as they finished tripping over their words. But in case they needed further reassurance, in case Felix, just like her, was a little clumsy with their social interactions, she tacked on, “I’d like that”.

They were going to be friends. And talk about— they would talk about what they were. How would that work? Her heart started racing at the thought. She wasn’t ready. No matter how similar Felix might be, what experiences they might share. She wasn’t ready to bleed her past again, to expose her poorly healed wounds to a stranger. There was another pound, a different one between her lungs. Calming her down. Right. She was doing this for both of them. She was… it was uncharted territory. But— This… friendship. It meant they could take their time, no? Felix had made no demands, only requested for her company. She could do that. She wanted to do that, before her anxiety could hijack her feelings. She stood, trying to ignore their half-naked bodies as she extended her hand to them. She looked up, blinking away tears. Why was she crying now? “Come on. Let’s find my car” she huffed, shaking her head, trying to convey that nothing was wrong with her. On the contrary, too many things were right this time.

They slowly began their trek back to the car, in a silence that didn’t feel awkward. Or maybe, Nicole was still reeling from everything to find it awkward. That could be it too. It was the sight of Nacho, obediently sitting next to the car, that suddenly got her tired mind working again. “Don’t be scared of my dog. He’s harmless” she whispered to Felix, unsure how they felt about other animals. If the cat and dog animosity would translate to balam and dogs. It didn’t with her so— it was going to be okay, right? “Likes everybody. Likes me too, knowing…” he had to know right? Animals were smart like that. “It’ll be fine,” she blew another nervous breath, which likely had little to do with Felix meeting her pet. It’ll be fine. Nicole clung to those words and the warm feeling they brought, as the pair made it to the car, ready to get out of the woods as quickly as possible.

#nicsalazar #nicole: claw and order #wickedswriting

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merxthewizard · 9 months

Text

I am a passenger in her car.

I am sitting in the backseat

I did this. This is my fault.

The trees zip by like bullets

The signal on gps phases in and out

This is stressing me out

This is stressing her out

She gazes back at me, her eye filled with what feels like hatred, maybe disappointment, maybe panic

I turn and look out the window, guardrails and road speed past me fast and faster

“I TOOK A WRONG DIRECTION”

Signal is out

Dread sets in as the hail beats down

We dodge and swerve and duck as the car shakes violently and jerks harder than a man possessed

She cries as our ears explode

Time ticks slowly as things race on by

Out of the forest, not out of the woods

Tears roll faster than the roads

An eerie quiet sets in slowly

Soft purr of pavement beneath

And the general sounds of the car

Things arnt going as fast now, still going

Still going, going on as the hills crawl

Slow down to a stop

Gas station

Shotgun

By that I mean

passenger

Steps out to use the restroom.

I’m left here. Alone. Not quite.

But alone.

I am a passenger in her car.

I’m left with the sounds of us two breathing

And the clicks and buzzes of the car idle

He’s back, we should talk, “I don’t want to”

It’s not safe to drive “I don’t care”

Get out and sit in the passenger “I’m driving.”

Fine. “Fine” “lets just sit here for a few minutes”

I softly mention. She’s mad at me. He’s just here.

We’re back on the road now, slowly heading home. I apologize. The roads start speeding up.

Faster and faster until reaching a more steady rate. She has a long drive, I have a long time.

She doesn’t want to talk. That’s fine. That’s fine.

I am a passenger in her car.

I get sharp gazes back at me mixed with sadness as she goes to the road. He’s messaging me on the phone what to say, I stay quiet. Better to let her just do her thing. I put on

Her music. Try and help her feel better.

We drive through what feel like ghost towns.

Occasional truck drives past

I am a passenger in her car.

I had a nice time at the park.

It was a serene sort of quiet.

Fitting for a place out in the hills.

We talked of magic and wonder in the world

We had a lunch of sorts and wandered in the woods. Somewhere in there I hurt her. Words I said? Probably. She got tired as we walked as I

Got lost. Not literally, there was a trail. Objectively we all were fine. She wanted the trip to be about her, I feel, I don’t say that, at least not immediately. Chilly spring day turns dark.

We all head back to the car. I hop in the back so long legs isn’t as uncomfy much to his argument and amusement. She’s not having fun. I don’t think shes had a nice time at all. All I’m getting are looks. We drive out of the park and then I say the spark that ignited this fire, in a set up of me trying to find the words and express my feelings I drop the one word that lit all of this ablaze

“Selfish.”

She does not like that.

I am a passenger in her car.

The Music becomes white noise along with the roads. Still fast and beating, but constant.

I think we all still settled down a bit more.

Signal is working again. One of her fave songs is playing. I don’t understand a thing. Both in lyric and seemingly in general. I keep my mouth quiet

Let this unroll and destress as the roads slowly become. Out of the forest not out of woods.

The roads here are awful, bumpy, tons of twist and turns, rocky and practically hazardous at times. She’s driving carefully.

Occasional truck drives past.

I am a passenger in her car.

I need to breathe a bit. My eyes fade in and out. Time passes. Tensions ease I feel. Just the sound of her music. Darkness slowly sets in, nights coming soon. My phone signal picks up and I get a small assault of messages. Nothing serious. “Does she want me to devote all I do and all of my time to her?” I say in my head. God knows what would happen if I said that out loud. “I don’t mean that do I?” Glad I’m keeping my mouth shut for once. Her album is done. I Politely offer some choices for next. She doesn’t care. I picked something comedic, I don’t think she found it funny.

I am a passenger in her car.

I make a few jokes to him, I don’t think he found them funny. Back to silence, besides of course the comedy album. I see a glimpse of her smile. She says skip the track with the damn sock puppet. I say I love you. She says I love you back, still upset. I’m glad things are calmer now.

Out of the forest, not out of the woods. Good enough. Hail turns to rain. She looks at me

I am a passenger in her car.

Jesus fucking Christ. I guess I never learn.

Lyrics of the song. Not much unlike my situation i guess. It’s getting colder, both the situation and the temperature. Rains beating pretty hard. Almost inaudible though due to music. White noise. Comedy record helped a bit, not much, but a bit. Good enough.

I am a passenger in her car.

That funny feeling comes on. The three of us sit in silence and just listen as she drives on. Rain beats slower. It’s cold. It’s quiet. It’s getting dark. Only sounds being that of music playing and white noise. “Hey what can ya say? But we were overdue, but it’ll over soon, you wait” just great. I look out the windows at the dilapidated buildings, damned, on one side of the road and glistening golf courses on the other, both fading in and out of twisted trees. Lights in the distance. Fellow people in cars and farms lights alike. Something else occasionally floating in the fields, might just be me.

I am a passenger in her car.

Album ends. Change to just whatever. Nevermind, change to something she likes. She smiles a bit. I don’t understand a thing, this time mostly in lyrics, having gained a bit of understanding. We’re nearing home. Apocalypse towers stand in the distance. Far from the hills. Bright lights of suburbia assault the way. The roads are steady, calm, paved decently, at least for this part of town.

We drive to get our friend home, after that we’ll see where we go.

Likely home.

I am a passenger in her car.

Music is off on the final stretch.

An eerie quiet sets in slowly

Soft purr of pavement beneath

And the general sounds of the car

Night has fully settled in, rain stops.

The stars are choked out by pollution.

Occasional truck drives past.

I am a passenger in her car.

We drop him off. He gets home safe.

“Do you want to talk about it or I just be quiet for now?” “There’s nothing to talk about”

She says as her tears roll more than the roads did.

quiet again. I look out the window. Just silhouettes contrasted against a dreary dark sky. Lights in the distance. Fellow people in cars and farms lights alike. Something else occasionally floating in the fields, might just be me. Stop sign. Everything stops seemingly, sound, lights, movement, even the cells in my body. Then at once it comes back. Just a weird stop in Ohio.

I am the passenger in her car.

We drive though a downtown of perpetual Halloween, blink and you’ll miss it, we pass the ymca that’s never called me back about a job, we pass a gas station with a boiled peanuts sign, we’re getting closer to home. We pass the train tracks, and the ice cream place, and the crossroads we both nearly died at years ago. We’re almost home. Feel the bump of the curb beat the car as it all comes to a stop. We’re home.

I am no longer a passenger In her car.

A bit more than a year passes by (the epilogue)

like trucks on the road what seems like ages ago.

I am a passenger in her car.

Her and I are no longer together.

Torn apart by time and a person so vile thinking about them, and the horrors I didn’t know they committed when I asked them to be a roommate, make me sick.

I should mention, not my friend from before. we’re still good friends, but that’s besides the point.

We’re going through the process of washing my hands of those two and the mess us three are in.

I’ll be fine, like always eventually. Still have feeling for her, always have, always will, but this is for the best for both of us.

She picked me up from where I moved to after being kicked out. I see the place we called ours for so long, I see roads we walked together and enjoyed the time. I see that bastard roommates car with a new large dent in it.

Not my fault, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a bit cathartic.

I am a passenger in her car.

I will admit, and have admitted, that I was loud and mean, which can be scary considering someone my size, but in the end all bark, no bite.

She was neglectful at best, abusive at worst. Nothing unforgivable, nothing horrible. We both just need more help than we were getting. I hope we get it

The roommate, she’s a piece of work. arguably the most petty, manipulative, piece of shit, waste of oxygen, dog abusing, maybe baby killing, no good cancer of a human being I have ever met.

I’m saying that well aware dear family, friends, and friends of friends of mine have had cancer. That bad and infectious of a person, no other way to put it.

It’s hard dealing with anger and hurt like this, especially after so much that’s gone on. Easy to reflect on it though, particularly when one is waiting to get to the destination.

My exes music plays in the car as I see storage units and apartments pass by. Her mom, I, and her, all joke and laugh and catch up a bit in the time we have. Gives one hope a bit

I am a passenger in her car.

We get to where we were going, we do what we need to do, we get answers and questions, but ultimately a way to go.

Goes well.

Her and I talk a bit, I take this once chance I had to fully, truly, apologize for the mess we’re in, maybe talk about how her and I can go forward into a brighter later. Get a maybe, she asks for time. I’ll take those. Those are good comparatively.

More days pass, more answers, less questions, and more of the roommates rot seeping and oozing. I’m doing what I can to just be kind to my ex who’s clearly being manipulated.

It’s sad to see.

It’s hard to see.

I miss her . I hope she gets better, I hope she finds better, I hope she learns better and kicks the roommate to the curb.

My sleep is disrupted every night, getting less so, but hasn’t stopped so far, of my mind wandering and fearing what could happen. good, bad, or horrible.

I hate sleeping alone. I wish I had someone here, maybe her, but anyone will do just to help. A human antibiotic to help with the pain, get rid of the infection left in me slowly.

I’ll figure it out. I’ll move as the trucks did what seems like so long ago. I’ll keep on as the rain on that night. I’ll keep driving as she did.

I’ll always miss her just as I loved her. Now Despite it all,

I wish I was the passenger in her car

And that we rode into the sunset together.

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melusinedreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Strange Trails Pt II

Continuing the Western AU, this time featuring Ms Malady herself

The dust of the road barely kicks up as you pass. Whipped clean by the storm last night, or feeling so ashamed it lays still. Your skin still stings with the aftermath, tiny little scratches where your bandana hadn’t been enough.

Could always be worse, you remind yourself as you walk, the sun creeping down below the edge of the hills ahead.

Dusk lasts a long time in towns like this. The desert stretches on into the horizon and the sun takes its time on the way down. Not like in the forests up north where the twilight comes down like a noose, strangling the day before it can even get started. Stealing the hours for itself.

Is that why you’ve come west? Fleeing the early darkness? Looking for a lasting light?

Is that why you’ve brought your gun?

The sky presses down like an open palm out here with nothing to stop it. The vastness of space hovering just over your head, like you might just fall into it if you’re not careful. Like maybe you already have.

Feels like you’ve been on this road for ages but the sun hasn’t gone more than a handsbreadth. The light is only a little dimmer. Can’t have been more than half an hour at the outside so why do your legs feel so heavy? Why are you tired down to your bones?

You really should find a doctor.

The town is just as small as the sheriff said. Maybe a dozen shops and storefronts on the main road and only one of them could be the saloon. The ones you pass sit heavy on their frames. Settled, like. Bone bleached wood and peeling paint everywhere you look.

You can feel eyes on you as you pass and no wonder. Town this small can’t see a lot of traffic but no one stops you. Only one building out the way you came in. The Night Market must have a lot of faith in their sheriff. Or a lot of fear.

You follow the smell of whiskey and smoke to the well lit building on the corner. Paint’s fresher. Porch is swept as clean as it can be in a town with unpaved roads. It doesn’t go quiet when you step inside, but only because it was already quiet.

Every eye is on you, pressing down like the sky.

The woman you’re here to see is behind the counter. You don’t need an introduction. There’s just no one else it could be.

Her hair falls over her shoulder like fresh blood. Her eyes are sharp enough to spill it and they’re fixed on you. For a moment they seem almost to glow, lit from within, molten.

The jail cell may have been safer.

Someone giggles from the corner, a dark haired woman laughing behind her fan. But the sound breaks the detente and you amble to the nearest barstool.

“You look like you could use a drink,” she says, lips curved like a sickle as she sets two glasses on the smooth countertop. Slides one across to rest at your fingertips. “On the house.”

“Mighty friendly of you.”

She shows all her teeth as she pours the liquor. You saw a shark once, down south. If a shark could smile, you reckon it might smile like Ms Malady. “Call it a welcome present. We don’t get many of your kind these days.”

Your brows make a run for your hairline and even though you can feel how unwise it is you can’t stop your tongue from saying, “My kind?”

“Strangers.” She raises the glass, the whiskey much redder than you expect. “Cheers.” She downs hers in one long swallow, the white skin of her neck just a touch too smooth. Bloodless. If she minds that you haven’t touched your drink she doesn’t show it. “What can I do for you, stranger?”

“Blew into town last night with the storm,” you say. “I need a room for the evening. The sheriff said you’re the woman to see. His hospitality didn’t extend much past my arrest, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, that sounds like him. I am indeed,” she agrees. “Though I am a little surprised he deigned to admit it.”

“So you can help me?”

“I can rent you a room,” she says, which you notice isn’t a yes.

“Then maybe you’ll help me with something else, too.” You fiddle with the edge of the glass for something to do with your hands. “I’m looking for someone. A man from town, I suspect, only I don’t know his face.”

She laughs, tinkling like a bell. The sound is wrong in some way that’s hard to place until you realize. Like a bell, the sound ringing from her throat like metal. “That is quite a problem.”

You hold the glass harder before forcing your grip to relax. “Only saw him for a few minutes, but he had a ring I expect will be easy enough to find. Big thing, gold, but it had some black, too. Oil, maybe. Looked like a signet, cut with a gate or a fence.”

“Char,” someone says from the corner. A man, from the timbre, sitting with his back to you both. “The black on the ring is charcoal, from the ranch fire.”

“You know him, then.” It’s not a question.

Ms Malady is looking at you just like the sheriff did as she recorks the bottle. “Seems we’ve solved both your problems, stranger. Happy hunting.”

She walks away as the gentleman stands, though unfolds might be a closer truth. He’s scarecrow lean, clothes hanging on his shoulders like they were cut for a larger man. You don’t see a gun but you aren’t so foolish as to assume that means he don’t have one.

His curls shade his eyes when he finally turns to face you, a few coins rattling on the table top as he steps away leaving behind a mostly empty bottle and a wholly empty glass.

“I know the fella you’re looking for,” he says with a grin that feels more like a grimace. “But you won’t find him in town.”

You turn on your stool. You’re not sure whether that’s to be polite or to be safe. “Where can I find him, then?”

“I’ll take you,” he says with a chuckle. “It’s not far.”

#the night market #western AU #my fic #belladonna malady #fic: strange trails #milo next

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justarandomsoul · 4 days

Text

Chapter 2

Working the night shift isn’t too bad. We get the dinner rush which pulls in some nice tips, and besides the occasional disgruntled customer I can go through the shift in peace.

About two hours before we close, I begin closing duties. While there is a lot if I can get most of them done, I can just keep it maintained with whatever remaining time I have before I can clock out.

By ten o’clock most customers have left and not having to pause as much to return to the cashier, I can finish the rest of the closing duties. With thirty minutes to spare I just stand behind the cash register and wait for the time to run out.

Lost in thought I down hear the door open, nor the almost silent footsteps. What gets my attention is when the hair on my arms raises. Spinning around I spot the cause for my instincts to be on high alert.

A man dressed in a plain t-shirt and jeans is approaching the cash register. Doing a quick scan he doesn’t seem to be giving a physical reason to my alertness. He’s tall with a strong build but other than that he looks like a normal guy. Ignoring the gut feeling that I don’t understand I put on my customer service smile.

“Hello, welcome in.” I watch as he does a quick scan of me too before he gives me a polite grin. “Are you ready to order?” I say as I turn my attention the iPad in front of me, ready to type in his order.

“Hmm,” glancing up, his attention is on the menu above me, “Can I get a cheeseburger and some curly fries.”

As I type it in, I ask if he wants a drink along with it. Once his order is typed in and paid for, I hand him his cup and tell him his food will be out shortly. I keep an eye on where he’s at all the way until closing manager tells me we’re closed, and I can go ahead and head home.

I clock out, grab my stuff and practically scurry out. He’s been watching me almost the whole time. Even when I’m not taking quick glances at him, I can feel when his eyes are practically burning a hole in the back of my head. So, once I’m out of the building I give a sigh of relief.

Grabbing my bike, I quickly put distance between me and the little fast food diner place that I call work. I don’t know why but I must put as much distance between him and I. Once I’m a few blocks away and couple streets out of sight I finally slow just a tad.

The next five minutes to the house are calmer. It’s late so hardly anyone is out making it almost completely silent. Walking up the road I approach my house. The calm silence is nice for a change.

The past few hours were spent with loud customers and kitchen staff calling out tickets. So, with it being calm and quiet, besides a cricket hiding in the grass, it’s a nice change.

Unlocking the door, I slip in and take my work shoes off. Flipping on a light, I go into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water and go upstairs. Each step makes a loud creek.

Quickly changing into black jeans and a black shirt. I retie my hair and put a beanie on and make sure all the growing horns are covered. Even though it’s too warm for a jacket I put one on and zip it up. With as much of my skin covered as I can I go back downstairs and put my work shoes back on before slipping out of the house.

Instead of going through the neighborhood I go through the forest. While I am nervous about running into that creature again, it’s better to be out of view and away from home security cameras.

I’m careful to try and walk on rocks or where the dirt is drier. Less tracks the better. When I pass my school, I decide now is a decent time to go through the town.

As I walk through the blocks I keep an eye out for any civilian search points. While they are a lot less guarded the military personnel are a lot less busy and more observant. By the time I reach my destination it’s pushing one in the morning.

Now being in the middle of town where the main road passes, I go to my normal dark corner. It’s the only spot without being lit up, making it difficult to spot me from just a glance.

As I get in a comfortable position low to the ground I take a quick survey of the area. With it being empty and decent distance from the forest there is no sound, not even the wind.

This road weaves through the town before it cuts through the forest on both sides. This road splits off from an interstate about sixty miles from here. The opposite way it feeds into a military base where they ‘help’ or ‘rehabilitate’ half beast.

When I hear the distant rumble of armored trucks I hunker down and make myself as small as I can. The last thing I want is for them to spot me and accuse me of spying. I mean, I am, but what the government has been sugar coating is major red flags.

As the pass I scan each one. The first two are for security, to stop anyone from getting to the other vehicles or for anyone getting away is debatable. The next three are covered for a change. Normally they have an open cage like back that a few times I’ve seen carrying people. This time they have several tarps over it covering it from view. The last two are identical for the first two.

Since they’ve decided to start covering who they are transporting I decide to test out just how much I can hear. Closing my eyes I focus on the middle car. I listen to the many heart beats that flood my ears. Too many. They all blend I can’t decipher how many there are.

Quickly I change my focus to the other cars before they’re too far out of hearing range. So many heart beats. I’m sure if I could see behind the tarps the cages would be jammed pack with people.

With them well out of sight and on their way out of town I slowly get up from my position. I make my way home lost in thought.

There was so many. If they’ve been upping the search, then they must me checking for every little sign of changes. I don’t know what I’m going to do. It’s a matter of time before I get caught. I’ve heard of people trying to disappear and hide but they’ve always been searched and caught. So that rules out running and hiding. My best option is to maintain a normal schedule and try to avoid any and all searches. At least until I come up with a better plan.

Being so caught up in thought I don’t notice the footsteps. When I get to the same road that I used to leave the forest that is when I finally hear the footsteps. Along with another pair coming down a side street.

Keeping speed, I take a quick glance to spot the man from earlier. Quickly I cross the street before whoever was coming down the side street ends up in front of me. When I’m half a block from the forest I decide to make a run for it. As soon as I take off, they follow.

I go deep in the forest in hopes of losing them. Passing tree by tree. The blood rushing through my ears almost drowns out their footsteps. Gaging by how sensitive my hearing has become and how loud they are I’d say they’re about fifteen feet away from me.

When I’m approaching my house, I take a sharp right turn. I need to lose them before I can run home.

I risk a glance back to see only the man from earlier. He doesn’t look the least bit winded. That’s not good. With how fast we’ve been running and how far we’ve gone most people shouldn’t be able to keep up.

Glancing around there’s nowhere to really hide. If I keep going, I’ll be trapped by a rock wall. I’ve started to breath heavier as my lungs feel like they’re about to burst.

When I don’t hear his footsteps, I risk another glance back. Nothing. Slowing down a tad I listen around. I come to a stop and listen carefully trying to locate him. Silence.

Still not trusting the forest I try and quietly walk. I keep my head on a swivel and listen for anything and everything. I keep going for almost thirty minutes until I feel secure enough to return home.

Silently I walk across the street, arriving to my house. I go up and open the door and slip in carful to keep an eye out for where they may have gone. I tap into my sensitive hearing to make sure they didn’t somehow find my house.

Getting ready for school I’m still cautious but I don’t think they followed me out of the forest. When it’s time to leave I make sure to bring a beanie to cover my head when I could. As I bike to school the town is a bit more active than it was a couple hours ago, but most people are still sleeping.

Going through the day is normal, and boring. I’ve fallen asleep in two classes so far and everyone seems to be on edge. From the gossip I’ve overheard some of the football guys got caught as beasts.

As the day drags by, I hear more and more students talking about them and how they were taken into custody. Very few say it’s sad, most agree they were monsters, no that’s too kind, abominations. That it was good they’re parents posted on social media that if they’re released, they are not welcomed home.

I decided to walk my bike home, wanting to think over what’s been going on. My lack of awareness causes me to not notice the new civilian search.

#romance #fantasy #survival #novel #faerie #werewolf #werewolves

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fortunefishsalad · 2 years

Text

12/12/21

untitled ||

i look under stones, fear dripping down my forearm and turn over bedrooms, lightning in my eyes and the lights come on and the lights go off where can i find you

untitled ||

lock the door behind me for i’ll leave the key with you lock the door, you can bar it with metal and throw a match behind your back if i’m meant to burn up i’ll find a way to burn bright just give me the gasoline and remember, lock the door behind you it’s a fire in a room it’s a fire not for you

lock the door behind you the windows slowly close and slamming phones shut flipping out and scratching walls i can hear ringing can you lock the door and put a towel under the crack so the smoke stays in here with me lock the door behind you so i can finally breathe could you lock the door behind you it’s silly but i’m afraid your tears will put out the blaze it’s your footsteps that feed the flame it’s the turn of the key in that rusted bolt and the stories you tell your friends and the memories we thought we made the ones you’ll leave out with the trash so lock the door behind you because this burn is 3rd degree and i want to feel it singe untitled

there’s wet paint on the bottom of my shoes and my hands, they’re too sweaty to hold but the pavements marked with white and my footprints lead to hell it’s a shiny, shimmering landscape the kind you miss the moment it’s gone and learn to hate every day forward

war paint ||

i will frown like the mouth of a cave and cut tangled forests off my head industrialize my eyelids with black and greys let mascara pour down my face, leaving trails of pain and warning

i take knives up and down my cheeks and spread them wider with my hands holes to make the children scared and a face to thunderstorm the pound with a dismembered hand, cut from my right arm held on in my left palm dripping with fresh, dried blood

i walk up and down the road and scream, moan, divine untouchable and formidable let me sit in this street the cars will go around my corpse with every driver telling some story making up some detail so driving past is making tea

it’s an empty dark road lit up in shades of red with blood running in puddles, streams, and rivers around my body different shades and stories all friends who, given the chance, would ruin any chance at happiness for me im sorry ||

it’s a burden to carry the responsibility it’s a curse to enjoy this dinner with you because, regardless of how many times i do this i can never tell you the reality in this middle-grade fiction series i’m the recurring villain and you’re a victim, i’m an arc you’ll get through, and you’ll remain unchanged, save for a new enemy and time wasted for me, that pit will grab a shovel dig deeper than deep can see in a pitiful remembering of each half-assed forget me if you wish apology

after one million apologies ||

a small fire lights inside my chest one that is characterized by infinite love trapped within the confines of responsibility chained to the walls with honesty and effort and it burns off the scraps it reminds me that it’s you that reflection that exists in a mirrorless world in a digital studio where the brushes are all different ages of my face painting a mural dedicated to the one constant

some would find a common denominator in their issues the true only living excuse for every issue for me, i am the brightest and most ever i am not god, perfection finds discomfort in me however i am enough beyond my mistakes, everyday another page of grievances, to you, my deepest love, deep as long as the list of regrets infinite forgiveness coupled with never-ending loneliness dripping ||

someone shoved a sewing needle into the side of my thigh back when i was young enough to think i could feel as a human rather than a burden and since that moment, i’ve hear a soft noise on millions of grounds a wet coagulation on the dirt road, the flowing off of a leaf, the splash into black asphalt, a soft carpeted sound, the squish of liquid against human thigh

it’s me in this factory, churning and producing by habit in an effort to keep the highest floor window bolted rather than a final skydive though with no chance of healing this hole of change forces me to replace air pockets of who i am a sunburnt trail of summers and frostbitten winters this orange thick, coursing, attention seeking, emotional, stoic, cynical drip leaking out into this undeserving terrain a trail of me coloring people, shifting moments, distorting emotions, exposing truth, uncomfortably realistic and i collect a small jar to shish around and watch a little bit of me i dip my brush in and my eyes go red and black in haze and hate i paint a mural as people pass the piece they violently begin to tear up tearing up their everything screaming in the face of truth and my body hanging close by they stop not for me but in an effort to admire something worth leaving in the wake up death the hermit is bored ||

i’ll have your shoes laid out pretty and polished as they were when you left, ready for your return

i put cameras in the bathroom, ignore the beeping flashing red light, my friends hate me now, they’ve found reasons to never forgive me, things i’ve done that were worse than murder but you my love, you hate me enough to love me forever _ i put cameras in your bathroom, and a microphone under your bed, so ignore me if early past midnight, you see me, headphoned, searching through audio each time they got distant and read with no reply before blocking my number and turning to walk away, they asked about you, how someone so perfect could love someone like me my sides ached and my head pounded no amount of equations made sense to me either _ so under moonlight and bird sound in empty streets plugged into an electric stop sign i review infinitely over the data i have only for nothing to make sense eating this two headed snake, my brain waves begin to shake, and the wires cross and connect i can’t find one thing right with you and i can’t find the courage to tell you but i can find the love to love you and i can find the heart to take it _ in this haze of hatred and isolation in ostracization and heads in the sand i am bothered and surrounded by empty loves who think they have found something to hate finally, proof they are good, in comparison with this awful and my mouth seems super glued shut, save for praise for your stagnant stupidity so when i go to sleep at night i am not an awful person, i just don’t need you to be good your time ||

if i cover my mouth, like this, does the hot air forming into the cold bother you? i would wait until summer comes to breathe again

do my eyes say too much? if i shut them up and clam them closed, there won’t be shit to see

i’ve frozen my hands to the metal, otherwise they’d move, they’re always twitching like you said

i carved a hole where life could start, i pulled out organ after organ to install a heated blanket, dripping, wet, and warm for you

if my heart beats out of time with yours, i fear you’ll hear it’s murmur, now it sits in a glass jar by your bed

you always were the great romancer

carpets ||

i want to give one million slow neck kisses to the artist who made this shag rug to the god who created such a perfect thing and as i nuzzle my chest into the ground the soft love it offers back surrounds me

when standing on my feet gets heavy and i crumple onto hardwood isolation something soft like forever holds me in an infinite gravity powered hug as if the earth itself is holding me in her breast

sprawling out between a mile long list of responsibilities i ache and my chest gets heavy and dark pooling and pouring out from my eyes the earth’s love surrounds me on this fluffy rug this kind carpet

middle-aged eyes ||

you were little when you asked why we work too little to worry about your career you were bothered by how unmarketable you were everything you made had to have value you asked me to sell your macaroni art, and to put it in a trust fund did you not trust me to support you? or did you know the moment you’re born you’re already late for your first interview

selling homework on the playground and presidenting every club, founding four more you brought your resume to class everyday coworkers would come to study after school they’d play dolls while you studied mandarin you scheduled in every ‘i love you’

in your notebook in your office, i found a eulogy you’d written for my funeral and the budget coupled with expenses i sobbed ugly and loved

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Note

sibling hybrid!creeper reader headcannons/one-shot for SBI ( + ranboo? 🧍‍♀️ ) hurt/comfort. like maybe the reader struggles with emotions and doesn't know how to deal w/ them healthily, so they end up bottling them up and kinda explode at times.

sorry if this is too specific, i just really like your writing :) congrats on 1k!! <3

and one last thing,.. can i be 🫂 anon?

(A/N): I had a lot of fun with this one, and thank you : ) I hope you don’t mind that I added Tubbo. Also one more thing, I imagine the explosion is kinda like a Bakugou situation but uncontrollable

Warnings: anti-hybrid rhetoric/slurs (speciesism???), swearing, blood (not much, just mentions of a nose bleed)

It was completely an accident this time, it all just came so fast. You were standing in front of a store window when you felt something rub against your leg. When you looked down, panic engulfed your entire being when you saw an orange cat rubbing and nuzzling against your leg, letting out deep purrs. You had no clue why this cat wasn’t chasing you like all other cats usually did, but you didn’t want to ponder. You felt the familiar pressure building up inside of you as a startled hiss left your mouth and you jumped away from the creature. Your skin was sparking and popping as your freckles lit up in a glowing green light.

Finally, explosions left your skin as the glass shattered next to you and gravel was turned up and thrown about. You fell to your knees and rubbed at your burning eyes and wiped the blood from your nose. Exploding like that had always taken a lot out of you and made your nose bleed. You suspected that it was because of the sudden build up and release of pressure and energy.

The back of your shirt was grabbed and you were yanked off from the ground. There staring at you was the owner of the shop that you accidentally blew up. His green eyes were ablaze as he gritted his teeth and looked into your eyes.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?! You blew up my window!”

Small hisses left your mouth, “I-I’m sorry sir I swear I didn’t mean t-”

“Like hell you didn’t! Your kind always destroys everything!”

You stopped struggling and narrowed your eyes at him, “my kind?”

“Yes, hybrids! Filthy mutts, all you do is destroy! You’re a bunch of freaks.”

You could feel another explosion coming about and this time you did not even attempt to hold this one back. You stared him dead in the eyes with the harshest glare you could muster. As soon as the hisses started to leave your mouth and the freckles once again glowed green, the man’s eyes widened before he threw you into the street away from the building. Another explosion left you and disassembled the neat cobblestone of the road. A single stone flew and shattered what was left of the store window. Another flew and hit the store owner in the head knocking him out.

And here you were now; hisses left your mouth as you ran down the beaten path of the village towards the exit. The iron golem following you was hot on your tail, it’s booming footsteps picking up dust clouds from the gravel. Villagers around you scattered and started to whisper fearfully amongst themselves. You could feel their fearful and angry stares burning holes through you. After you got out of the village and the iron golem was still chasing you, you ducked into the forest where you knew it wouldn’t follow you. You climbed up a tree and watched as the golem angrily smacked the foliage out of the way before it gave up and hobbled back into the village.

You dragged your feet tiredly back home, wanting nothing more than to collapse in your bed. Your senses were on overdrive as you were hyper aware of everything around you. You’ve never exploded twice within the span of ten minutes before, and it wore you out. Small exhausted hisses left your mouth as you trudged along the path.

After getting home you walked past a confused and concerned Wilbur, dodging his hands that were trying to grab you so he could get a better look at you. You walked up the stairs ignoring his questions and walked past Tommy.

“Hey sparky, what’s got you lookin like shit?” He asked you before he started to laugh to himself at the nickname he knew you hated. You winced at the volume of his voice before you hissed angrily and stomped off into your room before you passed out immediately in your bed the second you threw yourself onto it.

You didn’t wake up until a hand shook you awake firmly. You peeled open your eyes to see Tommy hovering over you looking slightly scared. When you fully opened your eyes, he sighed in relief.

“Oh my fucking Ender, I thought you died for a second.”

You only groaned and covered your head with the covers trying to block out the morning light streaming into your room and Tommy’s voice. He shook you more, your entire bed shaking with it. “Get up. Dad wants you downstairs for breakfast cuz you skipped lunch and dinner.”

You said nothing as he ripped the covers off from you eventually and pulled you out of your bed. You landed on the floor with a thump and hissed a little in frustration. You stood up and pushed him out of your room and slammed the door behind him. The locked door handle jimmied before it stopped and everything was silent. You prayed that he went away, but alas he didn’t. You rubbed your forehead when he started to knock at your door in multiples of two.

Knock knock, “(y/n)?” Knock knock, “(y/n)?” Knock knock, “(y/n)?” Knock kno-

“I’ll be down in a minute fuckface. I’m gonna get dressed.”

“If you aren’t down in five minutes I’m getting Techno. He’ll carry your ass down.”

Downstairs, you shambled into the kitchen past the table and poured yourself a cup of coffee. Your family silently watched you before the conversation started back up again. You plopped down next to Wilbur and sipped at your coffee deliriously. He eyed you in concern, “you okay?” You hummed and poked at your eggs. You didn’t feel hungry at all. “You su-”

“Yes, I’m sure Wilbur.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and returned to your coffee. After your fourth cup of coffee you were cut off by a concerned Philza. Even after four cups of coffee, you still felt slightly physically drained and it showed in your sluggish movements. Your day went by with you holding in your frustration and anger from everybody constantly asking if you were okay. Days of holding in explosions passed with them finally leaving you alone. However, that did nothing to alleviate your bottled up frustrations.

Techno was sitting on the couch reading a book while Wilbur was sitting in the chair across the room trying to find the lyrics of his next song. Philza was in the kitchen doing who knows what. You were currently walking up to Tommy’s room to say hi to your old friends Tubbo and Ranboo after getting home from a trip to another village.

That trip was rough for you but not as rough as the one a few days prior; you could only stand so much fear filled and hateful staring after all. Your creeper features consisting of pitch black irises and dark gray sclera, a mop of dark green hair, and green freckles sprayed randomly across your skin was definitely an attention grabber for anyone. A few of the kids even threw rotten tomatoes and stones at you, it was so hard holding in explosions by the time you left that you just felt very overwhelmed. Hanging out around the self proclaimed ‘bench trio’ always enough to calm you down from a rough day. Mellohi’s muffled relaxed beat makes the corners of your lips twitch into a small smile.

However just as you opened the door to Tommy’s room, you could hear their conversation end. “Hey guys, how’re-”

A yelp left your throat as something very cold drenched your body. An iron bucket came tumbling down and hit your head before falling to the floor with a clank. The pressure that has been building up in your chest increased tenfold, but you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and turned to walk to your room for a change of clothes. Behind you, you heard Tommy laughing hysterically while Tubbo tried to apologize between his own laughter. You didn’t even have to look at Ranboo to know that he was guiltily fiddling with his sleeves as his tail flicked back and forth sharply.

After you went into your room, you grabbed your pillow and screamed as loud as you could into it to blow off some steam. After that didn’t work, you tried punching the pillow relentlessly but that didn’t work. You could still feel pressure and energy inside your chest lingering and threatening to burst.

You sighed and made your way downstairs walking past Tommy’s door. You could now hear Ranboo laughing with them, and that just made you even more angry than you were before.

Everything around you was pissing you off. Philza’s wings fluttering behind him subconsciously, Technoblade’s little ‘heh’’s as he read something that caught him off guard in his book, Wilbur’s humming and mumbling to himself as he composed his next song, Tommy’s, Ranboo’s, and Tubbo’s loud laughter echoing from Tommy’s room. Every little sound was enough to send you over the edge. Just as you were about to leave the house to calm down again, a knock sounded at the door.

Philza gently pushed you behind him with furrowed brows and a hand on the sword hung around his hip. Techno’s book snapped shut as he stood up to grab his axe while Wilbur walked over to you and put a protective hand on your shoulder. You understood why they were cautious; you didn’t normally get visitors and the last time the house did, it was someone that decided to try and attack Technoblade on sight when he opened the door screaming about how hybrids aren’t natural. Keyword: tried. Techno absolutely would’ve killed him if it wasn’t for Philza holding him back.

You felt anxiety creep up inside you as you fought against the small hisses trying to escape your mouth. The door opened slowly to reveal the store owner from a few days ago. His eyes hardened when he saw the wings sprouting from Philza’s back before his eyes flicked to you. He did not look happy to see you behind your dad’s massive wings. Without another word, you turned and ran up to your room when you felt the pressure become almost unbearable.

You ran past Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo who were leaving Tommy’s room with hesitance. You didn’t respond when they tried to stop you. Slamming your door closed, you sat on your bed with your head clutched in your hands desperately trying to fight against the pressure building up. Small pops sounded on your skin as you grit your teeth in concentration. You could hear knocking at your door, thank god you locked it behind you. You had no idea how long you were sitting there trying to hold it back.

When the pressure became too much and you felt yourself losing grip on your control, you knew you needed to get out of the house as soon as possible. This was going to be a huge explosion, probably the biggest one you were going to do. The loud continuous hiss that left your throat was something you weren’t actively doing, another telltale sign that you were about to explode. You ripped open the door, pulled yourself from Tommy’s grasp, and ran as fast as you could downstairs. Philza followed you with a furious expression when he saw you, the store owner seemingly having left.

“(Y/n), what in the hell did you do?” He grabbed your arm and pulled you to the living room. You tried your hardest to pull out of his grasp, but he was holding on too tight. The hissing had gotten slightly louder, but you moved a hand up to your mouth to try and muffle it. He sat you down on the couch and started pacing in front of you, his feathers puffed up angrily. Wilbur and Techno were eyeing you warily from across the room.

“What were you thinking, blowing up his store like that? Were you even thinking? Cuz that was stupid (y/n). Hybrids get enough bad rap, and you go and pull this?!”

“Dad-”

“Not now Wilbur. As I was saying, you could’ve killed someone! What would you do then-”

“Dad,” Techno’s assertive tone stopped Philza in his tracks as he ran a hand down his face. “What could you possibly want right now, boys?”

“(Y/n)’s gonna explode soon.” Wilbur hurried over to you and helped you up. You could hear the three younger boys’ steps thundering down the stairs. By now, you were visibly shaking and sweating with the effort of holding explosions back. You could see the glowing of your freckles through the reflection of Wilbur’s glasses.

“Shit,” Philza sounded panicked in that moment as Wilbur ushered you out of the house and into the forest. You pushed him away and stumbled your way deeper into the forest. You heard them attempting to follow you, but you gestured for them to get back. You had no idea how big this one was going to be, but it was definitely going to be large.

You ran deeper into the forest until you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Leaning against a tree, you finally let yourself explode. This one was painful; your skin burned with every pop that emanated from your freckles, the burning making your free nerve endings scream at you. The last thing you saw was a wave of dirt splashing up before you blacked out.

You were in and out of consciousness for the next week or so. Whenever you would wake up slightly, it would only be for a couple moments before you would pass out again. It was in those moments that the pain and the lack of energy hit you at full force. You supposed being unconscious was better than the mental and physical fog and the pain.

By the time you fully woke up, your senses were slightly hyperactive, but nowhere near how you felt when you blew up that store. You reached up with a heavy hand to wipe at your crusty eyes before you heard rustling next to you. You looked over to see Philza standing at the door with a glass of water in his hand. When he saw that you were awake, he rushed to your side and helped you sit up. You took the water gratefully and drank it, the liquid refreshed your dry throat.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Tired and a little sore. How long was I out for?”

“About a week, you really worried us. That was a really big one. Do you know why it was so big?”

You nodded and looked down at the water in your hands, swirling it around the glass. You didn’t want to tell him about feeling angry and overwhelmed at every little thing around you the past few days. You felt guilty at that, they were just trying to live their lives while you were cursing them for merely existing. A finger under your chin made you look up at Philza. His eyes were full of gentleness and empathy, “c’mon, you can tell me. I want to help you.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Start wherever you feel comfortable. Take as much time as you need.” He sat on the edge of your bed and looked around your room while he waited. You took a second to gather your thoughts before you took a deep breath. Philza perked up and diverted his full attention to you.

“It started when I first blew up that guy’s store. I swear it was an accident that time, a cat snuck up on me and rubbed on me,” you shuddered, small hisses leaving your mouth. “The guy came out and picked me up by my shirt. He called us some names so I kinda got mad and blew up on purpose.”

“‘Us’?”

You nodded, “hybrids. He said that ‘our kind’ destroys everything.” You glared at the glass in your hands, hissing in contempt and watching the freckles dully glow green. “He called us ‘filthy mutts’ and freaks, Dad.” Philza looked slightly peeved at the name calling, “still, you shouldn’t’ve blown up on him. You could’ve killed him, (y/n).”

“So you’re saying that it’s okay for him to call us slurs? Should we just let people slander us?” You narrowed your eyes at him. He shook his head, his medium length blond hair swaying with the movement. “Hell no, I’m not saying that at all. You should never let someone call you things, but violence is never the answer.”

You huffed, crossing your arms, “frankly, he deserved what was coming to him. I just wish he didn’t throw me before I could blow up.”

“Hold on, he fucking threw you?” You nodded and watched his eyes darken and anger flash across his face, “violence is sometimes the answer then. Did he hurt you?”

“No, but I just felt so… so drained. But so overwhelmed at the same time. I’ve never exploded twice in the same day before.”

He hummed in realization, “so that’s why you slept through most of the day. Sorry, go on.”

“After Tommy woke me up everything just felt worse. It was like everything around me was amplified. It was hell, the last few days I was just hyper aware of everything and it was pissing me off. Every little thing drove me crazy, I could feel myself getting closer and closer to exploding but I held it back until I couldn’t anymore.”

“(Y/n), you know that’s not healthy… I talked to Sam, you remember right?” You shook your head, “well, he was an old friend of Wilbur’s. He used to come here all the time before he had to move away. He’s a creeper hybrid like you,” he chuckled when you perked up, “he gave me some advice on your anatomy when you were growing up. Anyways, he told me that sensory overload is common when you explode. He said that it’s normal to feel drained afterwards and to definitely get plenty of sleep. The sensory issues apparently get worse if your rest is interrupted, so that was probably why you felt overwhelmed in the past few days… He also told me that it really isn’t healthy to explode more than once a day or to hold it in for longer than necessary. Please just come to me if you’re feeling overwhelmed again or if you need to rest after exploding. I can even build you an obsidian building where you could go and not blow up anything.”

“...I’d like that. What- what else did he tell you?” Philza chuckled and started to tell you more about what Sam told him about his anatomy. He even gave you Sam’s comms contact so you could contact him if you had any questions or wanted some advice. He was a nice man when you talked to him, always having an answer for your questions. You even found old pictures of you as a baby following him around. Apparently you could tell that he was part creeper; wherever he was in the house, you were bound to be near him.

The rest of the day, you hung out with the rest of your family and the bench trio.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Techno wasn’t one for open affection, being the type to give you little trinkets and giving you suggestions on what to read next. Every time you woke up, you would find small objects ranging from gold to emeralds and books on your nightstand. He would vehemently deny being the one that gave you the items, but you and the rest of the family knew better. Sometimes, he would drop into your room to ask you what you thought of the book and have a thorough discussion about it with you while you were recovering.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You leaned against Wilbur’s side with his arm wrapped around you. The hand that was around you was rubbing circles into your shoulder. After he scolded you for bottling up your emotions, he climbed into your bed and pulled you to his side. Small hums left his throat.

“(Y/n)?” You hummed, your eyes half lidded and almost about to fall asleep. “Would you mind if I wrote a song about you? It would fit with the next album’s theme.”

“Knock yourself out.” Your words were slightly slurred as you nuzzled closer to him. He laughed a bit, the sound being muffled and reverberating his chest. “Get some sleep. I’ll brainstorm some ideas to run by you before you wake up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hanging out with the self proclaimed ‘bench trio’ was always fun, even if you were on strict orders to stay in bed by Dadza. Nobody argues with a concerned Dadza, but they found other ways to hang out with you. Tommy had moved his jukebox into your room and was playing cat, the music soothing you immensely and putting an end to your worries. However, what didn’t soothe you was the card game in front of you.

You were watching in horror as everybody put down a plus two card stacking the amount the victim would have to draw. So far, the plus two streak had already gone around the circle once and is now going around once more. It was nearing your turn and it was with great horror that you realized you didn’t have a color changing card or a plus two card. The two cards in your hand felt heavy as you watched Ranboo pull out another card.

“Please Ranboo, I’ll do anything. Don’t put that card down.” You watched as his ears twitched before he smiled innocently at you, putting the card down and laughing at you when you started the long process of drawing fourteen cards and sorting them.

“Sorry, my hand slipped.”

“Get fucked (y/n)!” Tommy cackled at you. You flipped him off before you went back to sorting the cards. Tubbo put down a plus four color changing card and smiled at Tommy.

“Sorry Tommy, but uno and the color is now red!”

“Goddamnit Tubbo! That’s the one color I don’t have,” he grumbled and drew four cards. Ranboo smiled triumphantly and put down his last card before showing you his empty hands. “What?! You didn’t even say uno!” You eyed his smug smile with disbelief.

“You guys didn’t call me on it though.”

“That’s not the rules, Ranboo! You have to say uno!” Tommy argued. Long story short, the rules had to be looked up and the family had to be consulted before your group came to the conclusion that you in fact do not have to call out uno and the other players could call them out on it. Eventually after a few tense games, the three were sitting on your bed. Ranboo had some difficulty with it due to his height, but he managed with his legs crossed.

“(Y/n) do you reckon you could become charged if you were hit by lightning?”

“Tubbo, you’re a genius,” Tommy breathed out, “let’s go see!”

“No, you will not go see. Sit back down.” Wilbur called out as he passed your room. The group slumped slightly. “We’ll see when I get better. Mark my words, the next thunderstorm that happens I will see if I can be charged.” You whispered to them, your eyes glinting with mischief.

“I don’t really think that’s a good idea.”

“Of course it is, Ranboo. It probably won’t kill them.”

“Probably?” Ranboo raised an eyebrow at Tommy’s nonchalant answer. “Yes, probably.”

“I still have three lives left. If I die, I die.” You wove a hand in the air as you spoke and watched as Tubbo nodded in agreement. “Do it for science, (y/n).”

“Oh I will. For science!” You raised your water glass in the air and Tommy and Tubbo followed suit with wide smiles. “For science!”

You three turned to stare at a deadpanning Ranboo. He sighed before he raised his glass of milk and let out a monotone “for science.” You, Tommy, and Tubbo cheered as you clanked your glasses together. You could see a hint of a fond smile on Ranboo’s face as he watched you three chug your waters before he downed his milk in one swallow.

You smirked at them and leaned close, talking lowly so that anyone passing by wouldn’t overhear you. “So, what’s our plan?”

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imagineslashers · 4 years

Text

First Words Soulmate AU

okay so i love this au, and i’m not sure if it’ve done it before, but i’m doing it now so enjoy! essentially, the first words you ever speak to your soulmate are imprinted on you somewhere and same for them, if you aren’t familiar with this au! x

WARNING for violence and death and swearing!

also sorry this is long yikes-

Jason

To be perfectly honest, you had lost all hope of ever meeting your soulmate, if going only by the words on your wrist - or rather, the lack of words. All you have imprinted on your skin is a dash, a wobbly line, and nothing else. From day one, you had merely accepted the fact that your soulmate was likely dead, or going to die, before you’d ever have the chance to meet them.

Your trip to an old camping ground was purely as an escape, to break away from all your friends who were happily in love and all met their soulmates. It was overwhelming, the joy they were suffocating your lonely self with, so you needed to get away.

Hiking through the cool afternoon air, your heart lays heavy in your chest, proving that even distance and ignorance can’t shield you from the pain. Anxiously, your fingers rub at your exposed wrist, and the crooked line across it. An owl hoots in the distant treetops, reminding you of your isolation.

You pause, taking a minute to breathe in deeply, stretching your sore muscles, and peering at the glimpse of the lake through the distant tree trunks. A slight sound distracts you, a brief snapping of a twig, and all the birds stop singing. A deer, perhaps? Your head turns slowly, taking in the surroundings. Even the insects seem to be holding their breath, the forest blanketed by a harsh silence.

The hairs stand up on the back of your neck and you exhale shakily, deciding to push on and try to reach a clearing where you may feel less trapped. It doesn’t help. The more steps you take, the more aware you become of the sensation, constantly looking over your shoulder.

When your nerves are entirely fried, the sudden flight of a startled crow sends you into a fully fledged panic, bolting through the trees. The quiet snapping of twigs becomes a heavy thudding, trembling the ground and you no longer waste time by looking back, powering through the forest.

There’s a looming shadow that falls over you and your voice escapes in a shriek, realising the inevitable. You’re not fast enough. The world spins as your shirt is grabbed, yanking you backwards and throwing you off your feet. Rolling across the dirt for a few seconds, you’re finally stopped staring up at the hulking masked figure. There’s a machete in his left hand, and a shred of your shirt in his right. He steps over you, feet either side of your hips and pulls back his arm.

You instinctively lift your hands to defend yourself, turning your head away and gasping for breath. “P-please!” You whimper, heart racing like a hummingbird. “Please don’t!”

He freezes, pulls back, and blinks at you from behind his mask. After a few painfully slow moments, he rotates his arm holding the machete, and you’re able to glimpse three words inscribed down his arm. They’re the words you spoke.

It all clicks and you realise he doesn’t, or can’t, speak. You shakily lift your wrist to show him your mark. He appears bewildered, stunned at the thought of having a real soulmate as much as you, then finally extends a wary hand. You take it.

Bubba

The road trip was a stupid idea, you said that from the start. However, you had been dragged along by your friends to celebrate a few milestones in your lives, and so succumbed to their pleading. Now, you sit rigidly in the back of their car, waiting anxiously. How long does it take to pay for fuel?

Your mind is racing, it’s been nearly half an hour and you haven’t heard anything. You elected to stay behind to keep an eye on the car while they went inside to get snacks, but that shouldn’t take too long, right?

A light flickers in the back of the old gas station, and with it the sound of a machine, perhaps a chainsaw or similar tool. You try to shrug it off. It’s a dilapidated country station, they’re probably fixing something or working at the back.

However, you can’t ignore the screaming, or the sudden bursting open of the door. Your friend’s boyfriend comes streaking out, face ashen, bolting past you. You lean out of the window, eyes wide, calling his name but he ignores you. A whoosh of air rushes past your head and an axe lands squarely in the back of his head. You scream, jerking yourself back into the car before kicking the door open and almost falling out.

You don’t have the keys, but running is obviously pointless. Instead, you bolt for the gas station, hoping to find a phone or a weapon or something! You don’t make it that far before the axe thrower steps out into the light, breathing heavily. He’s hard to make out, but you recognise the bloody apron and odd looking mask as immediately a threat, if you hadn’t already witnessed what he’d just done.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

Shocked by his appearance, you find your feet are sluggish and unresponsive. He notices you but doesn’t charge, instead making cautious steps towards you, dragging a large chainsaw. He mumbles something, just a string of sounds, as if trying to soothe you like an injured deer. It takes hearing more screaming for you to start stepping backwards quickly, unwilling to take your eyes off of him. Your back thuds into something solid and your hair is twisted into an iron grip, making you cry out.

“Got ‘em! Hurry up and finish it so we can go home already.” The man behind you reeks of blood and sweat, his accent almost masking his words. The one with the chainsaw makes a muffled noise of distress, closing the distance between you and shoves the one holding you backwards, releasing the grip on your hair.

“The hell, Bubba?” He growls, but the much taller male hisses, grabbing your arm and pulling you back with him. This captor, Bubba, starts desperately pulling up his pant leg, seemingly having forgotten where his mark is, but finally twists around to see the back of his calf. Your words in shaky handwriting are scrawled across his flesh.

Shocked, you pull down your shirt and try to inspect the nonsensical letters along your collarbone. Bubba makes a slight squeal, pulling you against his chest, delighted to finally have his soulmate! Still in shock, you allow him to lead you to their truck, your heart swelling but your head spinning. Oh well, not like you have much choice anyway!

Freddy

Bad dream would probably be an understatement, that’s what you think as you find yourself sprinting painfully slowly through a boiler room, steam burning your skin as you pass. Laughter rings out, bouncing off the walls and startling you. Bitterness creeps into your heart, a sour taste in your mouth as you try not to fall into the sick games you know are going to begin.

“Where are you, you prick?!” You yell, hands balled into fists, stomping your foot for effect. You’re terrified, naturally, but not going to die looking like a wimp or giving him the satisfaction. You know all about him from the teens in your neighbourhood.

Freddy comes bounding around a corner, looking expectantly gleeful and sadistic, his gloved hand dragging along the wall. His face breaks into a grin, but you recognise the flash of panic in his face, which confuses you all the more. Why would he be scared?

You step back, ready to throw yourself into a fight or flight, but he just looks at you dumbly, huffing, amusement fading. “What did you say?” Something clicks in his mind and he stalks towards you. “Say it again.”

You’re ready to tell him where he can shove his request when you understand the significance of his words. His first words to you.

“Oh, shit, no way!” Your words leave you a breathless rush and it makes him laugh. He’s so badly burnt that your words have been essentially destroyed from his wrist, but he’d never forget what they said. You carefully roll up your shorts and expose the slanted writing wrapped around your thigh. Freddy looks a little stunned, and annoyed, but he finally sighs dramatically in defeat.

“Okay, guess you’re mine then, baby!” He resigns himself to it like a child having to do chores, grabbing your hand in his exposed one, pulling you with him.

Michael

Halloween is arguably one of the best holidays, but you don’t agree with that statement anymore as you’re creeping through the dark streets, trying not to be noticed. The news headlines were that the killer was on a streak, getting more creative with every victim, and you’re determined not to be the next one.

Unfortunately, you live in his neighbourhood, so you didn’t have any options when the television at your work lit up with a warning to stay home. And your car broke down, so you’re now stuck walking home, jumping at the sound of every meow and car horn. Pulling your coat tighter around your frame, you hurry down the street, passing under a streetlamp which illuminates your white knuckles wrapped tightly around your bag.

There’s a siren in the distance and that assures you, just a little, that perhaps the killer is being brought down right now. With that in mind, you let out a breath which escapes you in a puff of smoke in the cold air. Clinging tightly to your reassurances, you speed up a little, having reached your street. Relief washes through you, as well as embarrassment at how terrified you’d been.

You chuckle to yourself, rounding the corner to your house when you see him. A huge black shadow, stepping out from the neighbouring house, his knife stained crimson. You both stand in silence, staring at one another, before you decide to try your luck at running.

You turn around and sprint the way you’d come, biting your lip so hard it draws blood. Your breath comes in short puffs as your body is pushed beyond the limits. He may have the advantage of being quicker, but you know this area. Ducking down an alleyway, you launch yourself onto a wooden fence, scrambling to get over. You’re just about to when a cold hand wraps around your ankle and yanks you back down.

The force of it knocks the wind from your lungs as you lay on your back, gasping. The stranger crouches over you, pressing the tip of his blade to the hollow of your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut. “Just do it!” You manage to force out.

The blade pulls away and you risk peeking one eye open to see the white mask. Your killer is shocked, looking almost like a stone figure, unable to move or breathe. He never wanted a soulmate, didn’t believe in it, but now you’re laying under him and he can’t kill you.

Angrily, he slams his fist into the concrete by your head and you flinch, eyes wide open now as he stares back at you. There’s a quiet word he mutters, just loud enough for you to catch it. “Fuck.”

You barely have time to question him, recognising that one word from the one that’s imprinted on your shoulder blade, before he’s hauling you up and carrying you off bridal style, one hand still tightly clutching his knife.

Beetlejuice

The motel room is kinda dingy- well, it’s very dingy if you’re honest, but you’re so exhausted you can’t bring yourself to do more than collapse on the bed. You’d been travelling for a few days on your way to a new town to start up your new career, passing through this idyllic little town. It’s cute, very homey, but the motel is pretty old.

Whatever, you just need to sleep. Rolling onto your stomach, you pull out your phone and check your messages. The television starts playing. Sitting up, you strain your ears but hear only some corny romance film. Rolling your eyes, you decide that you’re leaving as soon as the sun rises, but begrudgingly force yourself to walk into the living area to turn off the television.

Once you do, you put the remote on the coffee table, making sure it can’t fall or turn itself on again. Turning around, you start walking back to the bed when it turns on, louder this time. Your brows furrow in annoyance as you return and turn it off, smacking the side of the set for good measure.

After staring at the black screen for a few seconds, you decide it’s done being irritating and once again try to walk back to bed. You’ve just collapsed on your side when it turns on again.

Gritting your teeth, you rub your eyes and contemplate how much effort it would be to walk back to reception to ask for a new room. You’ve just decided on getting up when you feel the bed dip behind you, fingertips tracing your arm. Your heart nearly bursts in terror.

“You don’t like this movie?” The words come out dripping in sarcasm and amusement from the stranger behind you. Immediately, your body reacts defensively and you leap from the bed, whirling around to punch the intruder. He yelps in surprise, hand over his nose.

“You asshole! Get out of my room!” You yell, barely able to contain your emotions, completely glazing over the realisation that those words are on your lower back. However, the intruder does notice and sits up excitably, eyeing you like a prize. You’re not sure where to look first, the green hair or the dirty striped suit.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to find you in a motel room, but hey, can’t complain!” He grins, his expression resembling that of a wolf. He pops the buttons on his shirt and you’re stuck standing in confusion as you read back the words you just yelled at him, imprinted on his collar.

“No.” You point at him, then the door. “Not happening. Go away and come back at a decent hour.” He laughs, but then realises you’re serious, whining as he pulls himself from the bed.

“You’re mean. I like it. See you in the morning!” He disappears in a hazy cloud of purple smoke, leaving you coughing and wondering if you hallucinated.

Billy & Stu

School sucks. Not only because of the obvious; preppy kids, bullies, annoying teachers, homework. No, you’re annoyed because everyone is falling madly in love with their soulmates, throwing it in your face. You’re a freak to most, because you don’t have your soulmate mark. You have two.

Wearing long sleeves is how you conceal it, but everyone knows you’re different, the rumours started as soon as you walked in the door. Irritable, you resign yourself to having to deal with not only the first day at a new shitty school, but also being the object of much taunting on said first day.

You manage to sail through most of your classes by ignoring everyone else, but by lunch time, you can’t avoid it. Your feet carry you to an empty table where you hope to just have a quiet meal. That, of course, can never happen for you.

Two rather imposing looking teens slink over to you, and you recognise them as the school’s bad boys, popular kids if a little weird, Billy and Stu. You look down and continue picking at a sandwich, hoping that if you pretend they don’t exist, they’ll do the same for you and move onto someone else.

Once again, that doesn’t happen for you. “Hello, gorgeous.” Billy sits in the seat next to you and Stu sidles up on the opposite one, both of them grinning. “Why are you sat alone, baby?” Stu purrs. You’ve had enough of being taunted today and you stand up, causing your chair to scream in protest against the tacky floors.

“Can everyone just leave me the hell alone?” You scowl, grabbing your bag and missing the look that the boys exchange in surprise. Billy nods, and Stu grabs your arm.

“Hey!” You try to pull it back, but Billy takes your other one and they both pull up your sleeves. Sure enough, the words they just greeted you with are on your arms, one of each. Your cheeks burn with humiliation, and relief, at finding your soulmates.

Stu lets go first, practically bouncing on the spot as he lifts his shirt to show you what you said written angrily across his ribs. Billy’s next, he has the same words but wrapped around his ankle.

You’re in a state of shock when they coax you back into your seat, one hanging one each of your arms. There’s no way you’re getting away now, especially not with the way they’re looking at you like you’re their favourite toy.

The Man

The night was finally quietening down when you decided to sit on the porch for a bit, a hot drink cupped in your hands, listening to the crickets.

Your decision to live in a wooded area is probably one of the best you’ve made, or at least that’s what you believe as you enjoy the blissful peace of your surroundings. Blowing on your drink, you almost don’t notice the figure in the corner of your eye.

Expecting one of the neighbours checking in about something, you aren’t immediately alarmed, sitting up a bit straighter to try and make them out in the shadows. The stranger doesn’t speak, so neither do you, but the longer you both stare at one another, the worse the feeling in your gut becomes. Something isn’t quite right.

You’ve just decided to go back inside when he starts approaching. Coming nearer to your porch lights, you can finally see that he’s wearing a mask, and across his back he’s carrying a crossbow. Adrenaline shoots into your veins and you leap up, your mug smashing. The display of alertness doesn’t concern him, he continues approaching at a leisurely pace, dragging his hand across the side of your car as he comes up the driveway.

You walk backwards to the front door, making sure you can keep him in your sights at all times, your hand fumbling for the handle. He waves at you, and you sense he’s smiling under his mask, judging by the delighted, predatorial glint in his eyes. You simply scowl in response, attempting to hide the way your body trembles as you finally get the door open and jump backwards, slamming it shut.

He leaps up the porch steps and stands outside the door, his shadow spilling in from under the door. You step back, holding your breath. The shadow retreats with the sound of boots, leaving you frozen to the spot listening for him.

The silence becomes so painful that when he finally does make a noise, it startles you. Tracking it down, you find him stood outside your kitchen by the large window, head tilted as he peers inside at you, still jovial and content to be terrifying you.

Unwilling to show him your fear any further, you point at the alarm system, indicating you can set it off to alert authorities. Yelling to be heard through the glass, your words get his attention easily.

“You better leave, or I’m going to make sure they haul your sorry ass to prison!”

He steps back, much to your surprise, and then lifts his mask. You’re taken aback by his face - attractive - and don’t notice him pulling up his hoodie. There in cursive along his hip is your handwriting, and the threat you just gave him. His face breaks out into a grin as he jumps back to his position right up against the glass.

“Show me yours!” His voice is elevated by his delight and you step away, warily lifting your arm to reveal his demand written along your outer forearm. Like a kid given candy, he knocks excitably against the glass. “Let me in! You’re so mine!”

The Blissfield Butcher

What a shitty day. You missed the bus trying to get home from work, and then it started raining. By the time you’d made it to the next operating bus stop, your clothes had been successfully drenched, leaving you shivering under the meagre shelter provided.

Cursing your boss for lecturing you and in turn making you late to leave, you hug your arms around yourself. A ping goes off from your pocket, then another, and another, until you give up on trying to warm yourself and fish around in your pockets to find the source. Your phone lights up your face in the darkness. An amber alert prompts all residents to stay home if they can, following a string of murders.

You exhale sharply, trying to centre your thoughts on anything other than the anxiety creeping into the back of your mind. Your gaze lifts from the screen and is immediately drawn to a passing shadow, which halts the second you look at it. Unsure if you’re seeing things, you put your phone away and squint through the rain, attempting to distinguish whether it’s someone you know.

Likely just a passer-by, you resume huddling under the shelter. The shadow moves away, and your anxiety with it. However, you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. After a few minutes, the shadow reappears and you realise it’s circling you from a distance. The reality sets in and you curse, chancing up your options. Glancing over your shoulder, you can see your workplace still lit up a few blocks down. You could run there, but you’re not sure how fast the figure is.

When you tear your eyes away from your distant workplace, you realise that looking away had been a mistake, the shadow significantly closer and now more obviously a male. A very tall male, in a mask. You curse under your breath and decide to risk it, your aching legs once again forced into action. The bitterly cold rain makes running harder, and it’s worse trying to see where you’re going as it starts to come down heavier, masking the sounds of your stalker.

You shoot a quick look over your shoulder, your heart jumping at how close he is, within reaching distance. Your mind makes a quick decision and you jerk to the side so his grab misses you, whilst you run down another street onto a local sports field, now dark and silent.

The wet grass clings to your feet, slowing you down, but you don’t have time to reflect on this mistake because your shoved from behind. The force of your momentum and the power behind the shove sends you skidding on your front, grazing your cheek.

He’s on you before you can blink, pushing you onto your back, straddling your hips. His eyes are wild behind the mask as he uses one hand to keep your shoulder down, the other gripping a butcher’s knife. Your efforts at squirming are denied by his sheer weight and the force of his thighs trapping your lower half. Seeing no other option, you start to panic and gasp, the rain still soaking you both.

“Wait, please, don’t!” Your tears mix into the rain as your hands desperately push against him, one accidentally knocking his mask off. He’s distracted by this and you continue, your hands instead lowering to protect your face. “I know a lot of cops, I-I-” the excuse tumbles from your mouth, but cuts off when you notice the black writing on his neck. “Oh.” Your voice is reduced to a whimper, reading back what you’ve said to him.

He sighs, stabbing the grass and sitting back, looking at you expectantly. “Um, are you not going to kill me?” You curse the way your words shake as you look up at him. The ghost of a smile touches his lips and he grips your wrist, pulling you up. He doesn’t stop there, throwing you over his shoulder and stooping to pick up his knife. “I’m not gonna kill what’s mine.” He growls the words, sending a chill through you as those familiar words are etched onto your arm.

#soulmate au #slasher imagines #jason voorhees x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #freddy krueger x reader #michael myers x reader #hush 2016 #the man x reader #blissfield butcher x reader #billy x stu x reader #beetlejuice x reader #reader inserts

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expectingtofly · 3 years

Text

finally free, they drive

day 1 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: diners/roadtrip

Twenty-four years ago in Mankato, Minnesota, Dean killed a wendigo with a bottle of Jack and a lighter. He told Cas this, how the flames lit the inside of the cave and his dad had to drag him out because he suddenly couldn’t move, how he stayed silent for a week even though his dad begged him to speak.

Seventeen years ago, in Monte Vista, Colorado, Dean burned the bones of a malevolent spirit that sliced a gash through his chest before he could swing an iron crowbar through her foggy figure. As he and Cas passed by the cemetery where he and his dad had dug up her remains, he could almost picture himself standing between the tombstones, his dad tossing him the lighter. Do the honors.

In Evanston, Wyoming, he and Cas stopped to eat at a diner that looked vaguely familiar. As they sat down at a booth in the back, waitress handing them their menus, it hit him.

“Pretty sure Sam and I went through here before.” He couldn’t remember what they'd been hunting. “Years ago. After dad. You know. Passed.”

And Cas was silent a moment before replying, "I wish I’d known you then."

Then he declared he wanted the French onion soup from the specials of the day, like he hadn’t just spoken Dean's thoughts aloud in his uncanny way of knowing exactly what Dean wished for before Dean knew it himself.

Sometimes, while passing semi-trailer trucks on the freeway, when the setting sun glinted off the metal partition between west and east-headed traffic, he wondered what life would’ve been like if he knew Cas when he was twenty-six. When he was so lonely, his chest felt like a vise at night, and he slipped out of mildewed motel rooms to gasp in chilly night air. When he sought out crowded bars because accidental nudges and jostles were substitutes for caresses.

What might’ve changed if he'd known Cas when he was twenty-two, when Sam left for college and Dad left with a cutting, Don't look for me. If, confronted with an angel then, he would’ve been able to believe in good things, if he would've kissed him to not feel so alone.

The radio played Dolly Parton at a diner in Des Moines, a young couple sat at the counter, Cas stacked small containers of strawberry jelly and orange marmalade into a tower, and Dean imagined sitting across from him when he was nineteen. But then Cas looked up at him triumphantly over perfectly balanced preserves, and the what-if's dissolved in a growing warmth in his chest. Cas had been right after all. Good things did happen.

They drove without a destination now that they didn’t need one, changing course frequently, turning off exits to follow signs for roadside attractions, homestyle meals, and scenic overlooks.

Prairie and forest, coast and desert. He'd traveled these roads before, but he was paying attention now. Everything looked different with Cas sitting by his side, when every glance to his right revealed Cas already looking at him.

Re-heated diner leftovers and slices of pie for breakfast, crumbs on the bed, brown bags in the backseat, lunch breaks at rest stops, sitting on the hood to unwrap grease-stained burger wrappers, kept warm from the sun coming through the car’s windows.

Baby had been his home for years. He'd learned her nooks, her curves, how best to settle on the benchseat and tuck his jacket against the door to wake without a crick in his neck.

Moving into the bunker, he'd claimed a room, made a space for every item he owned: a hook for every weapon, a box for every photo, a hanger for every jacket. The concrete walls and sterile bathrooms meant order, control.

He used to be afraid that if he let one item fall out of place, he'd lose his grip on the delicate thread which held him together.

Crackling radio in Omaha, searching for a station. Cassette-tapes pulled out of a box that he hadn’t rifled through since a time when angels were still a myth, god didn’t exist, and death was always close, but not someone they knew by name. Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica. Then, out of Cas' pocket, his own “Top 13 Zepp Traxxs,” which he was surprised to learn Cas still kept, the words on the label faded.

“It was a gift,” Cas said, tucking the cassette into the deck and turning up the volume.

Busy diners where their food took ages to come to their table and Dean doodled on napkins to pass the time. Stuffed them into his pocket and forgot until he pulled them out while looking for change to pay for gas. A tiny Impala, a sun with dashes for rays, sigils, tiny flowers which Cas had added to the corners.

An argument on I-70 and sixty-two miles of tense silence. "If you don't speak to me, I can't understand," Cas said, voice quiet under the whir of tires on the road.

Dean changed lanes, watched a tarp flap over the bed of a pick-up truck. "I don't know how," he admitted.

Cas let out a breath that sounded like relief. "We'll learn."

He learned Cas liked brightly colored shirts labeled with the names of locations they visited, oversized because tight sleeves made him itch. He learned that the strangely named items on diner menus had backstories that owners behind counters were all too eager to share when Cas prompted them. He learned Cas hovered in doorways as if he was waiting to be invited inside, learned Cas knew every upbeat song playing over the radio in gas stations, had nightmares too, could stay silent for seventy miles then speak a thought aloud that left Dean stunned for seventy more.

He taught Cas how to pass the time on roads that stretched to the horizon. Name a movie for every letter of the alphabet. Name three items you'd take to a deserted island. Name everyone we've lost along the way—he didn't mean to begin talking about them, but they seemed closer than ever before on the open road, under a vast, cloudless sky. The wind whisked their names from their mouths, and Dean liked the idea of them still existing, here, around them.

A map open on his lap, Cas circled every town they stopped at, traced their route with a red pen. Folded and unfolded the page until the creases made the snaking lines nearly illegible. "I want to remember," he told Dean, and Dean traced the creases to feel their route under his finger. The steering wheel was warm under his palms, the diner floors sticky under his boots, the motel sheets stiff when he pulled them back from the headboard, and he told Cas, "Pinch me," in the dark of an eighty-dollar-a-night room. Cas touched his face and kissed him instead.

The rocky coast off of Oregon delighted Cas. He rolled up his pant legs, clutched Dean's hand as they walked unsteadily over the slippery rocks to step into the Pacific Ocean. The wind whipped his hair over his face and he pushed back the strands, grinning back at Dean. Sometimes at night, when Cas slept curled into him, Dean looked at the photo he'd taken of him and wished he had a place of their own to frame it.

Long phone calls to family and friends who told them to take their time, do not disturb signs hung on motel doorknobs, winding backroads and detours. He grew out his hair and told Cas he needed a cut. Cas twisted his fingers through the strands, and mused, "I like it." Dean kept it and noticed the strands curled at the ends.

A sign on the highway in Ohio read, "Hell is Real." He still had nightmares. As cornfields passed, Cas recounted seeing his soul for the first time, and sometimes Dean imagined he remembered the safety of Cas' wings as he pulled him out of the depths of Hades.

Cas got sick in Idaho, complained, voice echoing in the toilet bowl, "I told you that diner was not sanitary." Dean rubbed his back and told him he'd write a scathing review. In West Virginia, over a pile of spilled salt and stale fries that were probably nuked behind the counter, Cas told him he loved him. It wasn't for the first time, but his breath still caught in his throat.

They ate fried okra in Oklahoma City, beignets in New Orleans, and Dean requested Earth Angel on a jukebox in a vinyl and chrome diner in Wisconsin. Slid into the booth to press against Cas' side and watch him fill out postcards. Did you know dinosaurs once roamed where the Rockies now stand? Don't know when we'll be back. We bought new cassettes to add to the collection and I convinced Dean to let me choose the music. Still so much we haven't seen.

The magic fingers bed at the King's Court Motel cost four quarters for fifteen minutes—three more than when he was younger, he griped to Cas. The vibrating massage didn't seem quite as relaxing as he remembered, but maybe he was just used to more magical fingers—this he accompanied with an exaggerated wink which made Cas roll his eyes.

The Impala broke down on Route 66, and the asphalt radiated heat as he ducked under the hood. Cas hovered at his side and he realized he didn't have the tools to fix her.

They ate lunch at a mom-and-pop’s restaurant as they waited for the mechanic to finish, and Cas gave him the pickle from his sandwich. "I'm sorry I never asked you to stay," Dean told him and wished he'd said it earlier. "I never wanted you to leave."

Cas gave him a sad smile. "It's in the past." He tapped his foot against Dean's under the table, and Dean hooked his ankle with his foot.

Cas parted the curtains in every motel they slept in, tilted his face to the sun beaming through the windshield, urged Dean to stop for a cardboard sign reading Fresh Strawberries $2. Reruns of The Three Stooges made Dean laugh until he wiped tears from the corners of his eyes, had to catch his breath. This happiness didn't seem so fragile, this time. When they turned on the TV tomorrow night three hundred miles away, The Three Stooges would play into the morning, and when he told Cas he loved him, Cas would say it back.

Crossing over rippling water or curving through wooded land, he and Cas spoke a cabin in the woods, a house on the coast, a home. Dean's head filled with the future instead of the past. Every mile that passed under their tires brought them closer to this dream—or so he thought, until he stopped at a red light, and Cas took his hand, and he realized home sat beside him now.

In a diner in Arkansas, Cas read from a menu, plastic corners curling, and commented, "No matter where we go, every place serves an iceberg wedge salad."

Dean replied, "I think I'm ready to stop driving."

He didn't know where they'd park the Impala for good, but he pictured somewhere with windows, patches of sunlight on the floor. The details didn't matter so much, though, not so long as he had Cas.

"For you to me are the only one," he sang over Robert Plant, glancing at Cas as he turned up the radio, wind whistling through the open windows, road humming under their feet. Happiness, no more be sad, happiness, I'm glad.

#j&kcreatorfest #rambleoncas #shelikestv #user-brooke #userdori #userstarry #tearsofgrace #destiel fic #just some fluff #bc i love the idea of dean and cas taking a long roadtrip after s15 #to bond and work thru stuff #<3 #established dean/cas #expectingtofly writes

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munsnz · 3 years

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TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯. — 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞? Overview: Y/N tells Mike information to help their lost friend, she also heads to the search party for Will with Victor. As they explore, the past unravels and there is an odd occurrence that happens. Navigation & Mixtape

Tag: @samiyamuntaha @thepowerstoner @ughgclden @mqyfield @cooperdaysgf

“So right by Mirkwood right?” Mike Wheeler’s voice peeped after listening to Y/N’s remark of details about what she heard at the Hawkins Police Department a few hours ago. It was around 7 pm, right around to where the girl was getting ready prone to the search party being held with a few of the residents of the town.

Y/N hummed a positive response to clearing out his doubts just in case he was confused by any means, this wasn’t going to help Mike, it was going to help Will get a faster chance to be retrieved to his home again.

Although Hopper disapproved the request of letting young people in the search, Y/N and Victor were eventually allowed to come along, “Yeah, but remember you have to be somewhat far from the real search group okay? We don’t want you to get caught.”

”Mike! What are you doing?” Nancy’s faint voice was caught on the other line of the phone, leading Mike to leave the phone out, Y/N overhearing them argue over the dumbest things.

Prior to the noises of Mike pushing Nancy out of the basement she guessed, the boy came back on the line, sighing loudly, “Sorry about that, Nancy gets so annoying, I still don’t know why you still hang out with her.”

”She could be a priss sometimes,” She responds, breathily giggling, clenching the ceramic telephone tighter, “But she’s still my friend if you could say.”

Continuing with their conversation based on the plan, it was perfectly assembled, safe with a high possibility of finding Will, even if it had been a day. Will couldn’t have gone far anyways. Y/N was about to speak, but was suddenly caught off guard as soon as she heard her dad in the hallway, getting prepared for the search.

”Oh shit! I have to go now,” Y/N hushed in a subtle tone, trying her best to keep away Hopper from listening to their discussion, “Remember to be home by 9 at least with flashlights. Stay safe Mike.”

The line went awfully silent, placing back the phone to its regular position on the handset, while it being attached to the wall. Rapidly, spinning to look at her father, trying to act as normal as possible, his brows furrowed at her.

”What were you doing?”

Shrugging it off calmly, Y/N breathily giggles while she put her hands on her hips saying, “I was just checking in with Victor, that’s all.”

Hopper’s eyes widened at her point, clicking his tongue as he started grabbing on his sweater for the frosty night ahead, “Funny, but I just called his mom to let him know that he was coming.”

”Right..” Y/N casually crossed her arms, cursing under her breath before she showed any subtle reaction to what she was up to. Play it cool.

In the silence of her looking around the messy home by the front door, Hopper sharply whistles while slinging the car keys in the air to catch them, making Y/N follow right behind me, pretending as if the few minutes didn’t occur. Feeling the breeze of the autumn air, both the relatives made their way to the vehicle, on their way to the small yet important search for this boy, Will Byers.

As the road got narrower and narrower, the car drove deeper into the dark woods, where Y/N could see the slender trees and branches surrounding them. The starry sky lit up the place with a soft tone of dim blues and grays painted across it on the chilly night. Watching out the window, Y/N squinted her eyes to see a figure from afar waving towards the vehicle, a familiar figure to be Victor. Hopper drove nearer, the headlights being able to guide him to the stop where a small crowd of people were surrounding along with the patrols.

Hopper cleared his throat, while he pushed the breaks down and turned to his daughter, “Hey kid, remember don’t be-“

Without hesitation, Y/N swung the car door open to step out of it, hustled her way to her so called “acquaintance”, Victor. It was more like a friend but she didn’t want to be that close with the boy. Victor wearily smiling at her.

“You seem tired,” Y/N creeps up next to him, watching the small groups of people around the mounds of dead leaves and twigs gathered for the search.

Victor’s voice brings the girl’s attention back to him, he clears his throat, “I mean dealing with Flo is already a lot for me to handle, so I suppose I am.” The two silently chuckled, the frost getting to their noses, “I heard there’s gonna be a chance of rain.”

”Really?”

“Yes really! Haven’t you seen the forecast? I’m even wearing a jacket!” Victor squinted his eyes, his eyewear raising up on the bridge of his nose and the girl shrugged aimlessly.

Y/N scoffed, shoving him slightly, “I think there’s way more important things we need to focus on instead of the weather.”

From afar, Hopper and the policemen indicated all the volunteers to gather around on the sidewalk, near the entrance of the forest. The flashing blue and red lights were turned off from the cars, everyone else preparing for the upcoming search.

”Okay guys!” The chief shouted to direct everyone, “We need to stay in the 5 mile radius from where Will was last scene! Everyone please be careful and remember to blow the whistle if you find anything at all!”

Heads were nodded, agreeing to the directions, Officers Powell and Callahan guided two separate groups from different directions, Y/N having to come along with the third group including her dad. Although the girl was 16, her father wanted to take the best care for her, after Sarah. He wanted to keep her as close as possible, but he knew she was getting older. It was just for today, he can protect her for today, now being aware of a kid disappearing in their town. Maybe one of them was next.

“I guess that’s your call genius,” Y/N told Victor as she pointed towards Powell’s group who were walking to the right side of the woods, the people disappearing one by one into the darkness.

Not budging at all, Victor stood his ground saying, “I think I’ll stick with you for now, there’s just soccer moms hoarding the group for Powell, he has a fan club.”

“You’re not wrong Vic,” She sniggered quietly but failed miserably, letting out a subtle loud laugh, both of the teenagers walking behind their group, down a steep hill leading to the inner nature.

Rushing down first to the bottom, the tall brunette reached his hand out for Y/N who was still at the top, to help her come down to his level, “M’lady?”

”Why thank you, what a gentleman!” Y/N sarcastically gasps, gripping onto his hand to steady herself below, after they jogged closer to the group, flicking their flashlights on to carry on.

Everyone glanced above the branches, the moon shining as the crickets chirped. The crisp wind running across their faces, making the trees shuffle loudly. As flashlights led them with its brightness, they all searched and searched, for any trace of the boy around the area.

Half an hour later, the air became cooler than usual, almost bringing a frostbite to their bare hands. The sound of branches and dead leaves crunching over the few people above them. In the silence, Y/N stayed near Victor and her father, hearing shouts for Will. The realization hit the girl, they were looking for lost Will, Will hasn’t appeared, he was probably in some sort of danger. She fastened her grip on the flashlight, looking around more closely, along with the rest.

”He’s a good student,” Someone decides to break the silence of the leaves and twigs crunching under their feet, Victor and Y/N turned their attention to him as they strolled in the woods.

Hopper cocks an eyebrow up and looks towards the teacher’s direction after the statement, “What?”

”Will. He’s a good student. Great one actually,” He elaborates, smiling sheepishly to lend his hand in front of the chief to introduce himself, “I don’t think we’ve met, Scott Clarke. Teacher, Hawkins Middle. Earth and biology.”

“Don’t you remember he was my teacher back in the day?”

Victor nods agreeing with Y/N’s statement from behind, Hopper reluctantly trying to remember his daughter’s middle school teacher, still not recalling since in those past years where fighting for Y/N’s custody between the parents, “I always had a distaste for science.”

”Well maybe you had a bad teacher,” Mr. Clarke remarks, checking if his flashlight was still operating, trudging closer to the group of three ahead of him.

”Yeah, Ms. Ratliff was a piece of work,” Hopper scoffs jokingly, Y/N doing the same as well, remembering his shitty science teacher from his past years while he studied at Hawkins High.

”Ratliff?” The teacher ponders, realizing that the same teacher still resides in Hawkins after all these years, “You bet. She’s still kicking around believe it or not.”

Victor elaborates in between them, sliding his hands onto his pockets, “I had her when I was in eighth grade a few years back.”

”Oh I believe it Victor. Mummies never die, so they tell me,” Hopper smiles, trying to get his daughter to notice but she dozed off beyond the sight of the woods, ”Sarah, my youngest, galaxies, the universe whatnot.. She always understood all that stuff. I always figured there was enough going down here, I never needed to look elsewhere.”

Y/N flickered her eyes towards her father’s direction after hearing the special name, it wasn’t so special to one, but to her, it was. Sarah, Sarah Hopper her little sister, but soon enough the teacher interrupted, “Maybe I’ll get her in my class I-“

“No, she uh.. she lives with her mom in the city,” He cuts the man off from his statement, Victor widening his eyes on Y/N’s side, knowing fully that wasn’t true.

The girl beside the tall boy looked back at his dark eyes, signaling him to be quiet, Y/N was aware of the fact that everyone in Hawkins knew Sarah’s death. Just because of her own blabbermouth, Steve told everyone including the parents her little secret the young female confessed to.

As much as her dad still wants to deny the fact the little one was gone and resting in peace, staying of his delusion Y/N wished she could have. It was a promise. A promise that everything was okay and there wasn’t nothing to worry about, almost some sort of fairy tale where everything had its happy endings with a happy family which wasn’t it.

“Thanks for coming out, Teach. We really appreciate it.” Hopper clears the air, trudging past them farther into the dark eerie woods, Y/N and Victor repeating his steps behind him.

Once they were out of the picture and range from hearing, a middle aged woman spoke up next to the teacher, in a hushed tone saying, “She died a few years back.”

”Sorry?” Mr. Clarke shifted his head in bewilderment towards the lady for any clarification from the inadequate statement given.

”His kid.”

The teacher’s eyes widened, observing the two family members mumbling inaudible words behind the brisk trees of the cool night. He didn’t know the Hoppers hid their family, they never talked much about family when it came to projects when Y/N was younger. It seemed like something ever so private not like where many kids shared experiences with their loved ones, they always kept everything about their family closed up. Almost a mystery.

Y/N could hear the soft mumbles of the quiet conversation being exchanged by the lady and her former teacher, she felt sick knowing that her father stays in the delusion of her sister being alive, lying. Lying wasn’t so hard for her, Y/N was almost a professional at it when it came to helping the party in situations. But lying to her dad was different, it was the both of them against the horrid place called the world.

“Is Sarah going to be back?” A small girl walked over to the grown adults who stood at the front door, puffy eyes showing on their faces, as they held a plastic wristband and stuffed tiger after a long day from not seeing her sister. It was already near midnight.

Without any move, the woman, who to be seen was the girl’s mother, bursted into tears, her husband catching her into his arms. The youngling worriedly watched her parents shed tears, a middle aged woman got up from the couch to comfort both of them. Whispers and mumbles being shared between the adults, bringing more tears.

”Mommy?” The girl steadily crept next to her mom’s leg, wrapping her short arms around her waist, pressing her cheek against the woman’s body, “Don’t cry, I’m here.”

Sobs were still heard from the mother, the two of the women held each other tightly while the tall man let go from their hug, kneeling next to the girl’s level, “Y/N, kid-“

”Dad, where’s Sarah?!” Y/N shakily shouted, her stomach feeling uneasy, with her sister not being found. What happened to Sarah? She knew Sarah was going to get better. Why was mom crying? So many questions filled her head, eyes welling up, her father hugging her tightly with all the hurt and love. Y/N noticed the wristband that her father was holding, she peered closely to see a sloppy handwriting shown as the name Sarah, written all over it with the date when she was sent to the hospital.

”Sarah is... gone.”

The little’s watery eyes widened, her bottom lip trembling, she threw her arms around her father, her head leaning onto his shoulder. Her little sister was gone, she was alone now, her heart crumbling into a million pieces. Sarah, Sarah wasn’t here anymore. But it seemed so surreal, it was only yesterday the two sisters laughed about one of the nurses dropping her cup of coffee while getting chemotherapy.

“Dad.. Can she come back?”

Sadly grinning, Hopper wiped the girl’s chubby face from her tears, shaking his head, “I’m sorry kid, she’s not coming back.”

”But she has to! Sarah has to come home with us,” Y/N choked in her tears, her eyes becoming swollen, grabbing the wristband from her father’s large hand, “Sarah can’t leave me alone here. She promised she would stay.”

”Y/N, I know this is difficult but your sister left us. She’s in a better place now.”

Making her cry even more, Y/N’s mother rapidly kneeled next to her husband and daughter, she sniffed, grabbing onto her daughter, “We promised Sarah we would love each other and always stay safe. Forever.”

”Promise?”

Both of the girl’s parents joined in for a tight hug, Y/N fastening her arms around the two others, “Promise. We promise you sweet pea.”

”Y/N! Y/N!” A familiar voice boasted in the ears of Y/N, she focused her attention back to the voice. There was no one beside her by the time she looked around, it was the sounds of the wind and her alone. Her flashlight flickered in her hands, she shook it vigorously to try and turn it back on, but there was nothing coming out of it, just a dimly lit tone guiding her way. Nothing else in her sight except for the trees and moonlight, she tried her best to not overthink this and make her way back to the group.

Every turn she made in the paths, it led her to nowhere, noises filled the aura. Slowly, she began to worry, she wasn’t coming back to the group. Y/N’s head filled itself with thoughts, there was no way she could be lost, last time she was with Victor, rambling about the weather. Where was she? Looking up, she felt small droplets of water dripped onto her face above, Y/N squinted her eyes to avoid the drizzle. The water fell down slowly until it started raining heavier in the air, she wiped her face to dry it off and continue to try to find her way back.

“Dad!” Y/N shouted, wrapping her arms over herself, her hair becoming soaked along the time. She kept shouting and shouting, worry filling her in. The girl was afraid. What if she went missing like Will? Oh no.

Without a precaution, a branch from behind was heard. Y/N whipped her head to the direction, seeing a small human with a white gown rapidly run off to opposite direction, the rain blurring her eyes. Was that Will? Curious, she picked up speed to follow the boy, it may be Will. A chance of relief rushing in as her adrenaline sped up, almost running faster. “Will! It’s me!”

The boy didn’t stop, sprinting faster with his bare feet. Y/N still yelled, slowing her pace down, then picking it back up, going through the trees. An idea came to her, tugging at her metal whistle to her lips, blowing on it. The sound coming off it, maybe attracting people to find her and the boy, it has to be Will. Using her arms to run faster, she suddenly trips over a thick log after not seeing below her because of the wind, sending her to the floor. She whimpers as she felt her ankle burn in a pain, whistling even more.

From the distance, few people to what she could tell came forward to her, rain soaking over her head. Thunder being heard far away, Victor came into the picture to kneel down next to Y/N.

”Hey are you okay?” He worriedly checks on her, receiving a nod. Victor looked around for any possible wounds since he found her on the ground, “We couldn’t find you!”

Y/N hardly paid attention to him and looked afar to see if the boy would turn up again. She held Victor’s jacket to pull him closer, “I think I saw Will! He was running through there I-“

”Chief Hopper coming through, excuse me,” A voice from the crowd of people called in, Hopper bringing himself forward to find his soaking daughter on the ground pointing toward another direction. “What’s wrong?”

Victor moves to tell Hopper while being next to shaking and wet Y/N, “She saw Will.”

#Steve Harrington #steve Harrington x reader #steve Harrington fanfic #steve harrington series #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington x Hopper reader #Stranger things #stranger things x reader #Stranger things Fanfiction #Steve Harrington angst #Steve Harrington fluff #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington fanfic navigation #Steve Harrington x reader Fanfiction #Mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #jim hopper #stranger things season 1

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capt-spooki3 · 3 years

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By The Witch's Grace

Chapter One

A Sbi "choose your own story" fanfiction

It seems Y/n, a known and hated magic user in their small town, has a lot to deal with after the rowdy bunch that is Philza, Wilbur, Technoblade, and Tommy, show up at their door step in the midst of a giant snow storm...

Warning: Cursing, talk of hate/discrimination

2.6k words

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“Alright, we need flour, milk, apples... Uh no no stop meowing, please. Shit okay, flour, milk, apples, and what? Oh god, was it- oh! Bottles! Of course, geez.” Y/n laughs at themself before kneeling down, and pets the head of their cat who was demanding their attention. The little feline, who looked like a little toasted marshmallow, purred and meowed as she was happy with the much-needed attention.

“Alright Poppy, I’ll be back. Be a good little girl for me, okay? I’ll be back in time to give you supper I promise.” They baby talked to the cat with little forehead kisses before getting back up to their feet and reaching toward the wall where a large cloak was hung on a large nail next to the door. They threw on the heavy fabric and clasped the small glass button to keep it on their shoulders, their hand lingering as it passed over the glassy eye that permanently stayed on a chain around their neck. The result of a curse placed, not too long ago, that bound it to their person until death. Just the luck of someone who often plays with magic that they can barely comprehend.

The piece would pass as a decoration to any untrained eye, but to those who delved into the arts of magic, any one of them could tell you what this object was. With the deep and light greens with accents of blue and a cat-eye pupil that was forever staring, there was no mistaking an eye of ender. The object was rich in stored-up mana, but it was no joke. Even with the most skilled of mages, they had to be most cautious and limit their time interacting with the eye. The sooner they distanced themself from it the better as the eye has been heavily rumored to take possession of people who use its magic for too long. Mages long past wrote notes in books, Y/n as read countless times, on how the eye has influenced beings to cause great harm and destruction. Its motives are still unknown.

With the object on their person 24/7, they take caution every moment in case the eye decides it's time to take control. They hope it isn't any time soon.

Tucking the eye of ender under the latch of the cloak, they peeked outside to be met with chilled air kissing their cheeks. The bitter promise of snow.

More the reason to get their errands done as soon as they could to get back home. As if their life being in danger wasn’t the biggest reason to rush so they could hide again. They carefully pulled on their hood and hid as much of their features as they could within the cloak before stashing a satchel that jingled with coins and setting off through the door.

Being able to leave their distant home was always a treat, but also a constant threat to their life. They were never positive if they would return home after each venture. As a magic user, thoughtfully given the nickname of ‘Witch’ from the townsfolk, they weren’t liked much. They made the mistake of trying to show off their powers once before learning quickly that magic was despised among these people. It was only associated with the rich who treated people lower than them like they were dirt under their shiny boots. Luckily they still had a vendor in the town that sold to them, it was the only thing keeping them going.

After about a hour walk down a few winding forest paths that they carved out by themself after years of taking the same route, the port town was in view. Snow littered the ground to the sides of the dirt roads that they walked along and the small breeze that was present ran cold, the overcast sky promised a harsh amount of snow. That is bound to make next week fun. They sure were lucky to bring extra coins so they can stock up.

Once reaching the main town, they made sure to keep their head down and slip through the hundreds of bodies at the markets. It was all routine now, sadly. They took a turn down an alley that harbored a few stray cats and even a dog that scattered when they pressed on down the alley. Softly, they knocked a code to the shopkeep on the old wooden door.

The door just barely creaked open and an old green eye peered out. Y/n looked down to meet the weary eye peeking out at them and couldn't fight a smile. An old cackle rang out and the door opened up wide to an older woman. She was small and had all gray and white hair that was long and braided over her shoulder, but her eyes were alive and she was brimming with joy.

“Oh my little bird, how are you doing?” She said fondly with a slight German accent and Y/n knelt for the woman when she reached to hold their cheeks and look them over.

“I’m well Oma, thank you. You look as young as ever.” The kind words made the woman laugh and she put her hands on her hips and let out a sigh of contentment.

“So what do you need today? I just got in a big order of sugar if you want some.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful actually. I need flour, milk, and is Opa at his shop today? I need apples and he always has those bottles that I need.”

“Actually, he is home sick today,” She started and she walked into the shop to retrieve what Y/n needed. “He caught a small cold but he’ll be better soon. Wait just a moment and I’ll go grab everything.”

The lady went off on her way and Y/n sat on the doorstep, waiting and watching the people walk past the end of the alley. They cringed to themselves whenever they caught the word witch in some distant conversations, they seemed to be a tall tale at this point. At least they weren’t being actively hunted down anymore.

A few long minutes passed and there was a small thump that caught their attention in the shop, when they looked back there were two large sacks and no sign of the woman. Rest assured, after a few moments, the old lady was just barely managing to carry two more large sacks filled to the brim with the few things they had asked for plus much more as they usually only bring one sack home each trip.

“Oma! Oh no, I don’t have enough for all of this! Besides, I can’t possibly carry this all back home.”

“I know, I know. You’ll need it with the weather we have coming on tonight, as payment you can show me that magic you talked about last time. You know that… carrying magic..” She gestured wildly, trying her hardest to remember the word as Y/n stood back up.

“Oh, my spatial magic? I’m not too good at it, but I am sure I can manage this. Alright, are you ready?” They checked the alley for possible watching eyes before holding their hands out with their palms toward the bags.

The old woman stepped back and watched with excitement, her eyes practically sparkling already. Y/n closed their eyes and sucked in a deep breath, their hand flexing a bit and opening wider. A soft purple light began to emit from their hands and two thin, long arms that seemed to be made from the night sky itself stretched out and each hand touched the sack and engulfed it in darkness before retreating back within Y/n’s hands. They let out their held and concentrated breath with a deep sigh, their muscles and bones feeling heavy as they held some of the weight of the sacks within their being.

“That was amazing! Oh, you are so talented, I am so proud of you.” The woman said happily and walked forward, pulling Y/n down and kissing the head of the young mage she seemed to love. “Please hurry home now, stay safe. Opa and I love you and I hope to see you again soon.”

She waved them off and Y/n waved back, pulling their hood down more for precaution, and slipped into the crowd toward the road they took back home. They felt rather blessed they were able to make it home without even a scare.

They walked along the road, waiting to see their well-worn path as the heaviness of their body grew with walking uphill. Using magic like this weighed on the body and the soul with however much the individual was carrying. They reached up, pulling down the clasp to their cloak to reveal the eye of ender to the world. As much as they didn't want to rely on its power, it was the only way they would confidently make it home. Grasping the warm object tight, it pulsed with magic beneath their fingers as if it were alive, they sent their mana into the eye to mix and grant them a magic boost. They knew quite well the item was evil and no good to toy with, what else should one do when it's bound to them for life? With a soft purple glow to their eyes now, their body felt lighter and the strain to keep their goodies in a personal pocket in the dimension lifted almost completely. They shook off their bits of anxiety with the gain of power and picked up the pace to get home as small flurries were filling the air around them.

The walk back home was fast and they were beyond relieved upon opening the door and feeling the hug of the warm cottage and a string of excited meows when their familiar raced to greet them.

“Hey Poppy, miss me?” They stroked the cat before kneeling on the ground to perform the same technique of magic for consuming the sacks to spit them back out onto the ground in front of them and hummed a soft tune while they went through the goodies and put them in their respected places around the three stories of the home. Before they noticed it, the world outside had grown dark and they lit the lanterns around the house and peered through a window to see the snow blowing strongly and the wind howling, they hadn’t even gotten a chance to see the sunset. This was turning out to be a real blizzard, they did a silent prayer that it wouldn’t last long.

Just as Y/n was trying to put the last of the sugar away there was a heavy thump on the door followed by a hurried couple of knocks of which were all inconsistent but did the job of grabbing their attention. They fumbled with the sugar but safely put it down before hurrying to the door, their fast movements spooked the cat and caused her to scramble away to go hide.

Once getting the locks undone they opened up the door to see four individuals standing there, waiting. Two of the larger individuals there stood on the sides to frame the group in a way. The one on the left most who had shoulder-length pink hair and noticeable tusks sticking out from his bottom lip and inhuman down pointed ears, was using his large, red cloak to hold a blond boy who was about to his shoulder, against him and shield him from the snow. The two both had on heavy armor, though, the blond’s armor was a bit more leather than metal. On the other end stood a taller man with brown hair who also was in armor and was hunched over to be able to get covered by a large dark grey wing that held him. Said wings belonging to a man who was shorter than the brunette and had on expensive-looking mage robes and messy blond hair. The winged man looked to Y/n in desperation as he began to speak.

“Please let us stay for the night. We will leave as the sun rises, please just-”

“Stop talking- just come in. Hurry! It’s got to be below zero out there.” Y/n hurriedly ushered the bunch inside as they held the door open for them.

The burly pink-haired man was the first to make a move as he pushed the blond boy off of him and through the doorway and was already reaching over to push the brown-haired man next. He made sure the winged individual made his way in before going in. He looked at Y/n who was still holding the door and adjusted his jaw, a nervous habit it seemed, eyes darting around a bit before he returned his eyes to them and gave a nod of appreciation.

Y/n barley was able to get the door closed after him before they turned around and was assaulted with a hug from the winged man, he was incredibly cold. They hugged the man back, rubbing his back a little as he said many soft thank yous to them, though they watched the other three who stood close and looked around at the bottom portion of their home. The blond boy hugged himself close, shivering and the brunette rubbed his back as he looked around.

They hope they wouldn’t regret not thinking it through before letting a bunch of strange people into their home.

“I truly cannot thank you enough for this. We would have died out there.” The man said as he finally let go of Y/n and studied their face for a moment, looking for words it seemed. “We should introduce ourselves. I’m Phil and the big guy back there is Technoblade. The lanky one is Wilbur and the blond one between them is Tommy. They are my sons.”

Y/n watched them as Phil introduced them, each of them giving them some sort of little greeting when they were called. Whether it was a head nod or a little wave or a smile. They seemed nice.

“One hell of a family..” Y/n mumbled which Phil seemed quite funny and even Wilbur chuckled a bit.

“Oh yeah, but they are my boys.” He said while looking at the three with fondness.

The sweet moment was caught a little short when Technoblade crossed his arms, his body language screaming distrust. He looked down at Y/n and sized them up as he grumbled out a question that sounded more like a command. “What is your name. Who are you.”

“Techno- for god’s sake be a little nicer could ya? Bloody hell, they just saved us.” Wilbur retorted and Technoblade huffed a little growl and looked away. Wilbur gave a short and annoyed sigh, looking back at Y/n as he pulled his hand away from Tommy and instead rested a hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist. It wasn’t meant to be seen as a threat, but the gesture did make Y/n a bit uneasy as they shuffled back a tad. Instead, he just spoke kindly with an inviting hand gesture.

“What is your name?” He stated and he and Phil looked at them expectantly.

They hesitated for a moment with the eyes on them and cleared their throat, standing taller. “My name is Y/n... it’s nice to meet all of you.” They thought for a moment about what they should say to these people who stood awkwardly, warming up from the cold. “How about I uh… go get some blankets for you all. Blankets and I’ll set up my two spare rooms.” They added as more of a side note to themselves than the group and hurried up the stairs to get things together.

This was going to be a long night. They can only hope the snow stops soon.

[Chapter Two]

-------------------------------------------------------

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moonlightwritesdisney · 3 years

Text

DREAM COME TRUE. -- WYATT LYKENSEN.

Paring: Wyatt Lykensen X FEMALE! READER

Requested: Yes / No

Warnings: foul language. nudity. graphic descriptions of blood and cannibalism. sexual activity.

Summary: Weeks after your old elementary friend had finally vanished from all existence everything seems to finally go back to normal. Standing in a coffee shop you met him. And all hell breaks loose.

SEQUEL TO ‘YOU’.

PREVIOUSLY . . .

You were fashioned in the bathroom taking a warm cloth and bringing it towards your face wiping off the dried blood. You sucked in a breathe the sound of your beating heart filling your ears. You didn’t feel at all ashamed for what you had done. That bastard human deserved it.

The overbearing of your anxiety flared, you were worried you might get in huge trouble, since unfortunately, the human is never to blame. You had gone to bed that night in hopes for a better day the next morning -- the only problem was, he saw everything.

THE DIRT BELOW HIS BROWN BOOTS became sore while he had previously been peering into your small window for the past five minutes watching you. Your brown pale skin covered in the blood that wasn’t your own. Your face dry and lips cracked from the crying you had done, you felt numb. Your heat besting rapidly in anxiety.

The mirror reflected your bruised image. The bags under your eyes were a dark purple, your eyes a dark brown with widened pupils ( a side effect of a broken Z-band which usually wears off after twelve hours ). Your sink water turned a bright pink as the last of his blood washed down the drain. Disappearing into the drain pipes.

Your mascara smeared down your cheeks, your nose and cheeks red and your eyes puffy. ‘Your going to kill him’. A selfish voice spat in his head, his sharp claws dug into the untouched flesh of his tan palm. He was furious.

How could someone so shameful have the power of destroying someone who was so innocent? She was a ray of pure sunshine. His sunshine. The pondering question he already knew the answer to racked the Alpha wolf’s brain. He couldn’t understand it.

You were so innocent. Baby like. His baby. He felt guilt.

A page pant of sadness washed over him. He had wished it was him, who could comfort you from what had just happened. ‘Shh baby it’s okay I’m here now, your safe, completely safe, I won’t let anyone ever harm you again, ever, never again. I am so sorry.

So sorry. So sorry.’ He had imagined you sobbing desperately in his chest the ache of your body he felt against his own skin, he’d stroke your arm softly and whisper sweet nothing in your ear.

He’d reassure you constantly, be their for you when having to deal with the gained trauma even after the act. He’d give you anything you needed. Leave you loving encouraging notes in your belongings. Hold you every night as you slept. Lock every door and window in the house.

He’d lay bare with you in bed for hours just to make sure his babygirl was okay. Although he couldn’t help blame himself. He knew that he couldn’t just burst into your house and save you from your attacker, even after the matter.

‘oh uhm yeah, I’ve totally been watching you for months, that includes changing, and showering, and well... pleasing yourself too.

I’ve seen it all, and uhm I’m kinda in love with you too so I mean that’s a plus, uhm I know literally everything about you, how you are very persistent in organization and you hate cheesy romantic comedies.

How you’d just want to stay up until three a.m. reading a book about truce crime. How you can girl over the most underrated music artists and how you hate a guy that plays dumb in the most basic way. I know you absolutely hate roses anything I’m missing?’

He chuckled at the image of you stunned. He knew more about you than you knew yourself. How you’d jump into his arms, the feeling of your skin against his. Your soft lips brushing against his neck. He’d want it all.

That would immensely creep you out. His intention would to never make you uncomfortable. So the pain only grew worse. Not being able to call you by your name. Hold you. Take in the surreal beauty that was Y/N.

His white fangs pressed against his bottom teeth. His blood boiled to the brim. He wanted to make that disgusting human pay for what he did. His stomach twirled in mixed emotion.

He so badly wanted to hold you in his chest and comfort you, but some things have complicated consequences.

In the low midst of the night he kept a sharp eye on the human who groggily made his way down the deserted dirt road, stalking the weak being beneath the depths of the dark forest.

Small boots could be heard from miles stretched along the black canvas of the open air, the human male scanning his surroundings for some place to rest or.. a possible shortcut that could lead him home.

Wyatt licked his dry lips breathing out slowly watching the human stand in the clearing with curiosity. ‘Kill him’. ‘He deserves to suffer for what he did’. ‘Y/N’. ‘Think of Y/N’. ‘Gut him’.

The imploding thoughts trying to take control of him. His pupils shrunk and turned a bright yellow his fangs grew from the K-9’s in his mouth. He breathed heavily and beast like trying to regain his composure. Sure, he thought of you.

How you would’ve told him ‘this is dangerous and could get you caught by wolf patrol don’t’. But, the monster side of her would’ve agreed with him. Could’ve given into the impulses.

Could’ve joined in on the eccentric thrill of gutting a human to their bones watching as blood came spitting out of their body, falling limp to the ground and squirming like a dead rabbit, until their last breath leaves the closure of their lungs.

But he bit down on the inside of his cheek hard and shoved the impulsive thoughts aside. He caught attention of the human stepping through the clearing, Wyatt swiftly disappeared behind a tree. (Thank his wolf stealth.)

He watching closely behind the large oak as the midnight sky lit up with thousands of glowing stars the bright moon floating still. His feet crunched under the small wood chips and loose dirt, which made Wyatt’s right ear twitch occasionally.

The human was lost, he had reached up to a large clearing in the middle of the forest ‘maybe this will be a quicker way home’. He thought to himself as he squeezed his way through the thick pine trees that scratched his face and dark leather. Little did he know he wouldn’t be going home.

An owl called in the distance alarming the human. Shrugging it off he walked a few more feet bonfire stopping in the middle of the clearing an eerie feeling began to set it and shake throughout his body. Wyatt quickly ran behind the large oak tree causing the bushes to rustle.

The human quickly threw his head around to the source of the sound, Wyatt felt his heart pace quickly , quicker as each second passed.

The moonstone laid on Wyatt’s chest grew a bright blue his sharp K-9s’ growing to a slick point and his eyes glowing a bright deeming yellow.

A low growl erupted from his stomach the animalistic nature taking grasp of his human side. The human caught sight of a dark shadow peeking out from behind the tree. He bolted the other direction.

His breathing paced as his nimble legs carried him the south west end of the dark dreary forest. Mud crushed under his boots his lungs burning and heaving out of exhaustion. Wyatt was faster. He dodged past trees and bushes running at almost fifty miles.

His leg got caught on a sharp tree ranch nearby he knew that whatever was out to kill him was going to make it quick. He was scared. He pulled with force which caused the branch to cut into the soft flesh of his leg, blood seeped through the blue denim and into Wyatt’s nostrils.

Jumping over large rocks and the bushes he caught up to the human quickly grabbing him by his jacket he pushed to human to the ground and used the force of his arms to hold him in a pin.

The human breathed heavily his eyes widened in fear “please .... don’t hurt me”. He spoke weak like it was an excuse to let him go. Wyatt’s eyes glowed his lips formed a deep snarl.

“Let you go? And what, you continue raping other innocent women”. He whispered a deeply distorted voice replacing Wyatt’s usual calm manner. The monster had completely taken over. The human whimpered and squirmed like a dead animal.

A scream left the human’s mouth and soared above the trees as Wyatt bite deeply into the salty flesh. The blood was warm a large chunk of his skin hung off of Wyatt’s mouth before he spit it out discarding it.

The human grunted and moaned in pain shooting out lines of foul words. Wyatt smirked as he straddled the humans hips in place allowing him to not move.

In panic the human began to wail his arms, the young wolf felt his heart erupt in his chest. The watched as the human wailed in half death, he felt evincible.

The blood squirted and poured out of the human’s uncared wound. The blood tasted sweet in his mouth, a true delicacy.

About fifteen minutes after he threw the discarded bones into a six feet deep ditch he had dug after killing the human.

His mouth, arms, and clothes all drenched in the human’s bodily fluids and chunks of his flesh on his chest.

He smelt foul. He knew he did. He wanted to make sure you were okay but couldn’t come to you smelling like this.

He had walked the path he knew like the back of his hand spotting the small watering hole, he stood at the shore of the small lake the moon glowing brightly over him.

Taking off his fur coat he stripped himself of his purple hoodie before slowly bringing up his white tank top over his head revealing his broad v line, toned abs and chest stained with blood.

Unclasping his jeans he slide them down towards his knees kicking off his boots and white socks. Then came his boxers.

He engulfed himself in the lake slowly, it was freezing cold but was used to it. The water has risen up to the middle of his waist, he began to vigorously rub off the dried blood splashing cold water in his face and arms.

Dipping himself under the cold lake he rushed up and breathed out coughing. Moving his wet hair out of his face he caught sight of a dark shadowed figure that stood at the shore. He could’ve sworn it was you. Your pale skin glimmered beautifully under the moonlight.

He didn’t move a muscle, yet he waited to see what your next intention was. A robe you were wearing slowly feel to the ground as you now stood naked your gaze kept on his, you slowly entered the water.

Your figure made your way through the cold water, his eyes never leaving yours he was absolutely stunned. This had to be surreal.

Your hips moved in the water causing ripples to shift outwards, your brown eyes fluttered innocently. He stood in front of you awestricken, you were gorgeous.

He was scared that maybe if he had made one wrong move you’d leave, so there he stood motionless waiting for you to respond.

You were now in front of him, your naked glory he kept his eyes on you out of full curiosity. Your face inches away from his you guided his hands towards your side his warm arms wrapped securely around your waist.

The tension was lingering, his heart was pacing at an irregular pace questions swirling around in his mind but nonetheless, he wouldn’t change a thing.

The two of your lips met in pure bliss, moving in synchronization your fingernails traveling up the back of his neck and into his soft curls his hands gripping your hips lightly not wanting to hurt you without permission.

His lips trailed from your jaw and to your neck where he softly bite and sucked gaining small moans from you in response.

Heavy breathing and moans began to fall from your lips as he held you in his arms his nails digging into the sides of your hips causing you to squirm, the fingers of his right hand gently sliding over your folds.

Unfortunately for Wyatt, he awoke in a panic, his head was spinning and he was covered in blood. His brown eyes scanned his surroundings, the green trees a dim green and the woods ground wet and sloshy from the rain the night before.

It was a dream.

Fuck. It was a dream.

Shivers shot down his spine and throughout his body as he remembered the horny dream he had. God he wished it where real. He observed his clothing. He was drenched in blood. His whole body.

He pondered to himself in confusion then it clicked. After killing the human he had retreated back to the clearing and fell asleep after ... Waking up he knew aside from the perks of his wolf powers one downside was that wolves couldn’t remember events that happen after they detach from their human form.

He licked his chapped numb lips while his ears perked up, sirens could be heard from miles away, holy shit. The police had found his body. Quickly, he stood up and ran left towards large similar oaks trees, lucky for him he knew the woods so it was easy for him.

Suddenly while his head was turned behind him making sure he wasn’t seen he quickly looked forward and collided with anther body a loud grunt slipped passed his lips as he fell on the hard soil, groaning.

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smallraindrops-blog · 3 years

Text

Part two of A Road to Somewhere

💤

You weren't sure when you fell asleep, maybe after the stop for gas. But when you woke up, the skies had mellowed into soft oranges and pinks.

Hypnos' had his shade tucked into his shirt, and his fingers tapped along the wheel in time to the music.

His face looked relaxed for the first time since the trip began. Your heart tightened with something you couldn't put a name to, even if you were upset with him, you still wanted him happy.

You sat up with a yawn, "Where are we?"

"Moo." Hypnos replied.

"Really? Fine, you are free from the bet or whatever." You waved a hand around.

"We just got into the mountain path, about an hour away from the inn my mom told me about." Hypnos chatted quickly. "And then we are only ten minutes away from the ocean. Which you will be amazed at and will thank me profusely for taking you."

You chuckled, "Did you miss being able to talk my ear off?"

Hypnos shoved your shoulder with a laugh, "Shut up. You just got lucky with that cow."

"You know I've seen pictures right? I know what the ocean looks like." You told Hypnos.

"Oh sure, the pictures are totally the same." Hypnos rolled his eyes, "I told you to trust me how many times now?"

"Okay. Okay. You're right, Hypnos." You said.

"Thank you! See now only if I can get everyone else to see that." Hypnos replied.

It was about two hours of driving on the path and no inn sight when you spoke up.

"I think we're lost." You said quietly as you studied the dark and looming woods. There was no light or signs to guide you. Even the moonlight offered little help.

"We are not lost. Mom probably just forgot how long it takes to get there." Hypnos squinted into the dark, even the high beams struggled to break through the darkness.

You pulled up your phone, and tried to get the google maps pulled up. You gave up after a few minutes and opened up the paper map.

"Told you so." Hypnos murmured.

You opted not to respond as you used your phone's flashlight to read the map.

After a few moments, you found roughly where you were. You could see where the mountain path ended. "It looks like there might be a turn up here to leave the mountains. Maybe twenty miles? Is that where inn is?"

Hypnos nodded, "Yeah, you go past the mountains, keep driving until you can hear the ocean, you should be able to see the inn."

You bit your bottom lip as you watched the dark forest blurred together. You really hoped Hypnos was right about this.

💤

It had been another hour with no end in sight. Only the dark woods remained, an unwelcome present.

Hypnos had stopped talking, his hands tight on the wheel. The air was tense and you could feel how tight your chest was. Normally you could count on Hypnos to break it but Hypnos hasn't been himself for most of the trip. The drunk call at three am, the lack of his phone use and how desperate he was for you to see the ocean; something he never seemed to care about before.

You rolled your head to look at him. He still looked good, even when he was stressed and tired. And you were far too tired to care if Hypnos caught you staring.

"Do you remember what I said I would do if we got lost in the woods?" You asked him, breaking the silence for the first time in a while. "You know, eating your bones and whatnot."

Hypnos' lips quirked up in a small grin. "Why is it that every time when something happens you threaten to eat me? You did it even when we were in the boy scouts together."

"Maybe because I know how tasty you are." You said without thinking.

Hypnos laughed, "I never thought cannibalism would be used to hit on me but here we are."

You went silent, flushed and turned away to stare out the window. "I wasn't…"

"No. No, I know. Just a joke." Hypnos said quickly.

You didn't see the glance Hypnos shot you. The air grew thick with awkwardness that you were unwilling to break.

"Y/N, look I know we haven't talked about-" Hypnos started to say but you shook your head. You weren't doing this, not now, not where there was no privacy to hide your emotions.

"Do you know how much longer?" You asked, trying not to think about what just happened or about anything.

"Not too long, I think the treeline got thinner." Hypnos replied, his voice hurt. You flinched at his tone, and hated yourself for causing it.

Just as he said that, you broke past the woodland into an open field.

And just like that the air in the car changed.

"Oh thank fuck!" Hypnos whooped and you laughed at his manic smile. "Y/N, roll down the windows. Do you hear anything?"

You obeyed him, and tried to listen over the rush of wind. "Nothing yet. No wait...I think I do hear it."

"Just wait until tomorrow. You're gonna love it." Hypnos yawned.

"Let me take over, you've been driving for the whole trip." You told him, watching Hypnos shake his head.

"Thanks but no. I got this. And also look ahead, the inn should be right around there." Hypnos pointed out and once you made it over the hill, you saw it.

Softly lit by warm lights, it looked like it belonged in a storybook. Once you arrived, checked in with the chatty front desk girl and made your way to the room, one with two beds, you sat down with a happy sigh. You kicked your shoes off, watching Hypnos stumbled to his own bed.

Hypnos flopped face down on his bed with a moan. "I love this bed." He slurred. "Best bed ever."

You looked around the room, it leaned into the nautical with soft blues walls and white shells decor. A small white and green turtle figurine stared at you from your bedside table.

"Hey Hypnos?" You asked, staring at the turtle so you didn't have to look at him. "I'm sorry. About what happened in the car."

When you got no response, you glanced at him only to see him soundly asleep. You walked over to him and lightly stoke his hair. Carefully you tugged his shoes off and flipped what blanket you could over him.

And with that you turned off the lights.

💤

"No peeking. I swear I will turn the car around if I see you even try." Hypnos' hand covered your face but you pushed his hand away.

"I've been covering my eyes since we got the car." You replied, a little grumpy at how early Hypnos woke up. The one time you would have wanted to sleep in, Hypnos was up and moving even before the inn started serving breakfast.

"Mom took me and my brothers here once, did I tell you that?" Hypnos sounded excited. "Than got stung by a jellyfish and cried for like three hours."

"You sound way too happy about that." You chuckled.

"He kicked over my sand castle, he deserved it." Hypnos muttered.

You felt the car stopped and with one more warning not to peek, Hypnos got out. Your door opened and Hypnos gilded you out.

His hands rested on your shoulders, warm and big. It took everything not to lean more into the touch.

You heard the sounds of crashing waves and a faint sound of a gull cry.

"Okay... and look!"

It was beautiful. The ocean was so much bluer than you thought possible. You stepped on to the sand and walked forward, Hypnos followed behind you.

You two were the only souls around the hidden patch of beach between the cliffs, and all you can hear is the ocean hitting the rocks.

"Dude! How did your mom find this place?" You asked as you stopped short of the ocean's reach.

"My dad brought her here when they first met." Hypnos kicked off his flip flops and stepped into the water up his knees.

You copied him, only to almost fall backwards when a big wave came but caught yourself at the last second. "Woah, I didn't expect the waves to be so strong."

Hypnos tossed an arm around your shoulders to hold you steady as the waves rolled past both of you. He laughed warmly, "So pictures are totally the same thing huh?"

You smiled, "You're right, the pictures don't do justice."

"Music to my ears, Y/N." Hypnos squeezed your shoulder, "Come on. Let's get set up."

💤

The day went by quickly, sunset had just begun with deep reds and oranges. You could feel the sunburn already on your cheeks. Hypnos' shoulders and back were already burned and you knew you would be hearing him bitch about it later.

You laid on your stomach on the beach towel, lazily watching him build the tower of a sand castle.

Hypnos' tongue was sticking out a little and it made him look boyishly charming.

You looked toward the ocean, the waves lapping away at the footprints left behind. You didn't see the small bucket Hypnos packed tightly with sand or the devious look in his eyes.

You yelped when the cold lid of the bucket touched between your shoulder blades, followed by the sand. You turned your head toward Hypnos who grinned at your offended glare.

He immediately begins adding more on you, patting it down firmly with both hands.

"Hypnos." You said carefully, "If you put any more sand on me, I will kick your ass."

Wordlessly Hypnos scooped up a huge pile of sand in his hand and met your eyes.

"I won every fight we ever had since we were kids, so don't." You warned, eyes narrowed but a grin threatened to break on your face.

With a mad laugh, Hypnos dropped the sand on your back and you promptly tackled him. You were able to push his back into the sand but half a second later, you realized you missed both his arms as they tightened around your shoulders.

Hypnos rolled, pulled you along with him and your back hit the sand. You let out a grunt as you tried to squirm out but Hypnos matched you for every move. You freed one hand only for Hypnos to grab your wrist and pinned it by your head.

He immediately took the opportunity to do the same with your other wrist as he straddled your waist with all of his weight on you.

Hypnos stared down at you, panting slightly. You could tell he looked surprised as you did.

You relaxed under him, and spread out your hands.

"You win." You told him softly. Between the sounds of the waves and how the sunset made Hypnos' eyes even more golden, you couldn't think straight. Or even about how you found yourself in this position again when you swore you wouldn't.

"I win." Hypnos agreed just as softly. He leaned down and kissed you before you could react. For a few minutes, you returned the slow and deep kiss. Hypnos hummed deep in his throat, his chest fully against yours.

Hypnos pulled away, his face flushed and looking at him was what brought you back to reality.

"Nono. No. Hypnos get off now. Please." You begged him. Immediately he moved off and sat down on the sand.

There was an awkward pause as you sat up, not able to speak. A hard wind blew against you, and you shook at how cold and alone you felt.

"Y/N…" Hypnos murmured, his hand reached out to touch you but you moved away.

"No, I'm not doing this again." You said as you curled in on yourself. "Last time almost killed me. Not again."

"What are you talking about?" Hypnos moved closer but didn't touch you, his tone gentle. "Y/N. Look at me. Please. Are… Are you talking about the first time we kissed?"

"What else could I be talking about, Hypnos?" You snapped, "You can't just keep acting like it didn't happen."

"I haven't but you certainly have!" Hypnos' tone turned hard. "I just tried to act like it wasn't a big deal when you made it clear you didn't want a relationship with me."

Hypnos laughed but it wasn't friendly. "And I was the one who brought it up in the car in case you forgot, Y/N."

"Excuse me for not wanting to be your Meg replacement." You snapped at him, not knowing what else to say. You stood to walk away but Hypnos leaped up. His hands grabbed your shoulders and turned you around to face him. His other hand squeezed your biceps.

"What are you talking about?" Hypnos said, his tone desperate.

"You're kidding me right? You've been in love with her since seventh grade when she punched you during gym and gave you a nosebleed." You cried. "I knew you were upset at finding out that your brother is dating her."

Hypnos said nothing for a few moments before he chuckled, "I haven't looked, let alone thought of her that like in years."

You stared, not quite believing what you were hearing. "But you were upset when you found out Thanatos was dating Meg and Zagreus."

"I was upset that he didn't tell me that they had been together for almost a whole year." Hypnos paused. "And that they didn't lock the door. I mean come on. At least a sock on the front door or something."

You laughed slightly, and Hypnos grinned softly. He looked at you with such fondness you had to look away from him to keep yourself from blushing.

"Do you know why I brought you here,Y/N?" He asked carefully.

You opened your mouth only to close it. After a few seconds, you mutely shook your head.

"I want my best friend back." Hypnos said brokenly.

"I had this stupid idea if I could just go somewhere new or different with you, that maybe we could forget what I did to our friendship." Hypnos talked as you stay quiet. "I knew I fucked up, I pushed too hard and too soon but god, I couldn't look away from you anymore and… And I thought you felt the same."

You swallowed, "I thought when you acted like it didn't happen you regretted what happened, regretted me."

"Never, how could I regret you? Y/N, when we weren't talking I was going crazy. I felt like I had a limp missing. Mom was showing me these photos back when we were kids, and you were in almost all of them." Hypnos swallowed. "I just want you back."

You took a deep breath, feeling like you were on a cliff and didn't know if you were to fall forward or backward. "You didn't lose me. I just didn't want to be the thing you used to get over Meg."

"Is that why you didn't want to go out with me?" Hypnos asked and squeezed your arm gently. "Y/N, I don't know if you noticed but I've been crazy about you for years."

"Oh." You blinked. "Oh."

Hypnos smiled, "Yeah. Oh."

"Is it too late? For us?" You asked, heart racing.

"Never." Hypnos cupped your face. "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes, please." You met him halfway into the kiss, smiling with relief.

Days later, on your way home, Hypnos' hand rested on your thigh as you sat in peace.

It felt like home.

#hades hypnos #hypnos x reader #hypnos x male!reader #requests

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valwentinefics · 3 years

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I loved your Edward Cullen piece! I feel that that he would have a constant sexual urge brimming underneath and you accurately portrayed it boiling over. May i request another piece on how the MC and Esward met?

A/N: Sorry this took a bit, writers block + still being in school was tough but I managed, even If i’m not all that happy with the result! Prob will do a part 2 sorry the dialogue is awkward. I imagined like a scenario like the cannon universe where edward is into her but also scared of harming her but hes also just a teen boy with his first crush, both Y/n and edward arent sure how to act with it.

Tw: Being scared to walk alone at night?? Idk just put that just in case!!

The midnight wind blew through Y/n’s hair, a chill running up her spine not just from the cold, but with every set of glowing headlights that passed her by. Y/n was never one to walk around at night, the fear of what may lurk had been pushed upon her since she was a child, and now as she wandered the dim streets her chest felt so tight with fear she wasn’t sure if she could breathe. Y/n wished she had accepted Dr. Cullens offer of a ride home, but she didn’t want to inconvenience the man and instead lied about taking a taxi. Her and Dr. Cullen had become close over the past few weeks that she had been volunteering at the hospital, hoping to gain experience when she applied to universities to be a doctor. The two were inseparable there, Y/n watching with wide eyes and bated breath whatever the doctor did, and Carlisle carefully walking her through step by step the process of what he was doing.

She pulled her sweater tighter around her body as she rounded the corner into an alleyway her e/c coloured eyes darting around. She could see her breath as she tried to calm her breathing, but that was proved futile when she stepped on a can, the loud crunch startling a scream out of her. “Get it together Y/n.” She muttered, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, trying to regain composure as she heard distant voices approaching. Her hand, stiff from cold, dug into her pocket, grabbing her keys and sticking them through the paces between her fingers. Feeling a little better, Y/n continued her walk.

Y/n had to admit, despite her terror, the night time in forks was beautiful. The way the streets were illuminated by the passing headlights of cars, and the occasional coloured lights of stores reflected through the puddles that seemed to forever be there in the rainy city had the ability to take her breath away despite how small they were. The awe of the neon painted town distracted her from the silent footsteps coming behind her.

“Y/n?” Spoke a familiar voice. She spun around at the sound of her name, her grip on her keys tightened, only to loosen a bit when she recognized the man in front of her. Edward Cullen. “It’s late, why are you out here alone? You must be cold.” Y/n hadn't talked to the Cullen boy before, or really any Cullen other than Carlisle. At school the Cullen kids seemed like an untouchable group, but seeing him now, soaking wet, she felt as if he wasn't so high above the rest as everyone thought.

“I-I’m fine. Just a little chilly.” She lied, feeling the chill seep past the wet sweater she wore and into her body. The Cullen boy seemed to notice it was a lie, taking off his jacket and placing it over her shoulders in a fluid movement. “But won’t you get--”

“I don’t get cold easily.” Edward cut off her question, “Besides, my car is nearby. It’ll be warm in there.”

“No no it’s fine I’ll just take a cab.” Y/n said quickly, though the feeling of being in a warm car filled her thoughts she didn’t want to inconvenience anyone and much preferred to do things on her own despite her empty wallet disagreeing.

“It’ll be no inconvenience, besides It’ll save you money.” He replied as if he read her mind. Y/n opened her mouth to come up with a reason to not go with him but all that came out was a sneeze.

“See, you’re already catching a cold. Lets go.” Edward put his hand on the small of her back and began to lead Y/n to a Volvo parked on the side of the road. Y/n felt bad for bothering him but she could feel herself getting sicker with every sniffle, and her body was ice cold. She really wished she had initially accepted Dr. Cullen’s offer for a ride, fear dawning on her as she realized she would have to call in sick. If Edward noticed how she was feeling, he didn’t show it, staying silent as he ushered her into the car and passed her a blanket he had stored inside.

The car ride was quiet, the air between the two thick and awkward as they both figured out what to say. Y/n wished she could read minds, know what he was thinking. She hoped he wouldn’t tell Dr.Cullen about the meeting between the two, not wanting to appear like she rejected his car ride for any reason other than her own stupid independence. Y/n was about to say something, a question about how he found the weather, anything to make the ride less awkward, when he pulled up to her house. Quick pleasantries were exchanged between the two and Y/n headed inside, only realizing she had Edwards' coat once he had pulled away.

For the next few days the Cullen's were no shows at school. Y/n had the coat stashed in her locker to give to him, and yet she couldn’t find him. It drove Y/n insane. Every day she would walk into the cafeteria ready to finally get rid of this coat whose presence was weighing heavy on her subconscious, only to face disappointment when he wasn’t there. She knew a jacket wasn’t all that important in the long term, but it smelled so much like Edward’s car and reminded her of him and his stupidly attractive face, Y/n wanted to rid herself of it before her budding crush blossomed into a full blown one. It took a few days for Y/n to muster up the courage to talk to Dr.Cullen about it. Worries filled the back of her mind that he would think her to be stupid or weird, but as the were cleaning up for the night Y/n decided to bite the bullet.

Y/n sprayed the sharp smelling sanitizer on the table, wiping it down with a cloth and repeating on the next, her lips pursed as she thought of how to bring up the situation to the doctor across the room from her, who was busy looking over papers. Luckily the blonde seemed to notice first, standing up from his seat and walking over.

“Y/n, what’s on your mind?” He asked casually yet looking at her with the look of concern only a father could give.

“Well a while ago, when you offered me a ride home because my car was in the shop and I said no and I would take a taxi, I actually decided to walk home because I didn’t want to bother you and then I ran into your son Edward and he gave me a ride home, but then I forgot to give it back to him, so could you?” Y/n asked, her words spilling out of her mouth quickly, glad she could finally get the situation off her chest.

Carlisle chuckled, grabbing a sticky note and writing on it, handing it to Y/n. “I have got to stay late but here’s my address. You can go give him it now or later.”

Y/n nodded, giddy with the excitement of finally getting away from the burden of having to return the coat. “You’ll be fine here without me?” she asked cautiously before she got too excited.

Carlisle nodded. “Yes, go give my son his coat. And tell him he needs to wear it more often.”

The Cullen’s house was beautiful at night. A mansion buried in the woods, it seemed so serene. Y/n wished she lived there so she could gaze out of the many lit up windows and into the forest. But there was no time for daydreaming about the lush scenery, Y/n was on a mission. She held the grey fabric tightly as she stepped out of the car, nervously approaching the door. She hadn’t heard of anyone going to the Cullen’s house, was she the first from her school? She was nervous as she approached the door, about to knock when the door opened, revealing a small teen with a dark pixie cut. Was it Alexa Cullen? Y/n wasn’t too sure on their names.

“Edward, a cute girl is here for you!” The girl, possibly named Alexa, shouted into the house. “You are here for Edward right?”

“Uh, yeah…” Y/n said awkwardly, looking to the ground and tightening her grasp on the jacket, looking at the pavement that was illuminated by the open door. After a few moments of silence the light disappeared and she looked up, her eyes meeting Edward’s piercing amber ones that seemed to know her deepest secrets.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds at it” the girl chimed, closing the door and locking Edward outside.

“Sorry about my sister Alice, she’s a little…odd” Edward trailed off, looking to the side. Y/n was glad to know the name of the girl before, but also happy to just look at Edward, as creepy as it sounded. He looked perfect as always, hardly a strawberry blonde hair out of place, and those that were just made him look more perfect. Y/n could feel herself falling hard. Ever since the night he helped her out he seemed irresistible.

“It’s fine…” Y/n replied, the two sitting in silence for a while before Y/n remembered her task. “Oh here, I came to bring you your coat. So, uh, yeah..” She pressed the balled up grey coat into his hands. “Carlisle said you need to wear it more.”

Edward let out a chuckle. “I guess I’ll have to…” he stared at the grey fabric as if it would tell him what to say next.

“So I’ll go then?” Y/n said, though it sounded like a question. She didn’t want to bother him more than needed and began so walk away, pausing only when she heard his voice.

“Wait, before you go. Dinner, Friday, at eight? To make up for the effort you put in giving me my jacket back.” Y/n felt butterflies fly through her stomach, wondering if he possibly liked her back.

“Dinner… sounds good…” Y/n blushed with a smile to the ground, waiting for him to go back inside before giddily running back to her car. “I got a date with Edward Cullen!” She sang to herself as she pulled out of the driveway, oblivious to her crush smiling inside the house at her thoughts.

#edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #twilight x reader #twilight renaissance #twilight saga #twilight

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