#then again the only time i ever made it through all of inktober was when i had the worst work schedule of my life. so maybe this works | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

acreepqueen · 4 years

Text

Inktober 2020 |Day 1: Fish|

Eek! Guess I’m doing Inktober this year! This isn’t the best thing I’ve ever written but, I really hope you guys enjoy this.

Word Count: 1,679

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

You had never been much of a believer in anything you couldn’t see or prove. Even then, you were prone to doubt something you couldn’t explain. That was why, when the aquarium in town had announced it was revealing a newly discovered species, you were skeptical to say the least. The information they had released to the public was limited, but there was talk in the town of it being something monstrous. You’d scoffed at the idea but your curiosity was peaked. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to take a trip to the aquarium. You knew you’d enjoy the species they for sure had even if this new thing turned out to be a bust.

The crowds at the exhibit’s debut were surprisingly large, though not entirely unexpected. After all, it had been the talk of the town since it was announced. You slipped through the hoard with only slight difficulty. Before long, you were able to see the exhibit. It was odd that there was a barrier put up to keep people away from the glass. The enclosure itself was rather ominous. It wasn’t as well lit as the other tanks and it was huge. You were pretty sure it could comfortably house a whale. Still, it was unnerving that you didn’t see anything but a couple small fish and a manta ray. You eyes scanned the crowd around you for any workers, but you didn’t have time to find anyone.

Murmurs from the people around you suddenly quieted and you glanced back at the tank in slight confusion. You gasped as your eyes met a pair startlingly similar to yours. Although, with a start, you realized that the face of what ever you were looking at was much bigger than yours. You froze unsure what to do or feel as you watched the creature. Never had you seen something quite like it. It looked humanoid, the biggest difference being the giant fish tail in place of legs. On the tail, the scales were a murky black and sharp looking spines ran down it. What at first you had thought was hair you soon realized was a mass of tentacles on the creature’s head. Its eyes were pitch black voids which made it impossible to tell where, if at all, it was looking. Though, the your main concern lay with the creature’s mouth. Teeth that made shards of broken glass look soft sat in its mouth. You gulped slightly as you watched the thing move. It looked agitated to say the least.

Within moments the silence of the crowd was broken by jeering and the sounds of cameras clicking. Many had neglected to see or follow the many posted signs stating to turn off your camera flash. You winced as the creature bared its teeth. Something in your gut churned as people continued to ignore the rules. One young girl ducked under the banister and walked up to the glass. She stood about a foot away and turned her back to the tank. She smiled, posing briefly for a picture.

You saw what was going to happen moments before it did. Without thinking you slid under the banister and pushed the girl often the side as it slammed into the glass baring its teeth once more. No one in the crowd behind you missed the loud smash, but with the blood rushing in your ears you didn’t hear it at first. You turned to the tank only to see two huge cracks stretching out from the places where the creatures hands had smacked into the glass. You felt a chill run through you. The glass was a couple of inches thick and it had been cracked as if it were nothing.

Most everyone had run away by now, but you couldn’t make your legs move. You stood frozen in place making direct eye contact with a humanoid sea monster twice your size. Okay, yeah. This is not how you had planned your day to go. To your surprise it didn’t continue breaking the glass, instead it put its hands on it looking at you in a way you could only describe as curious. Still, you didn’t trust the look in its eyes. It blinked and that was all you needed to snap out of it. You slipped back behind the banister but continued to watch the creature. It was still watching you with interest, hands pressed up against the glass. You took some time to study it more closely. Its skin was a dark greyish blue hue that reminded you vaguely of the deep deep ocean. The more you looked at it the more it looked emaciated and even a bit sickly. Though, maybe that was just how this species typically looked. Afterall, this was the first time you’d ever seen one.

Hesitantly you waved at the creature. With its sharp, boney fingers it waved back mimicking you. You couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto your face. It once again copied you, smiling back. Feeling more than a little amused you stretched backwards with your arms behind your head and it copied you again. You were getting ready to try something else when a voice behind you caused you to jump.

“Amazing. I’ve never seen em’ do that. Typically he’s pretty damn mean, that one,” a worker stated, looking at you incredulously. You weren’t sure what to say but the creature bared its fangs at the worker beside you and swam away. Only peeking out at you briefly from behind a large piece of coral behind ducking down again.

“He don’t like me one bit, I tell ya. Won’t take nothin’ I give em’. Spiteful lil’ retch would rather starve to death than eat the food I’ve got!” He ranted. You grimaced but listened on politely. So you were right about the creature looking unhealthy.

“We’re gettin’ real desperate now. Everyone’s had a go at takin’ care of em’ but he’s just hateful. Ricky had to get stitched up after he got a little too close to em’.”

You weren’t sure you liked where this conversation was going. If you were about to be asked to do what you thought you were going to, you weren’t sure if you could refuse. You didn’t want the creature to starve to death and it would probably be a once in a lifetime opportunity. Although, you didn’t really have a death wish either.

“Maybe you’d like to give it a go?” the worker asked hopefully. You frowned slightly and he piped up.

“I’m sure they’d pay ya good money if they know he’ll take food from ya!” he encouraged. You glanced back at the tank, more specifically the large cracks in the glass. Looking back towards the coral your eyes locked with a pair of sunken black ones. To hell with it.

“Okay, fine. But I’ll for sure sue if I get seriously hurt,” you agreed staring down the worker. He clapped his hands excitedly and thanked you, before he practically dragged you along.

The nerves hit you like a trainwreck the moment a bucket of dead fish was placed at your feet. You stood a couple of feet away from the open tank absolute terrified. This was such a bad idea and you were totally going to get yourself killed.

“Now, just scootch a lil bit closer to the tank and call for em’,” the man instructed. You inched forward on trembling legs with the bucket in your hand. Dead fish was certainly not a pleasant smell.

“H-hey,” you called softly. Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“He’s not gonna hear ya if-” the man cut himself off when a head peeked out of the water. God, up close he seemed so much bigger. You wanted nothing more than to bolt in that moment but you kept your feet planted firmly.

“Hi, I have food,” you stately lamely gesturing towards the fish. The creature upturned his nose at the bucket and you couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh.

“M-maybe something fresher would be better...?” you inquired towards the worker. He shook his head.

“Nah, his kind clean off carcasses normally. We can’t feed em’ rotten fish though, they’re afraid it might hurt em’,” the worker explained. Your eyes widened a smidge, but that would certainly explain the teeth. You picked up a fish from the bucket and took a step towards the creature.

“I know it’s not what you normally eat, but you have to eat something. I don’t want you to die...” you trailed off, unsure why you were trying to converse with it in the first place. To your surprise it placed its hands onto the side and laid its head down on top of it. It still watched you warily but it didn’t seem malicious. Slowly, you set the bucket down and pulled out a fish watching it all the while for any sort of sign it might want to hurt you. You cautiously walked over to it and held out the fish. It snarled and you flinched, but stayed rooted in place. With what sounded like a heavy sigh it took the fish and plunged back into the tank with it. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and turned back to look at the caretaker. His mouth was agape and he looked stunned.

Finally, he asked, “Why didn’t you just throw the fish!? The hell were you thinking!? Why was he so gentle?! He won’t let anyone get within a foot of that tank!” he didn’t seem like he knew whether he should scold or applaud you. You just grimaced and let the man talk your ear off for a moment. Eventually, you swapped contact information and he said that he’d set up a time for you to be interviewed tomorrow. You weren’t sure the legality of all this, but you’d been meaning to find a new job for a while now. If it meant working at an aquarium with a potentially dangerous sea monster, so be it.

#inktober #inktober 2020 #exophilia #monster lover #merman #mermaid #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #writing #acreepqueen #I may or may not have drawn this

422 notes · View notes

demomonic-murmurs · 4 years

Text

[K]inktober Day 2: Threesome [Kiyoko&Yachi]

Content: NSFW, Sexual Content, Threesome, Reader is Kiyoko's girlfriend and they teach Yachi about the beauty of gals being pals

Warning: Sexual Content, F/F/F

"We wouldn't have invited you here if we didn't want you to be part of this Hitoka. Please stop asking if we are certain."

Yachi shut her mouth and nodded. She was blushing, her entire face, ears and neck coated in a lovely red hue. The small girl felt as if she was about to pass out.

"If you feel uncomfortable with anything, tell us okay?", [Name] said while winking at her, though her usual easygoing demeanor had a more serious underlying tone to it. She was serious.

"Got it", Yachi stuttered out, "So uh... how do you usually... start?" She felt awkward. Being in the presence of the cool beauty Shimizu Kiyoko was embarrassing enough but the teasing flirt [Name] [Last Name] as well?

[Name] laughed.

"We usually start by kissing. The slobby sensual wet kind of kiss. Have you ever kissed anyone Hitoka?"

Hitoka felt another wave of heat spread over her face. She shyly shook her head.

"No... not really."

"Would you like to see a real kiss then? Come closer and watch."

Yachi did just that, shuffling closely to the spot where Kiyoko and [Name] were kneeling on [Name]'s bed, which was a lot bigger than Yachi ever thought a bed could be, fitting all three of them.

[Name] smirked and leaned forward, never breaking eye contact with Yachi as she pressed her lips to Kiyoko's, softly at first before getting rougher.

"Come Shimizu open your mouth, give cute lil Hitoka a show will you", [Name] breathed out against her girlfriend's lips.

Kiyoko huffed in annoyance but complied, opening her mouth. [Name] moved back and placed her thumb on her bottom lip before tracing the outline. The black haired beauty understood, her tongue darting out and giving the thumb a lick. Satisfied, [Name] moved back in, her hand trailing down to grab Kiyoko's face and holding it in place, her mouth still hanging ajar.

The wet sound of tongues moving against each other made Yachi whimper. She had never seen such a blatan display of sexual desire, much less expected, especially not from her upperclassman and her girlfriend.

Kiyoko let out a moan- even her moan was that of a Goddess, Yachi noted- and her thighs rubbed against each other. [Name] began kissing even harder than before, her passion completely dominating her girlfriend and nudged her leg in between hers, [Name]'s knee rubbing against her pussy which was obscured by nothing but her panties and skirt, which was riding up even further.

[Name]'s free hand sneaked under Kiyoko's shirt and she began palming her girlfriends chest over her bra.

Yachi let out a noise. This was unbearably hot. Was this what girls love meant? Seeing her upperclassman at the complete mercy of a pretty woman... did something to her.

[Name] pulled back, a pleased glint in her eyes as she watched her girlfriend gasp for air, a string of sailva connecting their lips.

"I think we are all way too overdressed for this", [Name] said as she began to strip, beckoning Yachi and Kiyoko to do the same.

"Keep your bra and panties on. I ought to show Yachi how to unpack the treat", Kiyoko's girlfriend murmured which earned her an eye roll from the girl herself.

Yachi began to shakingly unbutton her blouse. Was she really about to get naked with them?

She looked down on herself, disappointed at the fact that she was wearing embarrassingly innocent looking polka dot panties with a matching bra, but found comfort in [Name]'s mismatched pair of a sports bra and superman panties.

Kiyoko however looked like an Amazon pulled straight out of a comic book. She wore a pair of matching lace lingerie which complemented her curves. Her body was lean and slightly muscular from all the sport she did. In the center of her panties, a dark spot was forming.

[Name] whistled.

"You even got your lingerie out for this special occasion babe? All dolled up for cute little Hitoka? I would be hurt if you wouldn't be just so smoking hot."

That compliment earned her a little slap from Kiyoko on the back of her head, before directing her attention at Yachi.

"Do you want to kiss me Hitoka?"

Her voice was soft and quiet, an adorable blush forming on her cheeks. Yachi choked on air but nodded enthusiastically.

Kiyoko leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on Yachi's lips. One of her hands moved to her nipples and began circling around it while the other moved south, stopping just slightly above Yachi's golden pubic hair. Her pussy twitched in anticipation.

Kiyoko kissed her again, harder this time, mimicking the movements [Name] used earlier, her index finger brushing slightly over her clit, which made Yachi's jump in surprise, a jolt of pleasure running through her body. The hand paused momentarily as the other began to squeeze nipple. Yachi moaned into the kiss and arched her back, giving Kiyoko the advantage to deepen it.

Kiyoko rested her thumb on top of Yachi's sensitive clit while her index finger began moving along her hole, coating her pointer in Yachi's glistening juice. She pressed one finger into her softly, testing the waters and gave her a few moments to adjust. Yachi let out another whimper.

No one had ever touched her this way, she hadn't even touched herself this way. Whenever she had masturbated, she was too scared of the actual sticking part, so most of the time she had settled to humping against a pillow until she came.

Kiyoko picked up the pace, a second finger joining her first plunging in and out of Yachi's soft core. She broke the kiss and trailed kisses down her neck before taking her unoccupied nipple into her mouth, sucking on it. Yachi let out a loud moan, subconsciously pressing her body closer to Kiyoko, grinding her pussy against her hands.

Kiyoko twitched and moaned, driving her fingers even deeper into Yachi, the vibrations around her nipple almost enough to drive her over the edge.

[Name] had settled behind Kiyoko. Her bra was only hastily pulled down, granting [Name] access to her breasts. She was fondling them roughly, pinching her nipples between her thumb and index finger, while trailing down violent love bites down her neck, sucking on the skin to leave purple bruises.

"You two are so mean", [Name] pouted, pausing to lick over a particularly ruthless mark, "Especially you Shimu... I am your girlfriend you know yet...", one of her hands moved towards her panties, "You're so close to unraveling just from pleasing your cute little junior."

Kiyoko moaned in response as [Name] continued her ministrations, which was enough to send Yachi over the edge. With a loud yelp, she came, her nectar drenching Kiyoko's hand. The blonde fell back, exhausted, chest heaving as she attempted to catch her breath.

"How adorable. And fitting. You two came together. And here I am not even close. So incredibly mean you are Kiyoko. Come on, give me a taste of her", [Name] laughed and through teary eyes, Yachi could see her pulling Kiyoko closer to her and sucking on the digits that had been inside of her not too long ago.

Yachi felt her pussy twitch weakly from arousal. Kiyoko may had had her dominated, but in the hands of [Name] she remained beaten, looking weak at best.

[Name], still seated behind Kiyoko leaned her head over her shoulder, dropping her gaze down.

"God you're so hot Kiyoko these are completly drenched. You came so much even the mattress underneath has a dark spot."

Kiyoko let out a squeak when [Name] let her hands trail along her waist and lifted her ever so slightly, spreading her legs, making the mess apparent.

"I really don't get your obsession", Kiyoko huffed, obviously embarassed.

"Hitoka does though", [Name] replied, smirking, "besides you are in no position to protest. I've really been lenient on you haven't I? It seems like it since you've forgotten your manners."

[Name] made eye contact with Yachi who had recovered from her orgasm (her first, she thought, with another person that is) and gave her a sweet smile, which was unfitting given the circumstances.

"Hitoka sweetie do you mind pulling off her panties for me?"

Yachi shook her head dumbly, crawling forward on shaking knees between Kiyokos legs and slowly began pulling her panties off.

"Look at it. It's sticking to your pussy babe. That's how much you came", [Name] cooed as Kiyoko let out a whimper.

With trembling fingers, Yachi handed [Name] the panties who inspected them in satisfaction.

"Truly beyond drenched. You smell as good as always baby. Come on taste yourself, you will accept at least some punishment for neglecting your girlfriend right?"

Kiyoko nodded hastily against [Name]'s shoulder and Yachi could see her pussy twitch. Was she ... getting turned on by this again?

"Then you know what I want. Open your pretty mouth will you?"

Kiyoko complied, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out. [Name] smirked and, ensuring that she could get a good taste of herself, stuffed the panties into her mouth. The black haired girl choked before moaning, her eyes rolling back in her head.

"I am not done with you yet. Lay back down and spread your legs, wanna eat you out and make you squirt."

Kiyoko nodded, leaning her back against the soft mattress and spreading her legs as much as she could, leaving her pussy bare.

[Name] kneeled in front of her, her eyes glistening like a predator that just caught its prey.

"She is cute when she gets like this, isn't she Hitoka? Our usually so composed and picture perfect manager coming into her panties untouched and then liking to have her pretty mouth stuffed with them? She likes the taste of herself but never admits to it", [Name] laughed, more to herself than anyone else, "Can you imagine that there is nothing she loves more than cumming again and again while being marked up? Maybe I should buy you a collar and make you my dog in heat officially, don't you think?"

Kiyoko nodded her head and tried to agree, though her words only came out as a muffled jumble. Tears were beginning to form at the corner of her eyes.

[Name] smirked and leaned over to Yachi.

"What do you think your precious little volleyball club would say to this? Poor little boys wouldn't be able to handle it now would they?"

Yachi shook her head. They wouldn't. She was barely able to. Seeing the usually reserved Kiyoko being reduced to a fumbling mess was a fascinating process to watch. She was convinced [Name] was some kind of sorceress.

"Hitoka", she spoke, louder than before, "do you think, if given some pointers, you could try to eat me out as well? Observe me with Kiyoko first and if you feel up for the task... I'd gladly spread my legs for you."

"Yes! I mean I can try! I will try", Yachi said, nodding eagerly. Was this the power of the embrace of two woman? Making her brain all fuzzy like that?

[Name] smiled and pressed an affectionate kiss towards her cheek. She sank down between Kiyoko's legs, pressing kisses against her thigh and occasionally biting down before stopping in front of her pussy. She grinned devilishly and blew air against it, relishing in how Kiyoko squirmed at the contact and throbbed. [Name] surged forward and buried her tongue between her folds, her finger searching for the sensitive bundle of nerves and began to pleasure her. She flicked her fingers against Kiyoko's clit which earned her a high pitched scream, only muffled by her lace panties.

Yachi could only watch in amazement, one of her fingers wandering between her own legs. Seeing Kiyoko writhe in pleasure like that only caused her arousal to spike up again, the familiar heat from earlier returning. This continued for a few moments and the room was quiet except for the wet noises and muffled moans and groans.

Without a warning, Kiyoko pressed her back against the mattress again and wrapped her legs around [Name]'s head, thighs squishing it and pulling her as close as possible, burying her nose in her short, well kept, black pubic hair. She trashed before her legs slacked and twitched as she came down from another high.

[Name] leaned back, dissatisfied, and rested her hands on her knees.

"That simply won't do. Though you now have a basic understanding of it, don't you Hitoka?", she asked while casually lapping Kiyoko's juice from her face.

"Another round it is then. Try it out yourself now, you can finger yourself Hitoka."

"Sure but... didn't she just... cum?", Yachi said, getting quieter as the sentences progressed.

[Name] laughed. "Oh you're precious. Good girls get a break. Shimizu hasn't been a good girl. I asked her to squirt for me and I will keep making her cum until she does. Its only reasonable, isn't it? Now come on, get that cute head between my legs will ya? Maybe if Shimizu takes too long and passes out from pleasure I will eat you out too", [Name] spoke, her head already between Kiyoko's legs again.

Ah, Yachi thought, so this was the beauty of girls love.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#shimizu kiyoko #hitoka yachi #yachi x kiyoko #yachi x reader #yachi x y/n #hitoka yachi x reader #kiyoko x reader #kiyoko x y/n #shimizu kiyoko x reader #kinktober 2020

204 notes · View notes

purpleandgreen13 · 3 years

Text

Stardew Valley Inktober 2021

Inspired by @buttonso 's SDV Inktober list, I'm writing a one shot every day for October. I have done 4 already (the fifth will be later today) but thought I would post them here too.

October 1st Junimo

Inspired by the Star Trek original series 'The Trouble with Tribbles'

Dammit Lewis, I’m a doctor not a vet.” Grumbled Doctor Harvey at his clinic where he, Marnie and Mayor Lewis are stood looking the five tiny figures laying in a large cardboard box on the examination table. They are covered in scratches and making distressed cooing noises.

“Please Dr Harvey?” Pleads Marnie, her eyes filling with tears, “I found them in the barn, the cows didn’t mean to rough them up, they were just curious.”

“What are you doing with these creatures anyway Marnie? Junimo’s import to Ferngill is strictly controlled.” Doctor Harvey peers over his glasses.

Marnie looks shifty all of a sudden and Mayor Lewis shuffles uncomfortably, “Lewis got me a special license!” Marnie protests a little too loudly, “We’re breeding them as pets. Look how cute they are! People are going to love them!”

“You are aware of their other reputation?” Harvey asks, “They’re prodigious breeders. They can have up to seven litters a week and they’re banned in some places. In the wild they have plenty of predators but in domestic situations you can easily get overrun."

“Please Doc. We can make it worth your while.” Lewis wheedles.

“Lewis. I don’t want your money, except for the medical bills. I don’t like seeing any creature in pain. Leave them with me, I’ll make sure they’re well looked after and I’ll patch up their wounds, give them a course of antibiotics and they should be right as rain in about four days.”

“Thank you so very, very much, Doctor Harvey.” Marnie gushes with relief as she clutches Harvey’s hand. Harvey frowns. This is very much against his better judgement, but the animals need care and he WAS the closest thing this town had to a vet, he supposed.

Once Marnie and Lewis left, Harvey lifted the blanket covering the box.

“Oh Yoba.” He muttered quickly lowering the blanket again. Already the junimos, which he had to grudgingly admit were cute, were In flagrante delicto, busy at work in the cardboard box creating the next generation of apple-like creatures.

Harvey mused that the small animals were getting more action than most people in the valley, including him.

He fetched his medical equipment and carefully lifted each Junimo out of the box, whenever one was free from its activities. Each one squeaked in protest as Harvey checked it over, applied antiseptics to cuts and grazes, then administered antibiotic in a small pipette to each of the five Junimos. They’d need a few days care, but they were mostly badly shaken up. They would all be fine, he was confident.

He supposed he should separate them into males and females, but honestly, Harvey had absolutely no way of telling them apart, so he left the blanket on the box after giving them some guinea pig food provided by Abigail and a bowl of water, and retired for the night.

Maru was first in the clinic the next morning and when Harvey entered the reception area, still a little bleary-eyed from sleep, she looked furious.

“What- what’s up Maru?” Harvey asked nervously.

“Why are you keeping so many animals in such a tiny space Doc? It’s downright cruel!”

“What are you talking about?”

There are almost 50 Junimos squished into a cardboard box in the hospital section! I can’t believe you left them like that? You do know it’s illegal to keep them without a license?” “Fif-FIFTY? Harvey suddenly felt a bit faint. “There were only 5 yesterday!”

Well, there’s about 50 of them now. We’ll need to find them better housing.”

After searching through the clinic for boxes big enough to house 50 Junimos, Maru makes a decision, that Harvey mutely agrees with.

They let the Junimos loose in the hospital wing of the clinic, leaving them food and water. At the end of the day locking the door behind him, Harvey couldn’t help but feel he’d made a terrible mistake.

‘Junimos reach sexual maturity within 24 hours of birth’, he read in one of his encyclopaedias, ‘as beings who derive their bright coat colouring from magic in the air around them, they live relatively short lives and breed as much as they can to ensure survival of the species. The magic that sustains them, makes them attractive to female junimos also kills them. Their twin purposes in life are to procreate and eat.’

In the morning there were more than 500 Junimos on the hospital wing. Maru could barely open the door and then could not close it. There were junimos everywhere, in the pharmacy cupboards, under every chair in the waiting room. Maru found two in the drawer of the till.

Harvey was going spare. His beautiful clean, sterile clinic had turned into a zoo. He coped as well as he could, but that evening, he called Lewis in a panic. His first attempt to pick up his phone he picked up a Junimo instead, he swept 7 of them off his chair in his office. Several of them piled on his warm lap once he sat down. There were several of them sleeping on the examination table. The noise of Junimo mating was cacophonous.

“Hello!” He bellowed into the phone when Mayor Lewis picked up. “LEWIS! It’s Harvey here! You’re going to have to do something about these Junimos! There’s hundreds of them!” “Sorry Doc! I can’t hear you! Are you having a party? I will come and pick up those Junimos from you on Friday! You said 4 days for the antibiotics to work didn’t you? I’ll see you then!” and with that the line goes dead.

Harvey has had enough. He wades through the Junimos lining the stairs to his apartment, grabs his jacket from the hook behind the door, empties the pockets of Junimos that have settled there, and makes his way gingerly out of the clinic and to the saloon. He stays far later than he should and he dreams in junimos the entire night.

Wednesday is hell. Exponential Junimo growth means that every surface is covered with squeaking, breeding and pooping animals with no regard for Harvey’s cleaning routines. He opens his kitchen cupboard for his coffee mug and is rewarded by e seemingly never-ending shower of small apple like creatures bouncing off his head and scurrying away. He tries to count them but here are far too many. That night he goes hungry because there is not a crumb of food in the house. When he climbs into his bed, he is surrounded by the creatures, cocooned in a kind of living Junimo blanket. The sleeping creatures start snoring. By itself a junimo snoring is a sweet sound, like sighing, but by the thousand, the noise is deafening.

When Maru arrives on Thursday morning, Doctor Harvey is a broken man. She pushes the door of the clinic open with some difficulty, the sheer weight of the creatures holding back the door.

Harvey is seated behind the counter, asleep, head in arms, dishevelled and unshaven. Junimos on his lap, his shoulders, in every one of his pockets. The squeaking and chirruping is so loud that Maru has to cover her ears as she approaches the sleeping man covered in the apple creatures.

“Doc!” She shouts above the row. “Doc!”

Harvey jolts awake. The junimos on his lap fall off, but are replaced with many more, jostling for a place on the doctor’s warm knees.

“I’ve brought someone who might help!”

Through the mounds of apple shaped bodies Harvey can just about make out a large cowboy hat and a purple beard. He scoffed to himself, the crazy guy from the tower? What was he going do here? Set traps? Give them all contraceptives. (Harvey had already considered it, but he calculated that the cost would be more than he made in a year).

With some difficulty the self-proclaimed wizard moved to the wall of the waiting room and in chalk drew a large circle with undecipherable symbols within its parameters. He yelled one word “Quiet!” Which made Harvey and Maru both jump. Surprisingly, the Junimos still and there is peace in the clinic for the first time in days.

He grinned at the medical staff, “Couldn’t hear myself think in here.”

Harvey has to keep himself from rolling his eyes when the wizard gets out a wand. Seriously? He’s muttering something that Harvey can’t quite catch and is sure is gibberish. He almost wants to laugh when the man turns around and makes an extravagant gesture with his arm. Harvey takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, feeling overwhelmingly tired. When he opens his eyes again, the Junimos are gone.

He blinks. Not a single Junimo remains.

The place is a mess however. Chairs are overturned, the plants have all been eaten. Magazines shredded. Harvey dared not look at the damage in his neat pharmacy and sterile hospital room.

“Where did they go?” He stammers, his entire belief system shaken.

The Wizard smiles enigmatically, “Somewhere I think they should be.” With a dramatic swirl of his cape, he exits, leaving Harvey and Maru to clean up the mess. Harvey thinks he can smell sulphur, but blames his overtired fevered brain.

**~~**~~**

In the Mayoral Manor, Lewis is doing his weekly book work for the town finances. A little bit off the top here and a little added to his own bank account. No-one ever asks to check the books. The amounts would not be missed.

There is a flash and suddenly Lewis is surrounded by small apple shaped creatures. They’re everywhere. A heaving mass of Junimos covers the floor and already some of the creatures are getting into his food cupboards, locust-like they start to methodically eat everything they come across.

Over in the clinic, broom in hand, Harvey swears he can hear screaming coming from Lewis’s house.

#stardew valley #stardew harvey #stardew valley harvey #sdv harvey #sdvharvey #harvey sdv #harvey stardew valley #sdv #inktober2021 #inktober #SDV Inktober #Stardew Valley fanfic

6 notes · View notes

alarawriting · 4 years

Text

52 Project #29: The Last Boy (Inktober #11: Disgusting)

This is fanfic-adjacent; it’s an unauthorized sequel to Alice Sheldon (writing as James Tiptree Jr)’s story “The Screwfly Solution”. It is... less dark than that story, but if you’re familiar with it, that’s not saying much. (If you aren’t familiar, don’t worry, this story explains the backstory necessary.)

This is a horror story... or at the least, dark science fiction. (Nothing supernatural in this one.) I am not tagging any of the triggers inside because spoilers, which are destructive to a horror story, but I will include them at the end, which is below the cut. If you rapidly scroll through the story you can reach the trigger list without actually reading any of the story.

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

Roy is very excited, running, practically skipping, ahead on the trail. “Uncle Matt! This is great! I can see the woods up ahead already!”

Matt forces a smile, because he’s very much afraid of how this expedition might end, but he has to try. He has to have hope. “Sure is. Ready to go hunting?”

“You bet!” Roy turns around and flashes Matt a big, heartwarming smile. His face is pocked with acne and he’s late to have lost his last baby tooth; it’s a gap on the upper left side of his face. He looks so young, so boyish. Which he is; he’s thirteen. Thirteen is still a kid. Matt’s sixty; thirteen’s practically a baby to him. They grow up so damn fast. “You think we’ll bag a deer?”

“We might. Or we might bag a goose. Or we might come home empty-handed. The point to hunting is to be quiet and patient, and let nature bring to you whatever it will.”

They hike up to the tree line. This is one of very, very few forest areas that’s still being tended and managed by people. The rocky hiking trail up to the tree line’s been kept clear of scrub; there are bushes and tall grasses on either side of the trail, but nothing on the wide stretch of packed dirt.

From here Matt can look down the side of the mountain, to the acres planted with corn and wheat, the women working in the rows, a couple of men stationed to sit by the road with their guns, watchful for whoever might come by. He knows them both. Good boys. He took Evan out on a hunting trip like this one, ten years ago, and they came home with a deer and a couple of rabbits. Jase was called Lisa back then, and didn’t need to go on a hunting trip like this. The tradition of the hunting trip when you’re thirteen isn’t for the girls, or the gay boys, or the trans kids. Most of them resent that, until they get to be old enough to understand why.

“This is the best,” Roy says. “Just me and you, Uncle Matt. How long has it been since we got to just spend time together, just two men?”

“I think you were 10. We went out to the river and went fishing, didn’t we?”

“Yeah. I didn’t catch anything,” Roy laughs. “You got a couple of fish, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, smiling as he remembers. “Had to throw ‘em back, though. They were too small.”

“Why don’t we do stuff like that more often, Uncle Matt? Just hang out, without all these stupid girls around?”

Matt sighs. “You have school and I’ve got work; crops don’t grow themselves and we don’t get security by going on vacation.”

“Yeah, but why do we have to even live here? Why don’t we go live somewhere where there’s just men?”

“That’s a little hard to find. There’s not a lot of men around,” Matt points out.

“Because the stupid girls wouldn’t go to them and have their kids,” Roy mutters.

That is a disturbingly misleading viewpoint on what happened, but Matt tries to let it go, for the moment. “Hey. We need to keep quiet now,” he says softly. “If there’s any deer, we don’t want to scare them.”

Roy nods, and the two of them walk quietly into the forest.

***

Roy was such a sweet little boy.

Matt remembers him bringing the pictures he drew to Matt and to his mother – who Matt, despite being called uncle, is not actually related to; Matt is uncle to all the boys he takes under his wing – and being so enthusiastic about showing it to them. He remembers one of the pictures, of himself and Roy holding hands. Another, of Roy holding hands with his mom. Roy hasn’t had anything positive to say to his mother in weeks; he’s been disobeying her, insulting her, calling her stupid and saying he doesn’t have to listen to her because she’s just a woman.

It’s biological. Roy wasn’t raised to even have the concept of men somehow being better than women at anything or for any reason. Most of the boys develop the attitude around puberty, the result of a disease that infected the entire world over a century ago. Many of them get over it. Many don’t. Matt never suffered it at all; it’s linked to heterosexual desire, and Matt knew he was gay ever since he was nine.

He remembers Roy running around with a toy airplane, declaring that when he was grown up he would help restore humanity’s control of the skies, working to bring back the airplanes. He remembers Roy making him lemonade when he was six, cooking him an egg when he was ten. Roy making a card for his mother’s birthday with a big heart on it. Roy asking him what stars were made of.

It’s going to be all right, he tells himself. Evan was a little ass to his mom and his sisters, and it all worked out for him. Lebron actually punched his mom when he was fourteen, and he came through it. Roy’s going to be fine.

All the boys mean so much to him, but Roy is special… maybe because he’s the most recent one. Matt hasn’t been working with the little boys so much, lately. There’s enough men in the settlement now that the younger men, with more energy, are taking up more of that role. When Matt himself was a child, there were almost no men – Uncle Harry was the only cis man he’d known. Of the boys he grew up with, only Andrew, Tyrone and Jose were still there by the time he was an adult, plus Deandre who was trans and joined them in their late teens. He’d dated all of them except Deandre, who was straight. Ended up eventually with Cole, three years younger than him. Cole had a heart attack six years ago, and after that Matt couldn’t bear to open himself up to any of the new little boys, not without the emotional support of an adult man to share his life with. Roy has been the last one to call him Uncle.

“Uncle!” Roy hisses. “Is that a deer? Over there?”

Matt looks where Roy is pointing. “It could be,” he whispers back. “Let’s see.”

They walk closer, carefully, trying to be quiet. But Roy steps on a branch he doesn’t see. It snaps, and the vague outline that might be a deer startles and runs, proving that yes, it is a deer. Roy pulls out his gun and fires, but misses, predictably.

“Oh, son of a bitch!” Roy swears.

“What have we said about language?” Matt asks mildly.

“Come on, Uncle Matt. I’m not a baby anymore,” Roy protests. “Besides, I said ‘shit’ when I stubbed my toe on a rock on the way up here.”

“Yes, but ‘shit’ is disgusting and everyone makes it. ‘Bitch’ is an insult specifically for women, and calling something a ‘son of a bitch’ when you want to swear at it is basically saying that it’s the fault of mothers if their sons are terrible.”

“Well, who else’s fault would it be? Stupid b – stupid women don’t know anything, but they act like they know everything.”

“I think that’s a little bit of an overgeneralization. I know you’re not getting along with your mother lately—”

“She just makes me so mad. She’s always telling me what to do! Like she knows everything!”

“She is your mother,” Matt says mildly. “And she’s twenty-five years older than you. That does tend to make people know more than you.”

“Yeah, but not her. She really doesn’t know anything. Sometimes I just wanna punch her.”

“That happens to a lot of boys at puberty, but they get over it. By the time you’re twenty-five, you’ll be amazed at how smart your mother has suddenly become.” He smiles at Roy.

Roy glowers. “I don’t think so. Girls are just disgusting. I just want to hang out with men, like you. You’re not a dumbass, Uncle Matt. All the girls are dumbasses, but the guys aren’t.”

“That’s the hormones talking. You’ll get over it.” Matt points at the ground. “Do you see that?”

“No, what?”

“Tracks. For the deer.” Matt crouches down and points them out to Roy. “We can see what direction it went in, now.”

“Oh, yeah! I can see it now!” Roy starts to run, but Matt holds him back by the shoulder.

“Roy. Slow. Patient. Quiet. The deer can run faster than you or me, but it burns more energy doing that. If we walk, we catch up with it, because it’s got to rest. But if it hears us, it’ll run again. So we walk, and we’re quiet.”

“Right. I get it, Uncle Matt.” Roy is much more quiet and careful about where he puts his feet after that.

***

When Roy was eight, Matt walked the fields with him and showed him how to sow corn. They went to the vegetable plots and planted carrots and lima beans. Roy was so proud the day they harvested his carrots, and he got to eat one. Matt took him fishing the first time, that same year.

The little boys are always so sweet, so bright, so full of promise. It hurts so much when they don’t fulfill it.

Please, God, let Roy be all right. Let him get past this. Of course he would. Matt has been training him, teaching him since he was small (but there were others, other boys Matt had loved like his own sons, who he’d trained and taught, and they weren’t around here anymore).

He should have been around more often in the last three years. Roy was heading for puberty and that scared Matt. Still does. He visits the boy often, but Roy is right – they haven’t done anything together, just the two of them, in a long time.

“You ever spend any time with any of the young men? Jase, or Evan, or Fred?”

“Yeah, sometimes. I hang out more with the guys closer to my age. You know any of them? Steve, Paolo, Rafael?”

“Sure, yeah, I know them.”

“Paolo has a dad,” Roy says enviously. “When I grow up I want to be a dad.”

“Well, you’re in luck, because humanity needs more men to be dads,” Matt says. “You can go live where they’re using your donation, if you really want to be a dad, and help to raise the kid you helped make, or you can stay here and help raise the boys as an uncle, and maybe go out and visit the places where they used your donations.”

“How come I can’t stay here and raise a boy here?”

“Genetic variation. If we let human men have sons with their sisters, we get inbreeding. All kinds of diseases. Sending your donations to the other compounds makes us strong and healthy as a species.”

“Did you ever donate, Uncle Matt?”

“Back in my day, if your balls worked you had to donate. We didn’t have enough men. You know old Gran Stacie, she had to donate too. She couldn’t take the hormones to look feminine until there was a safe compound for women to live in and plenty of donations so the human race could keep going.”

“She’s okay, I guess. But the other girls are really stupid and gross.”

Matt stops Roy there. “Hey. You keep saying that. It’s like you’ve forgotten everything we taught you about our history.”

“I remember history,” Roy protests.

“So tell me. Why do we live this way? Why do women live in secure compounds with only a few men? A hundred years ago the world was very different. Tell me how it was, and what changed.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. You do.” Matt sits on the ground, and gestures for Roy to sit across from him. “Come on. Tell Uncle Matt all about it.”

Roy rolls his eyes. “A hundred years ago men and women lived together but then there was a disease and it made the men sick and the sickness made them want to hurt women so they couldn’t live with women anymore, the end,” he says in a rapid sing-song.

“No. That shit doesn’t fly with me, kid, and you know it doesn’t. Tell it to me right.”

Roy sighs. “Okay, okay. So. Back then, women and men lived together all the time and every kid had a dad, and the men still took care of the women but there weren’t a lot of men trying to kill them, just one or two weird ones.”

Matt, being an adult, is aware of how far this is skewed off the truth of what life was like a century ago, but the boys are being raised with no awareness of historical misogyny. Nothing to give the disease any historical justification it can hook onto. They learn more details when they’re proven to be safe. “So far so good.”

“So back then, there was this thing we used to do to kill flies where we made the male flies wanna kill the female flies instead of mate with them.” This is also a distortion of the facts, but Matt lets it go as well. “Then suddenly, men were trying to kill women instead of having sex with them. But it was just the straight men who were affected and they had to have balls. Women weren’t affected even if they had balls, and gay men weren’t affected, and men who didn’t have balls weren’t affected, and men who didn’t want sex even though they had balls weren’t affected, but all the men who had balls and wanted to have sex with women wanted to kill the women. And a lot of the time, little girls or old women that no one wanted to have sex with, because they thought in their heads it was God telling them to kill women or something. They didn’t know the truth.”

“And what was the truth?”

“That it was aliens. They spread the virus around on Earth because they wanted humans to die, just like the flies, so they could take the Earth for themselves. But humans are more complicated than flies. So there were men who were affected too much, who killed little boys because little boys look like little girls, and there were men who weren’t affected as much, who’d killed their wives but they were trying to protect their little girls. And there were men who didn’t have sex with women even if they wanted to because they were trying to honor God or something, and those men could resist wanting to kill, because the wanting to kill thing was related to wanting sex. If they could resist one, sometimes they could resist the other. Plus, all the asexual men and the gay men and the trans men and other kinds of men without balls like castrated men, plus the trans women, who could fake being men so they could stay alive. And there were also a lot of women with guns, too.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, most of the women got killed, and the men who were doing the killing, they didn’t have any kids. But the women who survived, they went into compounds where all the women had guns and they would kill strange men who came near them. And a lot of the kinds of men who didn’t want to kill women would help women get to those compounds. They called them ‘allies.’ You’d have been one if you were alive in those days, Uncle Matt.” This is said proudly. Roy doesn’t realize how much Matt is still called on to be an ally, even today.

“I would have, yes. So how did we get where we are today?”

“A lot of the places were run by women who hated men even before they started killing women, called rads, and the rads were okay with women getting donations from ally men, but if they had boy babies they wanted to send the babies to live with the men or else throw them outside and kill them. And the moms didn’t want to do that and they thought it was stupid. So they made their own compounds and they let ally men live there. And if boys grew up and they didn’t want to kill women, then they were allowed to give donations and be dads. But if they did, then they couldn’t be dads and they couldn’t live there anymore.”

So much heartbreak, so much agony, skimmed over so neatly and briefly. Mothers pleading with their baby boys, grown to young men, not to do this, before the boy killed the mother… or the mother killed the boy, in self-defense. Entire compounds of women lost because some mother couldn’t bear to kill her son, so she locked him away instead… and he got out. Boys with the compulsion to kill sent to live with the femicidal men, only to be killed themselves, because there were no boys among the men anymore and the young boys were more feminine than anything the killer men had seen in years, by then. Or castrated, so that they would theoretically be safe to stay, except humans were complex and some of them retained the femicidal compulsion even in the absence of testicles, and the horror of boys everyone thought were safe suddenly murdering their sisters. Gay boys in love, their hearts shattered when their love interest proved to have enough interest in women that he became a killer.

They’re more careful now. Things like that don’t happen anymore.

“And the killer men thought that the aliens were like messengers from God or something, but the women and the ally men killed a lot of aliens. And when lots of aliens were dead, they realized that their plan to get Earth for themselves by making the humans die out from killing all the women wasn’t going to work, because humans are complicated. So we guess they changed their minds, because they left and no one has seen them since.”

“And that’s a good thing. We lost a lot of people when the aliens were willing to fight back in self-defense. If they’d had the stomach for it, they might have won, and humanity might have been wiped out. But, we assume, they weren’t willing to die to take our planet; they’d been trying to kill us off so they could have all the bounties of the Earth without doing any damage from removing us. If you try to settle in swampland and you try to kill all the mosquitoes, and instead the mosquitoes start killing you back, maybe you go find somewhere else to live.” Or maybe you come back, later, with a new plan… but humanity has collectively decided that, while it’s important to try to have contingencies for that possibility, it’s more important to rebuild humanity and reclaim what was lost. Matt worries about that, but it’s not something he can do anything about.

“You think they’re ever going to come back, Uncle Matt?”

Maybe. “No. We kicked their butts hard enough I’m pretty sure they’re gone forever. But they left us with this giant mess to clean up.” He sighs. “This stuff you’re feeling about how girls are stupid and irritating and you can’t stand being around them? That says, you’re in puberty and you’re going to grow up to be attracted to girls. Maybe guys too, but definitely girls. And the virus is waking up in you, trying to turn your desire for girls into hatred, but it doesn’t have to win. A lot of guys make it through this stage no problem, and never hurt anyone.”

“It doesn’t feel like a virus. It feels like they’re stupid and boring and gross and I hate them.”

“Of course it does. If it felt like a virus, the men a hundred years ago would have figured it out before they killed most of the women. It messes with your emotions, Roy. It takes feelings that are natural and normal, and twists them around. But if you understand that, then you don’t have to let it win.”

“Okay,” Roy said, and rocks backward, looking around him. “Can we go hunt for the deer now?”

“Sure, kid.” Matt gets to his feet. “We’re done here. You remember what they taught you about controlling your anger?”

“Yeah. Take deep breaths, take a step back from the situation, walk away if you hafta.”

“Right,” Matt says. “Let’s get a move on. That deer won’t shoot itself.”

***

They amble along through the woods. Another deer makes itself known, and Roy takes another shot, but misses. “Dammit! I was sure I had that shot!”

“I thought you did too,” Matt says. “But they move fast. You gotta be able to sneak up on them and shoot before they hear you coming.”

“Can you do that, Uncle Matt?”

“Used to. I’m older now; wouldn’t be surprised if the deer could hear the creak in my bones.” He grins.

And then they circle around a big rock, and there’s a girl.

She’s a teenager, about Roy’s age, maybe a little older. “Hi!” she says cheerfully. “I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone from around here! You’re from the compound down the mountain, right?”

Roy’s face twists into visible disgust, and he backs away. “That’s right,” Matt says calmly. “I’m Matt, and this is Roy.”

“My name’s Jennifer!” Jennifer has dark, wavy hair and tanned white-person skin. She’s wearing cutoff shorts, sneakers that have been patched many, many times – there are no companies that make goods from the old world like sneakers anymore – and a short-sleeved blue buttondown shirt that’s been tied up under her breasts to show her midriff, and opened in the front far enough to see her cleavage. When Matt was young, women were advised not to wear anything that could be arousing, because if they ran into a killer male, their life might depend on how much he was not turned on. By now, though, so many of the killer males are dead, and with women outnumbering men by three to one, the women and girls dress in whatever they want. It was never a good strategy for dealing with the killer males anyway; too many of them were willing to kill women dressed in nun robes, so it plainly had nothing to do with revealing clothes. There are numerous large lumps in her front pockets, which could be rocks, or animal bones, or any number of things.

Matt’s gay and far too old to see teenagers as anything other than young kids, but Roy is plainly very uncomfortable with Jennifer’s state of exposure. “What are you doing here?!” he half-shouts, angrily, at her.

“I’m from a compound on the other side of the mountain, and I hiked up here to try to collect mushrooms,” Jennifer says, her voice just a little bit too loud.

“Well, we’re hunting, so I’d like it if you could be a little quieter,” Matt says. “Don’t want to scare the deer.”

“Ooh! Hunting sounds fun! Can I join you?”

“No,” Roy says, loudly.

“Oh, come on!” Jennifer pouts. “I’ll be quiet!”

Matt takes in Roy’s trembling hands, the whiteness of his lips. Terror, or rage, or both. Roy’s expected to control himself no matter what the circumstances, but Matt… really doesn’t want to push him. Not now, when he’s so fragile. “Sorry, Jennifer, but Roy and I really came out for some uncle-nephew time. Maybe you can join us another time, but not now.”

Her eyebrows go up. “Huh,” she says. “Okay! I know a lot of guys like to go hunting with their dads or uncles when they’re thirteen. You’re thirteen, right?” This is directed to Roy.

“None of your business!” Roy snarls.

“Yeah, he’s thirteen,” Matt says tiredly. “Nice meeting you, Jennifer. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.”

“And maybe we won’t,” Roy mutters. He and Matt hike up the trail, away from Jennifer. “Good riddance.”

“I want you to think about this anger you’re feeling. It’s really out of proportion to the situation, isn’t it?”

Roy sighs. “Uncle Ma-att, I just wanna go hunting with you! I don’t wanna talk about my feelings!”

“Sure, but it’s safest for everyone if you do. What’re you supposed to do when you feel really angry?”

“I already took a step back from the situation! I told her to go away!”

“Didn’t hear any deep breaths,” Matt says.

Roy manages to deeply breathe sarcastically. It’s an impressive trick. Matt would never have thought it possible to breathe in a sarcastic way. Most of it’s with body language and facial expression, but there’s definitely a sarcastic note in the breath itself. “Now can we go find a deer?”

“Maybe we’d have better luck setting up a snare to trap rabbits.”

Roy’s whole body sags. “I wanted to bring home venison, Uncle Matt! Nobody cares if you bring home a rabbit!”

“All right,” Matt says mildly. “We’ll keep going.”

***

The forest is full of sound. Birds chirp and call. Squirrels and other animals rustle in the branches and bushes. Many of the sounds go silent as Matt and Roy approach, but not all. They come up into a clearing, someplace where someone, long ago, had a concrete pad. Most of it’s broken and destroyed, but there’s enough of it that even after a hundred years, the forest hasn’t completely taken it back.

And then there is the deer, quietly grazing on the other side of the clearing.

Matt whispers to Roy as he points it out. “Quiet, now.”

Roy nods. There’s a broken half-wall part of the way through the clearing, blocking the deer’s view of them if they go low. Matt and Roy crawl toward it. Once they’re behind it, Roy pokes his head up, very slightly, following Matt’s hand signals. He lifts his rifle. Quietly. The deer doesn’t stir.

Matt hears a tiny click. His eyes go wide and his blood runs cold.

Jennifer comes bounding into the clearing behind them. “Hi, guys! Didn’t think I’d run into—”

The deer leaps and runs off. Roy spins around, utter rage in his face, and screams, “You stupid bitch!”

“Roy, don’t—” Matt tries to grab Roy, tries to pull him down, throw off his aim, but it’s too late. The gun goes off, twice. Splotches of red explode on Jennifer’s chest, and she falls backward, twisting as she does so she lands on her front. Red oozes out from underneath her.

Roy drops the gun from fingers suddenly dead white and shaking. “I – I didn’t mean to – I was so angry--”

Wounds where the red had blossomed on Jennifer would be fatal; she’d bleed out almost immediately, and the quantity of red seeping out from under her body suggests that that’s what happened. It looks like a strike to the aorta, or the heart itself, maybe. Matt cannot stop himself. “No, no, no—”

“I’m sorry!” Roy screams. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry—”

Matt gets hold of himself. “Roy. Roy, come here. Come here, son.” He means it as an endearment – Roy is neither his literal son, nor has he raised the boy as a father – but it’s real as well. Roy is like a son to him. All of them have been, and he loves Roy so much, and his heart is shattering.

Roy collapses in his arms, sobbing. Matt holds the boy tightly with one arm. “It’s not your fault, Roy, it’s not,” he tells the crying child, tears welling in his own eyes. “It’s the virus. I know you didn’t mean to. I know you’re a good boy.”

“I’m so sorry—I just got so mad, and the gun was in my hand—”

“I know,” Matt says, as the boy’s wet face presses against his shoulder. “I know. I love you so much, Roy, you know that?”

“I love you too, Uncle Matt,” Roy says into Matt’s shirt, still sobbing, and a sob escapes from Matt’s chest as well as he raises his pistol with the arm that isn’t holding his nephew, his child, his son, the little boy who trusts him and loves him, and as Roy cries against his chest and cannot see what he’s doing with his other hand, he lifts the pistol to Roy’s temple, awkwardly, being sure not to touch him with it, and fires.

The sobs stop. After a moment they start again, but they’re only Matt’s.

Jennifer gets up. “I’m sorry, Matt,” she says quietly.

“Get the fuck out of my face,” Matt snarls. “You provoked him! I told you to back off! I told you we weren’t having you join us!”

“I have to do my job,” Jennifer says wearily, and there is no longer any mistaking her for a teenager, despite the expertly applied makeup on her face. She’s short, she looks young, and with the right makeup none of the boys ever guess she’s not a teenage girl. There’s red all over her shorts, soaking her legs and belly, from where the bags of fake blood in her pockets burst, and splotches of red over her heart and her liver. The paint pellets look horrifically real; they even smell like blood.

No, wait, that’s probably Roy’s blood he’s smelling.

"Fuck your job.” Matt holds his little boy in his arms, with both arms now that he doesn’t need one free anymore. “You pushed him. If we’d just given him a little more time – a little more training—”

“And who might he have killed while you were giving him a little more time? His mom? One of the girls his age?”

“He wouldn’t have had a gun!—"

“He could have had a rock. Or a steak knife. Or a baseball bat. I’m so sorry, Matt, but—”

“If you say ‘that’s the law’ or ‘those are the rules’ to me, I will hit you,” Matt snaps. “Not because you’re a woman, but because you’re a piece of shit.”

She sighs. “I know you’re distraught. It’s horrible, having to do this—”

“You didn’t even know him!” Matt screams. “You didn’t watch him when he was little, you didn’t teach him to tie his shoes, you didn’t play airplane with him – you didn’t—”

“I had a son,” Jennifer says sharply. “Don’t tell me I don’t know how much it hurts, when we have to—I was 16 when I had my son. It was six years ago that – that he took his test, at thirteen, and he failed it.”

“There’ve been so many,” Matt whispers. So many little boys. Slightly less than half of them pass; that’s why the ratio of women to men is around 2:1. He was so, so relieved when Blake turned out to be a girl and took the name Cassandra, twelve years ago; the trans kids are immune to the violent impulses. He’d known that Cassandra wouldn’t have to face the test, that he’d never have to take her on a hunting trip she might never return from. So relieved when Joe, eight years ago, reported himself gay at eleven and then showed no sign of aggression toward his mother or sister or any girls his own age.

But all the others. All the others, he’d loved, and they’d loved him, and trusted him, and he took them up the mountain on a hunting trip… with a gun that could only shoot paint pellets and blanks, and the paint pellets only after the bait’s radio transmitter came into range and switched it on.

Roy would never have bagged a deer with that gun. But if he hadn’t shot Jennifer, if he’d controlled himself and proved he could overcome his femicidal impulses, Matt would have “discovered” that there was no ammo in it, and given Roy a different gun, and then they could have had a real deer hunt. Like Evan, ten years ago. Like Jamal, five years ago. Like LeBron… how long ago had LeBron even been?

He’d already decided he wouldn’t take on any new little boys, after Cole died. Roy was the last one, the last child to shepherd to adulthood, the last he had to test. “God,” he cries, holding the little boy he’s just killed in his arms. “Why couldn’t you have let me have the last one? Why didn’t you give him the strength to overcome it?” He rocks the body back and forth. “Why did you let any of this happen? Why do you make us have to kill our sons?”

“God’s got nothing to do with this,” Jennifer says softly. “This is evil. If God allowed such evil as this to exist, then She’s not worth worshipping, and if She can’t stop it, then there’s no point in blaming her. It was the aliens.”

The aliens his ancestors drove off planet, who he’ll never have a chance to fight, or get revenge on. There’s no one he can blame who’s here. He understands the system, he understands the necessity. Little boys who try to commit femicide once don’t have the control to stop themselves from doing it again, and if it’s not the bait with her paint bags in her shorts and the radio transmitter to make the gun fire paint pellets, it’ll be a girl or women who really dies because the boy will have a real weapon. They can’t let the femicides live among them, and they can’t send them away to live with the few bands of roving femicidal men that still exist… the only reason those still exist was that once upon a time, femicidal sons were turned out into the wilderness. Where they could grow up to be bandits who invaded compounds, stole the food, and murdered the women. The men, too, because the men would defend the compound, but the women they’d hunt and kill for fun.

He would never have wanted a future like that for Roy. But he didn’t want this, either.

“I’m… I’m going to go. I’ll radio the compound and let them know the results of the test.”

“You do that,” Matt says bitterly. He knows his anger isn’t fair. He knows his attempt to drive Jennifer off, put off the test at the last minute and get her to come back another day so Roy could maybe develop stronger self-control first, was wrong. He knows it could have resulted in Roy murdering someone he loves. Loved. But how much better is it that Matt had to murder someone he loves? Why do they need to kill the teen boys to protect the women? Oh, he knows why, he signed on for this job years ago because he knew why, he’s seen what happened when a boy grew into a killer and turned on the women he knew. But why has God or Fate or Allah or whatever the fuck is up there listening to human prayers allowed this? Why is this horrible thing something that they are forced to do?

After what seems like hours, crying and holding Roy’s body and whispering how sorry he is, he’s finally out of tears. He looks down at his pistol. Cole’s dead six years on now, and there’s no man in his bed waiting for him, back home. There’s no little boy he’s working with, and there will never be one again. Is there anyone to care if he lives or dies, now? What if he ate a bullet, right now, so he could stop seeing Roy and Jason and Manuel and little Matt, named for him and he still shot him in the head while the boy was bent over the bait’s body, and all the others, all the boys who loved and trusted him, and failed the test he brought them into? Was there any good reason not to?

…there were the boys who’d lived. Adults now, all of them, but they loved and respected him as their old uncle, and they still were willing to spend time with him, sometimes. There were the girls, who yelled “Mister Matt! Mister Matt!” when they saw him and crowded around him, showing off their accomplishments, and he’d never have to take any of them up the mountain. There are trans boys who just figured it out, and need an older man to mentor them and teach them how to be a man, and none of them will ever need to go up the mountain either. There are the gay boys who want to talk to him about boyfriends, and how to date a guy, and how sex works, and all the other things gay boys need to know.

He can still help the children. But he’s never going to take on a little boy as his nephew again.

After a few more moments, he picks up Roy’s rifle, which can’t fall into the wrong hands, and his own pistol, and slings them into the holsters he has for them, on his belt or on his back. Then he picks Roy up and cradles him. A fireman’s carry would be easier, especially with the long hike down the mountain, but he wants to give his boy’s body as much dignity as he can. He won’t sling Roy over his shoulder like a flour sack. He’ll carry the dead weight of the boy down the mountain, and then he’ll carry it for the rest of his life.

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

this space intentionally left blank

triggers listed at bottom because they are spoilers

dashboard removes all the line spaces

so I have to put lines in

Triggers: Child death. Serious misogyny. A backstory from the original story that involves a worldwide near-complete femicide.

#52 project #inktober 2020 #alara's october 2020 prompt fics #horror #science fiction #spooky5 #more horrifying than spooky though

28 notes · View notes

jj-lives · 4 years

Text

Ornament Inktober - Bmblb

“They’re on their way!” Yang heard a crash coming from Ruby’s room.

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” She screamed, skidding into the bathroom already half undressed.

“It’s noon, and you’re a big girl.” Yang admonished. “At least I didn’t wait until they were at the door to wake you.”

“Haha, you’re hilarious.”

Ruby threw her shirt in Yang’s direction before disappearing into the bathroom completely. The garment only made it halfway down the hall, nowhere near Yang, who was in the living room, piecing together the tree they’d purchased the day before.

A familiar chime sounded from her phone. She grabbed it off the table where she’d left it after receiving Blake’s last text saying her and Weiss were on the way over.

‘Is Ruby awake yet?’

Smiling at how well Blake seemed to know Ruby’s habits she typed a quick reply back.

‘Just woke her. Should be out of the shower soon.’

‘How close are you?’

Yang sent the second message as her impatience was only growing with the knowledge she’d soon see Blake again. Even though it had only been a few days. It always seemed like too much time passed in between her Blake fixes.

‘Close’ was her simple reply.

‘Blaaaake’

‘Yes?’

‘You’re being mean :(‘

Yang stood to put the top section on the fake tree. She didn’t bother unfolding the branches, something told her Weiss would insist on redoing her work anyway.

‘I’ll have to make it up to you then. Open the door.’

In her haste to get to the door she kicked the leg of the coffee table. Limping the rest of the way she threw the door open to find absolutely no one.

“She is so gonna get it.” Yang mumbled as she bent to rub her injured toe.

“Get what?”

She stepped into the hall to find Blake leaning against the wall beside her door. She glared, knowing she’d hidden on purpose.

“Do I have two things to make up for now?” She asked innocently.

Yang closed the distance between them, pinning Blake’s body to the wall with her own.

“Where’s Weiss?” She asked, lips ghosting the skin of her jaw. Blake’s body quivered against hers at the contact.

“Parking the car. We have a few minutes.” Blake’s fingers dug into her hips with enough force Yang was sure she’d have a few bruises the next morning. It was an injury she wouldn’t mind wearing.

“Good.”

The kiss wasn’t soft or gentle. It was none of Yang’s usual sweetness. It was rough, full of tongue and teeth. Blake moaned deep in her throat which spurred Yang further. One hand bypassing Blake’s many layers to feel the warm bare skin beneath. Her thumb pressed circles into the soft skin below Blake’s ribs. It pulled a sharp gasp from the girl in her arms and their lips parted.

It wasn’t enough.

Her lips found a new target as Blake continued to gasp lungfuls of air. Yang growled, irritated that Blake's scarf barred her from full access to her neck. Not having the patience to remove it Yang's mouth drew a jagged line along Blake's jaw stopping only to tug at her earlobe gently with her teeth.

"Yang," Blake groaned, tugging the hair at the back of Yang's neck.

When had she moved her hands from her hips? Blake forced their lips back together as she arched her back, moulding into Yang's touch.

"Would you two please not do that in public?"

Weiss's voice sobered them instantly. With more strength than Yang had yet seen her use Blake pushed their bodies apart. Yang's back collided with the wall opposite as Weiss strolled between them.

"Please try to restrain yourselves." It came off as an order, but Yang was realizing most things she said did. "It's my first Christmas Eve with my girlfriend and I don't want you two ruining it."

A mumbled "it's our first Christmas too," drifted across the hall and Yang laughed, blushing a deep red.

She held her hand out to Blake, who accepted readily.

“Weiss.”

Ruby’s excited voice rang out as they re-entered the apartment. She came running down the hall so fast Yang thought she was going to collide with her girlfriend full force. She skidded to a stop inches from bumping noses and Yang had to give Weiss credit for the fact she stood her ground. Girl must be brave, or perhaps she just trusted Ruby more than Yang would have.

A snicker filled the space as Ruby lifted her hand and held plastic mistletoe above their heads. Weiss scoffed but leaned in to fulfil the age old tradition.

“So they can kiss, but we can’t?” Blake pouted.

“I’d call her out on it,” Yang smiled, pulling Blake to sit with her on the couch. “But Weiss has the unfortunate ability to make Ruby unbearably happy.” They both watched the beaming smile that Ruby pulled away from the kiss with.

“To bring down the monster you would have to sacrifice the maiden.” Blake whispered into her ear as she moved to rest her head on Yang’s shoulder.

“Something like that.”

“You know,” Yang spoke after a moment. “You and Weiss aren’t so different.”

“Take that back right now.”

Blake pulled away, glaring daggers, and it took all Yang’s strength to pull her back into her arms.

“I will not.” She said resolutely. “Because as much as Weiss makes Ruby happy, you make me at least twice as.”

Blake laughed.

“You are so cheesy.”

“Should I stop?” Yang questioned pulling her in for a soft kiss.

“Never.” Blake whispered against her lips.

“Yang,” Ruby called. “It’s time to decorate the tree.”

“Okay. Okay, fine.”

Blake and Yang untangled themselves. Weiss and Blake started placing the branches on the tree while Yang and Ruby started unpacking the ornaments. Yang excused herself to make them all some hot chocolate and returned to a full on argument. She half expected Blake and Weiss to be going at it but for Ruby and Weiss to be arguing, it surprised her.

“What’s happening?” She asked as Blake took a mug from her hands.

“They are in a disagreement on when to put the top star on the tree.”

“It’s the last thing you put on… obviously.”

“You have to start at the top and build everything around it.” Weiss spun on her. “How else can you get it perfect?”

Blake turned and walked away, sipping her hot chocolate she sat on the end of the couch to watch the show.

“Hold up princess.” Yang replied coolly. She swatted at Weiss’ hand that came up to point an indignant finger at her. “I realize you may have grown up with everything just so and pristine, perfect trees, decorated immaculately. But there comes a time you have to learn things can be better, a little unperfect, a little crooked or off center.”

Weiss rolled her eyes as she scoffed.

“How could anything be better than perfect?” She asked.

“Life. Love. Family.” Yang replied slowly. “Ruby, and Blake… none of those things and neither of these two are perfect. But” Yang removed her eyes from Weiss and locked them with Blake’s amber ones. “I wouldn’t want to change either of them for anyone’s definition of perfect.”

“That’s sweet,” Blake cooed. Standing to kiss Yang on the cheek. “Such a charmer.”

“Fine, the star can go on last.” Ruby squealed happily. “But the garland goes on first!”

“Okay, I’ll allow that.” Ruby agreed.

Yang and Blake took a backseat, looping hooks to ornaments, as Weiss and Ruby twirled around the tree placing them. Yang caught Weiss adjusting a few of Ruby’s whenever her back was turned but she didn’t want to start another argument between them so she kept quiet. Ruby picked up the star as Weiss placed the last bauble on the tree.

“Hey Ruby,” Yang jumped up, Blake slipping from her lap. “Let Blake place the star.”

Ruby’s bottom lip stuck out and where normally it would have Yang giving in, today was another matter. She couldn’t get the way Blake said that it was their first Christmas together earlier. She was right, and Yang wanted it to be special.

“You and Weiss decorated the entire tree. Blake’s a part of this family too now.”

Ruby handed the star over dejectedly.

“It’s okay, Yang. Ruby can put it on if she wants.” Blake spoke up.

Shaking her head she held a hand out for her. “No, no. You aren’t getting out of this that easily. Come here.”

Ruby dragged Weiss into the kitchen promising to return with snacks and more hot chocolate, already forgetting her disappointment regarding the star.

“Alright, give me it if you’re going to make me do this.” Blake’s voice was steady, uninterested, aloof even. But she was smiling, a soft, grateful smile. It made living through Ruby’s pout worth it to have Blake feel a little like she belonged.

As she rose to her tip-toes, Yang stepped up behind her. “Let me help.” Her arms wrapped around Blake coming to rest on the now exposed skin of her midriff. Blake placed the star before sinking into Yang’s arms.

“This is how you help?” She purred her approval, resting her hands on top of Yang's.

Yang still couldn't believe the incredible girl in her arms chose to be there. She buried her face into Blake's neck and held her tighter.

"Stay."

"What was that?" Blake asked through derisive snort. "Couldn't hear you cuz I dont have ears on my neck."

"Stay." She breathed directly into the shell of Blake's ear. She shivered in her arms. "Stay here tonight."

Yang was well aware she was begging and all her pep talks about how taking things slow being a good thing, how she was waiting for Blake to be ready, or for the timing to be right; all washed away. She didn't care. There was no shame in not wanting to say goodbye to Blake tonight.

Yang steeled her nerves for the possibility Blake might refuse. She might not be ready for that step, and Yang would be okay with that.

She'd already waited twenty three years for her. She would wait an eternity more if that's what Blake wanted.

"Alright."

"Yes?" She needed to hear it again because she couldn't trust her brain not to warp Blake's words into what she wanted to hear.

"Yes." Blake responded again.

One word shouldn't be able to elicited so much happiness. She couldn't contain her excitement at Blake's answer. Not knowing what to do she grabbed Blake and twirled.

Blake squealed through her laughter. And it was the girliest thing Yang had ever heard come from her she nearly dropped her.

"Yang!" She called gripping her arms tight for support. "Let me go."

She stopped spinning, letting Blake's feet find the floor.

"Never." She said with resolve, placing a kiss on Blake's shoulder before releasing her. She took hold of her hand and pulled her into the kitchen to see what was taking the other two so long.

"If you two are making out you better stop. Blake and I are coming in."

This was going to be the best Christmas.

Ever.

#bumbleby #yanx xiao long #blake belladonna #whiterose #my writing #inktober #ornament #fanfic

139 notes · View notes

noblest-roman-of-all · 4 years

Text

abandon

i figured id try my hand at one of those inktober style writing prompt challenges, so here we go! first up: abandon

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

When he was a kid, Remus had a family. He had a brother, a twin brother at that! They were pretty different, but Remus really didn’t care that much. They would spend hours coming up with crazy stories about dragons and zombies and knights and magic, playing in their room where they could make anything happen. They called it the Imagination, and it was their kingdom. They ruled it together, the prince and the duke, making their own world everyday, then taking it apart and putting new ones together.

He always thought Roman was happy with the way they did things. Sure, sometimes they’d argue about things, but they always ended up making something awesome out of it. They had all they needed with the two of them and their Imagination. Roman clearly didn’t think that though. He kept spending more and more time with the other sides, Patton and Logan. He knew Patton didn’t like him. He never stopped smiling, unless he saw Remus. It never bothered him though, because he had his brother. Until one day.

Roman came back from playing with Patton and Logan, but something was wrong. Remus tried to tell him about his new idea for the Imagination, but Roman told him to shut up. He started yelling about how Remus was bad, he was broken. He said lots of things, but Remus only remembered the last part.

“You’re not my brother. You’re everything I can’t be, everything I can’t let happen to Thomas. You need to leave.”

Remus tried to go back to the Imagination, but the door wouldn’t open for him anymore. He stood outside the door for hours, trying everything he could to get the door open, but nothing worked. He had ideas in there! Stories, monsters, worlds he needed to finish building! Roman was in there! It seemed like forever passed before he heard someone behind him.

“It’s no use. You’re not welcome there anymore,” the voice said. He didn’t need to turn around to know that voice. It was one of the ones they didn’t let Thomas hear, didn’t let him know about. One of the bad guys.

“You’re lying,” Remus sneered. “That’s your whole thing. Roman wouldn’t…”

“Abandon you? He already has.” The sharp voice suddenly turned soft, almost sad. “I… I can give you a place. A family, without him.” A hand landed on Remus’ shoulder. Well, they did think he was a bad guy now. Might as well play the role. He was good at that.

“... where to?”

For a long time after that, Remus had a family. Janus and Virgil were just as strange as he was, just as intense and just as hated by the rest of the sides. It made sense for them all to stick together, to wreak a little havoc. Freaky nightmares, little lies that snowball into a trainwreck, the voice in Thomas’s mind reminding him just how quickly everything can go wrong. It was fun, like getting to play again. His Imagination was no longer contained and quelled by Roman, he was free. He got to suggest all manner of strange, creepy and downright dirty ideas, and sometimes, Thomas actually considered them. And to top it all off, he had friends, family who understood him.

Well, he thought they both did.

Virgil had been acting weird, even weirder than he normally did. He had agreed to jump into videos to really antagonize the “light sides”, finally given a platform other than the mindscape they normally existed in. It had gone well for a while. Even if he didn’t always manage to keep Thomas anxious, he managed to unsettle him for a while, and he messed with the others a shit ton, which Remus personally counted as a win. It had been working, he thought. Until he noticed that Virgil would leave their dark little corner outside of videos, hanging around the others just for shits and giggles.

Janus didn’t seem to mind that much, but Remus knew they were bad news. Knew how fast they would turn around and decide, you know what, you’re not worth it, not worth our time. He knew they would decide eventually that whatever pet project they were attempting with Virgil, they would get bored of it, and they would toss him out and break his heart. Remus didn’t want that to happen. So, he pulled a few strings.

He started fucking with Roman more and more, pushing all of his buttons. He made sure to show his face around Patton, reminding him who Virgil’s real family was. He would pop up in Logan’s room to ask all sorts of nonsense questions, trying to tire him out and piss him off. And because Remus was an evil mastermind at heart, it started to work. The other sides would lose their temper with Virgil more and more often, pushing him aside and talking over him. He was so sure it would make Virgil resent them, make him turn back to the people who cared about him.

He didn’t expect Virgil to duck out entirely.

He really didn’t expect the other sides and Thomas to find him so quickly.

He absolutely didn’t expect they would win him over.

“I love my dark strange son.” What a load of horseshit, from the cardigan clad clown himself.

Fine! If Virge wanted to get involved, leave him and Janus behind just so he could get his heart broken when the others inevitably changed their minds, remembered who he really was, and decided to abandon him in turn, that was all him.

Remus just never thought he was the masochistic sort.

For another three years, Remus had a family. Him and Janus got along swimmingly, better than he ever had with any other side. With Virgil out in the open, they decided they could make themselves known. If he’d thought getting to stretch his twisted creative muscles in the mindscape was fun, it was nothing compared to getting to pull out his biggest guns on Thomas in person. He also enjoyed that Janus seemed to come back from most of his encounters with them smug and content, which was usually the best state Janus could be in. Things were going well.

Remus should’ve known that means someone’s about to leave him.

It starts with the wedding. The stupid, stupid fucking wedding. He’s never wanted to bash his b- Roman over the head more than the moment he decided they were going to go to the wedding. Even if it gave him more material to work with, he knew it was going to result in a level of misery he didn’t want to deal with in the long run. He did end up getting to beat Ro up a little bit, but it didn’t satisfy him the way he wanted it to.

What was worse than that, Janus started getting more and more irritable. Remus would find him pacing around his room, muttering as he steps over crumpled sheets of paper and open notebooks. He would snap at Remus in ways he never did before, pissed off over silly pranks that never phased him much before.

You’d think by now, Remus would be an expert in recognizing when he was about to leave him behind. Some people just don’t learn, apparently.

He did pay attention when he wasn’t around, though people never expect that. He heard everything that happened the night of the wedding. He heard how hurt Roman was, how confused Patton seemed, how angry Thomas was trying to not be. He heard Janus appear and diffuse the situation.

He heard Janus tell them his name.

“Roman, thank god you don't have a mustache. Otherwise, between you and Remus, I wouldn't know who the evil twin is.” He heard that too.

When Janus came back, he didn’t look very different. Remus… well, Remus felt a lot of things, most of which he channeled into an overwhelming desire to hit him directly in his stupid, snake-y face with the morningstar.

Remus generally didn’t feel bad when his weapons actually hurt people, but he didn’t usually feel this level of release, this feeling of letting everything drain out of him in one harsh swing.

“What the hell has gotten into you? I’m not Roman, you know,” Janus sighed, wiping at the blood flowing down his face.

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, you two faced fucker. That was for being such an absolute fucking dick to my brother,” Remus shouted, hauling the morningstar over his shoulder, ready to swing again. Janus took a quick step back and raised an entirely unimpressed eyebrow.

“Oh yes, and you have such a history of kindness and support with him.” Normally Janus’ smug drawl was comforting, but directed at him it grated on every. Single. Fucking. Nerve.

“At least he knows what to expect from me! I hit him with a pointy ball on a stick, I don’t try to emotionally manipulate and damage him every chance I get!” Remus shouted. “And what was the name sharing shit? It took years for you to tell me your name, they get it in a few months?”

Janus let out a long sigh at that. “You don’t understand. It was the only way Patton-”

That was the final straw. “Oh, Patton this Patton that! Why don’t you go suck up to daddy like every other fucking side has, clearly that’s the only thing you give a shit about!”

“I needed them to trust me, Remus, it’s not personal.” Janus had sat down by now, his head in his hands, but Remus could not give less of a shit about how tired he looked.

“You made it personal when you used me to talk shit about my brother! Maybe I am evil, but I know my role, I know what I am, I don’t try to convince anyone otherwise! You, you lie and talk in circles and do whatever it takes to make sure they like you, make sure Patton likes you, even when it means you shit all over me!” Remus had been pacing through his speech, but he circled back to Janus, who was finally looking at him again. They locked eyes for a moment, before Janus looked away, unable to deny any of it.

“You told me you’d give me a family. If this is what your idea of family is, I don’t fucking want it,” Remus spat. “Go play house with Patton and pretend you're ever going to keep a promise and not abandon everything you’ve ever said and done at the drop of a hat when some shiny new possibility appears.”

A long, long moment of silence followed. And then Janus stood up, brushed lightly at his pants, and turned away from Remus.

“Have fun alone, Remus,” he said. It wasn’t a sneer, wasn’t a snarl or a shout. It was just said, flat and cold and so empty. And then he walked away, closing the door behind him quietly. For all his drama and all his shouting, Remus wasn’t prepared for such a quiet end.

“Well,” he said to the empty room, “at least I can’t have any more family drama.”

He didn’t cry that night. He didn’t spend that night wishing that maybe someone would have bothered to stay with him, stay for him.

He didn’t. Because he was the evil twin, and evil twins don’t cry over being abandoned.

They plot revenge.

#ts remus #ts roman #ts janus #ts virgil #ts patton #unsympatton #kinda i mean remus blames him for a lot of stuff #remus angst #creativitwins #hurt no comfort #be ready to be Sad #shea writes

16 notes · View notes

featherynutcase · 5 years

Text

Spooptober 2019: Day 16: Wild

You were running through the woods. Not because you wanted to, nor because you thought it was very fun at all. No, you were being chased. Though, you preferred being chased than thinking of you darling husband being chased.

These were hunters.

They were going to kill your husband for his lycanthropy. He couldn’t help it if he was a bit wild. He never really hurt anyone unless provoked. Whether it was by the wildlife or idiots with guns, that really sent him over the edge. So here you were, trying to lead them away from your husband.

Yet, someone got the grand idea of shooting you.

You screamed as the bullet ripped through you. You crashed into the ground and writhed in pain. Your hand was pressing into your side. You could feel the blood seeping between your fingers.

This wasn’t good. Not at all.

The hunters finally caught up and circled you.

They were talking, though you were unable to keep track of what they were saying. You were feeling awful and off in the distance you heard it. A long, sad howl from of in the distance. You were all going to die here.

Things had certainly gotten worse.

You lay there as the hunters moved away from you and prepared for your husband.

Maybe it was blood loss, but you were thinking about your husband. He was such a handsome orc. Merric was so kind too, always thinking of you and being so thoughtful. Oh and how you loved his smile, with his crooked tusk and that happy twinkle in his eyes. His hair was so thick and curly and he was always so warm… warm… you were so cold.

Somewhere you saw something massive burst through the underbrush and the flash of a gun firing. Around you, there seemed to be chaos, but you truly, couldn’t keep your eyes open or focused long enough to comprehend it.

At one point, it was so, so quiet.

No guns or growls. No talking or screaming. No sounds of the forest.

Just. Quiet.

You forced your eyes open and there was your husband. A giant warg with dangerous tusks, but it was your husband.

“Hey, babe.” You let our free hand reach out, dangerously close to him when you were unable to guess his mood. Yet, he leaned forward and pressed his muzzle to your hand and whined. “Sorry, ‘m just a bit tired. All that running must have worn me out.”

Merric, didn’t seem to buy it and nosed your side.

“I’m fine. Probably. Just a bit- Just a bit of blood.”

Merric laid down beside you and you relished in all that heat. Your hands curled into his fur and you grimaced at the feeling of your blood matting his fur.

“Sorry.” Merric decided to nose at you and your wound that was still bleeding, though much slower. When you next opened your eyes, Merric was no longer a warg. He was kneeling over you and pulling you into his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, hon’. Said I was just tired.”

“You have blood all over you and that doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“’m still pretty?”

“Of course.” He started to walk. You were smiling at him.

“Where’re we going?”

“To get you some help.”

“What about your clothes?”

“We’ll just… Don’t worry about it. Tell me about the time we met.”

“But you know that story.”

“Tell me from your perspective.”

“It was at Denny’s. I was a server and you were a customer. I was walking past your table, with a tray full of drinks and fell. You stopped me from falling into the puddle and glass. Even though I spilled some on you.” You smiled up at him.

“You told me that it was your lucky day and after helping me around the glass, helped me pick it up. But the best part was when my boss was screaming at me, you swooped in like a knight in shining armor. I remember the butterflies in my stomach when you gave me your number and asked me out.”

By now you noticed that the two of you were at a house.

“I think it was our second date I knew you were the one. I love you Merric.” You were passed around and everything started to blur. You were afraid, but only because you felt so cold and Merric was gone.

Something was digging into your side and you began crying out for him.

Then you passed out.

Merric had been bored until he caught your scent leading away from him. So, he followed it, growing excited, until he smelt the others. There was a reek of gunpowder and blood too.

Now, he pressed on to find you. And find you he did. You were laying on the ground in a growing patch of blood. There was a period of blackness, where he wasn’t aware of anything.

Coming out of it though and seeing your pale face that looked so tired, he was scared. He needed to calm down enough to shift back, but it was so hard. You were so loving and easy to please. Your side looked awful and even as he carried out of the forest and to his family’s home, he was tearful and heartbroken.

Hearing you talk about the day you met made him feel worse because he had known at that moment you were meant to be and over the next couple dates, got to know you and wanted to marry you. The fourth date he had a ring in his pocket in case he ever wanted to propose spuriously.

Presently, he was sitting outside the room where his mom and dad were trying to patch you up.

It was the worst thing he has ever dealt with.

He sat there listening to you cry out for him. He could hear the pain in your voice and the fear. Yet, it still couldn’t compare to when there was nothing. You had just stopped and gone silent. He wondered what happened, but was afraid of what was so possible. What was likely.

An hour went by and he paced outside of the room, waiting. When his parents came out with blood smears decorating their skin and clothes, he rushed in.

You were laying on the bed looking much better than you had. Your shirt was gone and there was a lot of gauze wrapped around your abdomen where you had been shot. He sat beside you to wait until you woke up. He would never leave your side again.

#werewolf x reader #werewolf boyfriend #orc boyfriend #orc x reader #werewolf #orc #monster x reader #monster boyfriend

475 notes · View notes

d-asklepiades · 4 years

Text

Three-Month Break

I decided, at the end of July, to take a break from religious social media. I needed to see if I still bothered to practice this religion and if my beliefs held up if I spent time away from the constant positive reinforcement that comes from Tumblr, Discord communities, YouTube comments sections, &c. I felt like, oftentimes, I was posting to the Hellenism discord, r/Hellenism, and Tumblr for heart reaccs, social clout, digital ass pats - basically, I sometimes wondered if I was actually worshipping the gods, or was I just trying to fit in with a group. This is especially concerning to me because 1) I don't have many close friends irl, & 2) I already spend way too much time on social media trying to get approval from people I barely know and barely like. Not to mention, I just moved to a new city, I don't have any friends here, and can't go out and meet people because quarantine. I wanted to see if my religion was in part being a desperate sad boi. Would I still be Hellenic without the community, without the sense of belonging? I don't mean to make anyone feel bad by saying this, but this situation is legit how people get sucked into cults. I don't want any of that shit.

Furthermore, it seems to me that these communities form echo chambers - orthodox comments get like reaccs, stuff outside the Hellenic "Overton Window" gets dragged, and idk, it gets kind of repetitive. Don't get me wrong- I still love the online Hellenic community and sometimes really good discussions occur, but the nature of online communities is to orbit around an acceptable "in group" of ideas. We select for people/ideas we like and everyone else gets yeeted. That's not necessarily bad, it just is what it is. One goal of mine was to see how, or indeed if, my praxis and beliefs changed without feeling like I need to "run it by the community first". This was a secondary concern though, and I'll touch on it later.

I'd previously read (don't remember where) that it takes about three months to form new habits, and about three months to break them. Therefore, for me to actually get any information from my break, it would need to be for at least three months. If I were to fall away from the religion altogether, I figured that's about how long it would take. Also, I resolved to not lurk either. After all, if I, say, heart reacc'd a Discord post, or reblogged something on Tumblr, I'd still get the satisfaction of contributing to the community, and I'd still be encouraging certain content (subtlety shaping the "Overton Window" with my approval or disapproval of content). So, no dm's about religious stuff, no talking to people in the community about religious stuff, no reacc'ing to posts - just staying away altogether and seeing what happens.

So - how'd it go?

1) I still practiced my personal cultus. It helped that just before the hiatus I made a sort of weekly worship schedule. Structure seemed to help in the absence of community. However, I feel like my Deipnon observances weren't as elaborate or ritualistic, which is a problem for me (I'd previously gathered from my divination practice that Hekate would like for me to be more formal, thoughtful, and ritualistic with her monthly meal).

2) I have some new views on miasma, which I'll post about some other time.

3) I'm like 80% sure that I now sync Selene and Artemis. And I'm like 50% sure I will soon sync Artemis, Selene, and Hekate (maybe even Isis). This, and no. 2, help me to realize that I don't necessarily need historical precedent or community approval for every part of my belief and praxis.

4) My relationship with Asklepios has grown. I was only two months into my new job back in July, but now I'm at five months as a nurse. I'm still extremely new to the field, but the emotional toll is already intense- all the pain, suffering, sickness, and death has been getting to me. I rely on Asklepios a lot to get through my shifts and for, idk, like closure? Existential clarity? Like a sense of meaning and purpose in the face of all the shit I help my patients deal with as a bedside RN. The frequency of offerings is probably the same as before my hiatus, but the prayers and reverence have increased a great deal. To that end, I've also focused on Apollo more recently than I ever have before. Relying on religion to help cope with suffering and death - who'da thunk rofl

5) I started a YouTube channel. Of course, the video I uploaded is set to only release after my exile is over. I kinda just want to do a channel for Hellenic prayers and meditations. We'll see how that goes.

So what now?

I think that, moving forward, I'll be in a better position to engage critically with the community. Having spent a good bit of time away, I think I'll be more able to speak my opinion even if it goes against Internet Hellenic Orthodoxy, because I now know that I don't *need* internet religious groups. Also, I feel more secure practicing. I don't have to worry about whether or not the internet approves or disapproves of my praxis or beliefs. Fuck it - my religion is between me and the gods, right?

I would encourage any Hellenic polytheist, or any sort of pagan, who engages with religious social media daily or almost daily to try a similar sort of experiment. Take some time away from the community and see what happens. Maybe you'll grow in your faith, and maybe not - that's ok too. Work on some of your irl friendships, try a new hobby (I've been doing Inktober and picked up an instrument again for the first time in years), read, or write. I've gotten more reading done recently than I have in ages. And when you do practice, resist the urge to check with the internet. Resist the urge to post photos of your altar when you make changes. Resist the urge to share the hymns you write. I think my time off helped me - what might it do for you?

#hellenic polytheism #hellenism

10 notes · View notes

bloody-bee-tea · 5 years

Text

Untamed Winter Fest Day 17

Bells

This belongs to the ever growing story of Overgrown (Inktober Day 14), Shiver (Untamed Fest Day 1) and Ornament (Untamed Fest Day 2), though it can probably be read as a stand alone.

Jiang Cheng hesitates to put his bell down. It would rest next to Lan Xichen’s, like it does every night, and while Jiang Cheng knows that Lan Xichen has accepted his marriage proposal—as he accepted Lan Xichen’s in return—he can’t help but to wonder what would happen if Lan Xichen knew him completely.

Jiang Cheng is still surprised enough that someone like Lan Xichen would even accept his temper and his rudeness. He doubts Lan Xichen will stay if he finds out how ugly Jiang Cheng truly is.

“What’s going on, my heart?” Lan Xichen suddenly asks from behind him, and Jiang Cheng puts the bell down.

He knows he will never get over how it looks; two very similar bells next to each other, the meaning behind them more than clear to anyone familiar with the Jiang traditions.

Lan Xichen can’t deny that he belongs to Jiang Cheng when he wears it.

Jiang Cheng wonders if Lan Xichen will still want that once he finds out.

“I’m just thinking,” Jiang Cheng slowly starts, dread settling in his gut but he knows he has to do this.

Before they take the vows and can’t come back from this. Lan Xichen deserves to know the truth, before he pledges himself to Jiang Cheng without a way back.

“That’s never good,” Lan Xichen teases with a small smile as he encircles Jiang Cheng from the side, peppering his cheek with kisses.

Jiang Cheng leans into Lan Xichen for a moment, allows himself to pretend that everything is alright, before he steps out of his arms.

“Don’t you ever wonder why I won’t take my shirt off around you?” Jiang Cheng starts, and he knows he can’t go back now. Not after he put it out in the open.

“You don’t want to, that’s all I need to know,” Lan Xichen gives back and Jiang Cheng closes his eyes.

He still isn’t sure how someone as perfect as Lan Xichen is even on this earth right now. And how Jiang Cheng got so lucky to call him his, if even just temporary.

“But you must be curious,” Jiang Cheng tries again and Lan Xichen’s gaze goes gentle.

“And you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he easily gives back but Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“What if I’m never ready?”

“Then you never take off your shirt.”

“Just like that?” Jiang Cheng asks because it can’t be that easy, it just can’t.

“Just like that,” Lan Xichen agrees and then takes a step forward to take Jiang Cheng’s hand in his. “A-Cheng, I love you. You, not whatever it is that you’re hiding. It doesn’t matter to me, as long as you want to stay by my side and love me, too.”

“Don’t you ever think that I don’t trust you? Keeping this from you?”

“A-Cheng, I live with you in your family home. I have your bell. You let your nephew call me Uncle. You allow me to sleep next to you, to stand by your side. There is no more trust you can give me.”

Jiang Cheng has to blink back tears at that. He really doesn’t deserve Lan Xichen.

“What if you don’t want me anymore once you know?” Jiang Cheng still asks, because that’s his biggest fear: that Lan Xichen will take one look at the mess of scars on his chest and turn around, leaving Jiang Cheng.

“I doubt that one thing could make me not want you anymore. Not when there are a thousand reasons that make me want you.”

“You’re such a goddamn romantic sap,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, his shoulders relaxing and he steps closer to Lan Xichen again.

“But I’m your goddamn romantic sap,” Lan Xichen mumbles as he slides his hand under Jiang Cheng’s shirt and puts it warm and comforting on the small of his back.

Jiang Cheng hasn’t allowed this for the longest time in the beginning, too afraid that Lan Xichen would slide it to the front and feel his scars, but of course Lan Xichen had noticed how uncomfortable this has made Jiang Cheng.

It was a bit of trial and error for Lan Xichen, to find out where Jiang Cheng would accept to be touched, but he never abused that trust. He keeps his hands to Jiang Cheng’s back, and his sides sometimes, and his hands never stray too close to the scars.

“You are,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, leans easily into the kiss that Lan Xichen gifts him, and he doesn’t voice his other thoughts.

‘I wonder for how long,’ he doesn’t say because maybe, just maybe Lan Xichen will surprise him.

Jiang Cheng usually isn’t one for hope, but he learned a thing or two from Lan Xichen.

They are both breathing a little more heavily when they part and Jiang Cheng pulls them towards the bed.

“I can’t—not today,” Jiang Cheng blurts out, and then immediately curses himself, because what if Lan Xichen misunderstands?

“Whenever you’re ready,” Lan Xichen says and bites soft kisses into the line of Jiang Cheng’s throat, making him shudder.

“What if I’m never ready?” Jiang Cheng gasps out as Lan Xichen starts to suck at the soft skin under Jiang Cheng’s ear.

“Then it’s never,” Lan Xichen mumbles into his skin, and Jiang Cheng groans.

He really doesn’t deserve Lan Xichen.

“Stop talking,” he instructs as he topples them over on the bed and Lan Xichen laughs against him.

“You’re the one who keeps talking,” he teasingly chides Jiang Cheng who has the perfect solution for that.

There are lots of other things they can do with their mouths after all.

~*~*~

The thought won’t leave Jiang Cheng.

What if Lan Xichen really accepts his scars? What if he won’t even find them disgusting?

It’s not something Jiang Cheng dares to think too often, it still can go wrong after all, but the quiet confidence with which Lan Xichen has answered his questions makes him think that maybe, just maybe, one thing in his goddamn life won’t go wrong.

Jiang Cheng knows he probably worries too much about this; not even just the fact that he’s about to show his scars to Lan Xichen, but also about the when and where and how, and in the end he decides to just do it the next time he and Lan Xichen are together in privacy.

He did not expect Lan Xichen to walk in the very second he thought that.

“You’re awfully pale, my heart,” Lan Xichen says, worry clear in his voice and he hurries over, roams his hands over Jiang Cheng to check him for injures.

“Let me show you,” Jiang Cheng brings out, and his voice is wobbling more than he would like.

“Jiang Cheng,” Lan Xichen says seriously and rests his hands over Jiang Cheng’s who are worrying the hem of his under-robe. “Don’t do this because you think you have to. Only do it if you want to.”

Jiang Cheng smiles at him, and he’s aware of how watery it is, and he presses a quick kiss to Lan Xichen’s lips.

“I want you to know all of me, even though I’m terrified,” he admits and turns his hands to grab Lan Xichen’s instead of his under-robe.

“There’s nothing terrifying about the people who love you knowing all of you,” Lan Xichen gently tells him and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“There is when it could mean they leave me,” he gives back and Lan Xichen sighs.

“A-Cheng, my heart, you asked me if it ever bothered me that you don’t trust me,” he says and Jiang Cheng frowns, confused why Lan Xichen brings this up now. “It doesn’t bother me that you don’t trust me with this,” Lan Xichen says and gently tugs at the fabric under their hands, “but it does bother me that you don’t trust me to love you, no matter what.”

“Most of the people who loved me are dead or gone,” Jiang Cheng mutters and Lan Xichen pulls him into a hug.

“And I am still here. I promised to marry you, to always love you. Why won’t you trust me that I will stand by my word?”

Jiang Cheng has to swallow a few times before he finds his voice again.

“I’m trying to,” he eventually mutters, because that’s all he can give Lan Xichen right now. “And this is me trying to,” he goes on as he pulls away from Lan Xichen, hands going to the hem of his robe again. “Let me.”

“Okay,” Lan Xichen easily agrees and he leans forward to kiss Jiang Cheng’s brow. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jiang Cheng breathes out and then just sheds his robe.

He figures quicker is better than a long, slow reveal.

Jiang Cheng keeps his eyes a little bit to the left of Lan Xichen, isn’t ready to see the look on his face, but he still hears the faint gasp Lan Xichen lets out.

Lan Xichen reaches out, before he curls his fingers inwards and pulls his hand back.

“Can I?” he asks, and Jiang Cheng can do nothing but shrug, because he knows his voice would fail him.

But Lan Xichen isn’t running, and he can’t be too disgusted if he asks to touch.

“What happened?” Lan Xichen lowly asks as he brushes his fingertips over the scars on Jiang Cheng’s chest, causing Jiang Cheng to flinch.

Lan Xichen immediately takes his hand back.

“Do they still hurt you?”

“I’m not used to someone touching them,” Jiang Cheng admits and finally looks back to Lan Xichen again.

He wasn’t prepared for the look of complete and utter heartbreak on Lan Xichen’s face.

“A-Cheng, what happened?” he asks again and Jiang Cheng works his jaw a few times before he finds his words.

“These,” he starts and gestures at the mess on his chest, “are a token from the Wen Sect, right before Wen Zhuliu burned my core out of me. This,” he goes on and points at the vertical scar on his lower abdomen, “is from the core transplant.”

“And you survived both,” Lan Xichen breathes out and gently trails his fingers over the criss-crossing scars on his chest again.

Some of them were really deep, Jiang Cheng knows that logically, and he can still see it, by how thick they have become, but he doesn’t remember it. When he came out of his catatonic state, they had already been mostly healed.

“I did,” Jiang Cheng agrees, because what else is there to say to that.

“What were you so afraid of?” Lan Xichen asks him, honestly curious like it seems, like he can’t figure out what has gone through Jiang Cheng’s head all this time.

“You finding them disgusting. Thinking me weak,” Jiang Cheng admits, as he drops his gaze.

Powerful cultivators barely have scars. Jiang Cheng knows Lan Wangji has some on his back, but they are from a punishment that’s meant to scar. The spiritual energy usually doesn’t allow scars to stay, and only the weaker cultivators have some.

It’s just another reminder that Jiang Cheng is average at best.

“Oh, A-Cheng,” Lan Xichen sighs out and grabs Jiang Cheng by his shoulders. “You had your core burnt out of you. That alone would have killed lesser men. And you didn’t only survive that, but also a transplant on top of those injuries on your chest. Even if I didn’t know you, those scars would tell me that you are the strongest man I have ever met.”

Jiang Cheng can feel the tears burning in his eyes and he raises his hands to grab Lan Xichen’s wrists. Lan Xichen shifts his hands without dislodging Jiang Cheng’s and cradles Jiang Cheng’s face in his hands.

“They don’t make you ugly or weak. They just show everyone what I already knew: that you are the strongest and most beautiful man ever.”

“You can’t just say things like that,” Jiang Cheng sobs out and Lan Xichen smiles at him.

“I can, if they are the truth.”

“A-Huan,” Jiang Cheng says, voice coated with tears and Lan Xichen kisses the tears from the corner of his eyes.

“I love you and I am still going to make you mine,” he promises and Jiang Cheng is openly sobbing now but Lan Xichen is holding him safely, allowing Jiang Cheng to let it all out.

Jiang Cheng still doesn’t understand how he ever got this lucky, but he will never allow Lan Xichen to leave him.

Not that there is anything that can send him running, apparently.

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #xicheng #untamed winter fest #established relationship #hurt/comfort #scars #lxc continues to be the best ever

187 notes · View notes