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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Note

Hey it’s me again, your biggest fan🤪 Hope that you’re doing well! Can I request an imagine with Cal Kestis where he takes care of a jedi!reader like being domestic and stuff? I’m sorry this isn’t really precise, tell me if you want more details or if you don’t want to write this, it’s okay! As always, love your writing, thank you🥰💖

Hi there~! Even if I’ve already messaged you about this a few days ago but thank you so much for being patient for the fic! I hope I was able to capture the domestic fluff in this story 🤗🥰 Sending lots of love, I hope you’re staying safe and doing well at your home! 💖

“Day Off” | Cal Kestis x Reader

Tags: Domestic! Cal Kestis

Masterlist

It was nearly 0700 in the morning. Cal had gotten up from bed while you were still sleeping, and he made himself busy at the galley as soon as he put his shirt on.

“Kid, what are you doing up so early?” Greez groaned when he walked in rubbing his eye.

Cal brought a finger to his own lips, “I’m just making breakfast.”

Greez looked around, he saw that you weren’t awake yet, and he immediately got the idea that Cal was going with. He let the boy do whatever he was doing in the kitchen and then walked away.

Cal exactly knew your favorite breakfast: space waffles drizzled with honey with berries filling half of the plate. The decadent smell wafted around the ship—when it reached the bedroom, your nostrils flared and your eyes shot up. You bring yourself out of bed, to the bathroom first to get washed up, and then followed the smell while rubbing your eyes until you arrived at the kitchen.

Eyes still droopy, you leaned your entire body over the broad of Cal’s back, slipping your arms around his waist as he continued to prepare food.

“That smells so good…” you moaned.

“Well, good morning, sunshine!”

He paused from his edible handiwork, twirled around and cupped your face. He squishes and wriggles your cheek and then smothered you with kisses. Cal lifted you up slightly above the ground and settled you down on a chair then quickly resumed his work. Even with his back turned, you continued to stare at the little shifts of his shoulder, his head slightly bobbing left and right, and the occasional pivots of his elbows. They were little things—though they still made you smile.

He carried a pair of dishes to the table—one for each of you.

“You made breakfast?”

“Yeah, I thought of whipping something you’d like,”

He places the plate in front of you.

“Just the way you like it!” he beamed.

The honey and the waffle melted perfectly in your mouth, you pop a berry into your mouth and the juice mixed in with the honey. It was the perfect amount of sugar for you to get through the morning.

The stillness of the forest was disturbed by the rustling of the leaves and grass.

After the liberation of the Wookiees under the effort of Saw Gerrera’s partisans, there is now peace and everyone can rest easy. Meanwhile, you and Cal have made a training course in the forest just past the AT-AT wreckage at the landing pad.

The original fifteen-minute-long trek from the landing pad to the course became eight minutes; thanks to the discreet arrows were carved on the tree trunks, and shards of the bright red pauldrons stripped off of Stormtrooper commanders hung on the branches that served as waypoints.

This portion of the forest was something that both of you discovered in the middle of scouting duty. The two of you mapped it out like some kind of obstacle course; Cal even managed to reprogram a probe droid to behave like a remote training droid—exactly like the ones younglings train with at the Jedi Temple.

“We should think of a name for the probe droid,” Cal suggested while crawling his way uphill on a slope. “It’s kinda inconvenient and a mouthful to keep calling it ‘the probe droid.’ What name do you think we should give it?”

“Normally, we’d make a name out of its serial number,”

Cal concurred with the idea. When you’ve reached your destination, he produced the black droid out of the chest where it’s kept and examined it, searching for its serial number. You walked up to him and dusted off the earth caked on its body, revealing the gradually-chipped white font painted on the black metal.

“There it is,” you tap it with your finger. “RZE-4… We could call it Raze!”

Cal echoed the serial number and then the name you suggested. He openly tells you that he likes it and went with it. BD-1 chirped—his tone sent mixed signals. The pair interpreted it as nervousness mixed with a tinge of jealousy.

“Aw, BD’s worried we might have had him replaced,” you cooed, patting him softly on the head.

“Don’t worry, BD, you’ll always be our only buddy!” Cal added.

A few more affirming words later, BD-1’s confidence in the two of you easily returned. Cal switched on the newly-named probe droid, Raze, and the little red dot shone in its dome-shaped eye. It hovered off of Cal’s hands, beeping and spinning its head to scan its surroundings; when it heard BD’s trill, its abrupt turn of the head startled the little, white droid who immediately hid behind Cal’s shoulder.

“He’s just saying hello to you!” an amused Cal chuckled.

“You won’t hurt little BD here, will you, Raze?”

The black, hovering droid chittered its signature string of sounds in response; BD-1, having understood the other droid, chirped back positively. The two were fast friends.

“Okay, that turned out quicker than I expected!” Cal commented.

Cal configured the droid’s blaster damage to non-lethal and the training commenced: beginning with basic sparring, experimenting all kinds of saber combinations and attack patterns. The scenario immediately shifted and then became a situation facing off a melee enemy accompanied by a ranged assist—Cal tried to overwhelm you, pretending to be an electrostaff Purge Trooper while Raze shoots projectiles at you, careful not to bank it to the droid you sent it flying to a hanging armor plate.

“Raze, standby mode!” Cal commanded then turned to you. “See if you can keep up!”

You and Cal raced through the course, stopping along the way to throw some strikes here and there—the tricky part of the course was walking through a fallen log and fighting at the same time. Cal had already retracted his lightsaber once you got across.

“Cal, hey wait! Where are you going?”

“Just follow me!”

Excitement pumped your heart in every step of the way. You’ve gotten ahead of Cal, you’d look back every once in a while to see if Cal was running close—he was. He glimpsed at the smile and the youthful rush that painted the expression on your face.

He’s up to something. You wagered, but kept going.

Your speed came to a halt, standing in front a curtain of vines; you shot him a quizzical look which he returned with a smug.

“What’s in there?”

“You’ll see,” he said before going through.

You have no other choice but to follow. You found yourselves in a cave, the strings of light hanging from the ceiling mesmerized you, and there were more on the ground. The sound of groaning metal drew your attention away from the luminescence—Cal had hauled out two large metal plates, enough for either of you to sit on.

“What are you planning with those?”

“Just sit down,” he patted the unoccupied metal sheet.

You sat right in front of him, your knees buckled and wrapped around your arms as you held onto the rim of the metal. Your breath was shaky and you struggled to keep a tight grip on your improvised sled.

“Ready?”

You shake your head, “No!”

Cal gave a tiny push on your back and it felt as if you were flying; the damp air blew through your hair as you sped away, shifting your weight ever so slightly to make the turns, you can’t help but burst in laughter and just started whooping.

“We’re almost to the end! Put your heels on the ground to slow down!”

Mud caked on your soles as the heels of your boots scrape against the soil. The end of the slide threw both of you to a puddle riddled with glowing blue lights. You didn’t mind the muck that clung onto your clothes, you just let it all out through laughing and childishly flailing around to shake off the tension.

“WOW THAT WAS FUN!” you suddenly sat up, your hair flung droplets of water all over the place. “Since when have you found out about this place, anyway?”

“When we were on scouting duty, just before we made our course,”

“You’re really full of surprises,” you splashed the bioluminescent water to his direction, in turn, he did the same until you’re both covered in glowing blue muck. You scoop up some in your hand and upon closer inspection, you assumed it to be some kind of algae. “I hope you know the way to a waterfall or a stream because this thing’s sludgy!”

There was a river not far from where you were. The faint sound of a waterfall crashing proved it. The bioluminescent algae in the puddle gradually had a paste-like consistency when it dried as you walked. By the time you found the water hole, without hesitation, you dove into the water then the matter dissolved off of your bodies and into the current.

“For a moment there, I thought my clothes got heavy!” you blurted.

“Yeah, Kashyyyk sure has weird plants,” Cal added.

First, you washed off the residues of the blue algae that stuck in the creases of your clothes. Eventually, both of you have stripped off your jackets and shoes, leaving them lying flat on some rocks by the shore of the river to dry. After rinsing yourselves, the two of you rushed back to the base to get an actual, proper bath.

There was a bunker near the refinery, fortunately, you had the baths all to yourselves. The water temperature was perfect and the tub was more than enough to fit both of you; he took you to his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist underwater while you scooped and then poured water on his head. Droplets lined up in rows along his jaw then plopped down, he studied the contours of your face riddled with beads of water, his eyes trailed on every inch of your face and he’d absentmindedly smile to himself as you wash him.

Your fingers gently scrubbed his scalp until a puff of suds partially covered his red hair; soft, relaxed sighs escaped his lips as you combed his hair in wet, clumped spikes. He closed his eyes for a few minutes that you thought he’d dozed off.

“You still awake?”

“Yep…”

You slightly angled your head to the side but continued on. A few minutes later, he started to shift in his position.

“Your turn,” he purred as he smiled.

He turned you around so you face away from him. He smoothed your hair and smuggled a kiss on the crook of your neck. He mimicked the way you washed his hair: fingers crawling upward starting from the bottom of your scalp until foam started to froth between your locks—he was so gentle that your neck slowly tilted back, your nerves tingled as he rubbed—then he cupped up a handful of water, rinsed the clouds of suds off of your hair.

He continued to stroke your head with the palm of his hand, smoothing out your hair while repeatedly cupping and pouring water on you.

“This feels nice,” you finally hummed.

“Should we get dirty more often then?” he half-joked.

“No need, let’s just do this more often!”

One last rinse before you go and it’s back to the Mantis. The sensation of his fingers still ran fresh through your skin, even if it has been an hour since your bath. You yawned and rubbed your eyes.

“Aww, my little baby’s tired,”

“I guess I am…”

Cal carried you bridal-style and retired to the bedroom inside the ship. When he settled you down in bed, you stretched out your arms to him, demanding that he lies with you. He cuddled you in while pulling the blanket over the both of you; stroking your hair, caressing your cheeks with the back of his hand, and kissed you one last time before he too drifted off to sleep.

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lightshadowverisimilitude · 4 years

Text

Marry Me to the Sky 2/?

Part one

~*~

Wei Ying had only just learned how to use a bow and he wasn’t very good at it. It was hard to remember to keep his back straight and his elbow turned out while keeping the other one level with the ground and aim all at the same time. Plus, the string hurt his fingers.

Jiang Cheng was really good. He had hit the target five times while Wei Ying’s arrows kept landing in the dirt. When they had class, Uncle was there to help them, but they were just practicing on their own, so Wei Ying didn’t have a strong hand pushing between his shoulder blades, or Uncle’s kind voice reminding him not to close his eye.

At the thought, he hastily opened his right eye. His arms were trembling, but he held onto the string and took a breath, and then let it out again. Only when his lungs were empty did he take his fingers away from the string. The string snapped his hand and the arrow flew wildly off to one side.

“Hey!” Jiang Cheng complained while Wei Ying popped his thumb into his mouth and hopped up and down.

Wei Ying looked down the range to see his own red-fletched arrow buried in Jiang Cheng’s hay bale. Forgetting the hot pain in his hand, Wei Ying jumped up higher. He pumped both fists. “Look! It’s almost in the center!”

“It doesn’t count if you did it on accident!” Jiang Cheng snapped. “Anyway, it’s my target, so I get credit for it!”

“That’s not fair!” Wei Ying shouted back.

Jiang Cheng pulled his string back all the way and released it without even aiming. It flew up over the hay bale and landed somewhere behind it.

“Ha!” Wei Ying exclaimed, pointing. He laughed as Jiang Cheng’s face went almost as red as Wei Ying’s arrow fletching.

“You!” Jiang Cheng dropped his bow and shoved at Wei Ying’s arm hard enough to make him stumble.

“Ow! That hurt!”

“Good, it’s supposed to!” Jiang Cheng said. He turned like he was going to pick up his bow again, but Wei Ying dropped his own bow and tackled the bigger boy to the ground. He might’ve been young, but he knew that letting someone push him without an answer just meant they wouldn’t have any fear about pushing him again, and the next time would be harder.

Jiang Cheng howled, and they rolled through the dry grass, kicking and pulling at each other. Wei Ying had only come to stay at Lotus Pier six months before, but he already knew all of Jiang Cheng’s soft spots. He dug his fingers into Jiang Cheng’s sides until he was screaming with laughter and squirming on the ground.

“Stop it, stop it!”

“Say you yield!” Wei Ying demanded, redoubling his efforts to get around Jiang Cheng’s arms to his ticklish spots.

“I won’t!” Jiang Cheng said, but he was laughing so hard that he was having trouble speaking. He managed to get his feet pressed to Wei Ying’s stomach and pushed hard, knocking him away. “I’ll sic the dogs on you this time for sure!” he said, leaping on Wei Ying in turn and looking for his ticklish spots.

Wei Ying was only ticklish on the bottoms of his feet, but he wasn’t going to tell Jiang Cheng that. Instead he rolled onto his belly and tucked his arms and legs in under his body until he looked like a turtle and Jiang Cheng couldn’t get to him.

“Give up!” Wei Ying told him, turning his head so he could talk, though he still got dirt in his mouth.

“How am I giving up? You’re at my mercy right now!”

“I’m not,” Wei Ying insisted. He squished himself tighter together as Jiang Cheng tried to pry one of his arms up. “And you better not sic the dogs on me, or I’ll tell Shijie!”

“How are you gonna tell her anything when you’re hiding up in a tree?” Jiang Cheng demanded. He crouched down next to Wei Ying and pushed his shoulder into Wei Ying’s ribs, shoving hard to topple him over. Wei Ying mostly just scooted along the dirt.

Frustrated, Jiang Cheng backed up, and then rammed into Wei Ying’s side head first. It hurt a little, but mostly it just looked funny. Wei Ying laughed, and Jiang Cheng backed up to do it again, which only made Wei Ying laugh harder. Really getting into his role, Jiang Cheng pawed at the ground, sweeping back a handful of dirt and dry grass with one hand before charging again.

They collided, and Wei Ying did topple over then, laughing so hard it made his ribs hurt. He uncurled, and Jiang Cheng collapsed on top of him, laughing, too.

“You’re like a goat!” Wei Ying gasped out.

Indignant, Jiang Cheng sat up to look down at him. “Goat? How dare you! Obviously, I was a bull!”

“Baaaaaa!” Wei Ying insisted. Jiang Cheng picked up a handful of dirt and rubbed it in his hair, but he backed off when Wei Ying sat up and set to smacking it back out. If he didn’t want Shijie to find out about them fighting later when she gave him a bath, he would have to go dunk his head in the chilly pond.

“Sorry for pushing you,” Jiang Cheng said after a minute.

Wei Ying looked over at him, surprised. “It’s okay,” he said, and then, “Sorry I hit your target.”

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “It’s okay.”

Wei Ying left his hair alone and pulled his feet in so the soles of his shoes were pressed together. It was nice having shoes with good, thick soles. The one’s he had in Yiling had never been good to start with, and then they’d worn through so water got in when it rained. He scraped a fingernail over a splotch of dried mud until it flaked off. Next to him, Jiang Cheng plucked up a long piece of grass and spun it between his fingers.

“Jiang Cheng?”

“What?”

“You wouldn’t really put the dogs on me?”

Jiang Cheng looked offended. “Of course I wouldn’t,” he said, scowling. “I said I’d protect you from them! How would I sic them on you and then just have to protect you from them? That would be dumb.”

Wei Ying grinned. He tilted sideways until their shoulders bounced together. “Thanks.”

“Pfft. Don’t thank me. A-Jie would be sad if you got hurt, that’s all.” He looked at Wei Ying stubbornly, daring him to say something about the obvious lie.

“Okay, Jiang Cheng.”

Jiang Cheng nodded shortly, and then stood up and dusted his pants off. “We better go practice more, or you’ll never be able to hit anything. You can’t be a disciple at Lotus Pier if you can’t use a bow.” He held his hand out, and Wei Ying took it.

Wei Ying thought about using the grip to pull Jiang Cheng back down with him, but in the end, he didn’t. Jiang Cheng tugged him up to his feet and they turned back to the range where they’d left their bows. It was good timing, too. Just then, a bunch of people walked past on the pathway leading back to Lotus Pier. If someone had seen their bows laying on the ground and told Uncle about it, they’d both have been in big trouble.

“Who are they?” Wei Ying asked, staring in awe. There were six cultivators dressed in flowing white robes, each carrying swords with hilts that ranged in glistening color from ivory to pale blue. When they walked, the skirts of their robes flared out around their feet, and even their boots were white.

“That’s Gusu Lan,” Jiang Cheng said, coming to stand next to him to watch as the cultivators went by.

Wei Ying gasped and looked at them more closely, as if a boy his age would suddenly materialize next to them. Lan Zhan was from Gusu Lan, and Wei Ying had sent a letter to him almost three weeks ago. He’d watched every morning when the messengers came in, hoping to be called down for a letter of his own. He’d never gotten a letter before, and he just really hoped Lan Zhan wrote him back.

One of the cultivators smiled at them and lifted one hand to wiggle his fingers in a wave. It was a weird thing to see when the rest of them looked so stern, like walking statues. Wei Ying immediately waved back, lifting his hand high overhead to make sure the cultivator could see him. The cultivator smiled more broadly and turned to the man walking next to him to say something, though they were too far away for Wei Ying to hear what.

“I bet they’re here about your betrothal,” Jiang Cheng said. He tugged at Wei Ying’s arm. “Come on! If they talk in the courtyard, we can hear them if we get up on the wall!”

They ran through the trees so the visiting Gusu Lan cultivators wouldn’t see them, and then climbed up the gnarled old tree by the eastern wall and hopped over to the tiles as quietly as they could so they could lay on their bellies and still see the main gates.

Uncle Fengmian and Madam Yu were already in the courtyard, so someone must have run ahead to warn them that the Gusu Lan cultivators were on the way. Madam Yu’s attendants waited behind her in two neat rows, but Uncle didn’t have any disciples with him. It was close to lunch time, so they were probably all in the hall eating.

“I still cannot believe you let that… child write a letter to Lan Zhan,” Madam Yu said, giving Uncle a mean look. “Did you even read it first? They’re probably here to break off the betrothal, and after I worked so hard to convince Lan Qiren that the boy was worth taking.”

“I read the letter,” Uncle said, but he didn’t elaborate.

If Wei Ying were standing up, he would have hung his head. Uncle and Shijie had helped him write it, and Jiang Cheng had helped him draw the flower at the bottom. Wei Ying knew that he wasn’t very good at writing, but he’d tried really hard, and Shijie had said it was a very nice letter.

“Assuming that they don’t break it off altogether, how young will they take him?”

“There will be no wedding until they’re both old enough to agree to it,” Uncle said, which Wei Ying didn’t really understand. Wei Ying had already agreed to it, and Lan Zhan must have as well, or they wouldn’t be betrothed. Uncle had said that their betrothal had been accepted.

Wei Ying really loved having Shijie and Uncle and Jiang Cheng, but he’d never had a friend before, and he was excited. If Lan Zhan showed up tomorrow, Wei Ying would marry him on the spot, and then Lan Zhan could shoot arrows with him and Jiang Cheng, and they could swim in the ponds together, and play cultivators and monsters together, too.

“They don’t have to be married for them to take the boy,” Madam Yu said. “He could foster there. Structure would do him some good.”

“We’re not having this conversation again,” Uncle told her, which made her angry.

Wei Ying ducked back a litte just in case she looked up. Madam Yu scared him. Any time she walked into a room, he felt his stomach turn to bubbles and all he ever wanted to do was get away. He’d known people like her in Yiling, and she mostly reminded him of the lady at that fancy inn who’d caught him taking scraps from their trash heap. She’d grabbed his face hard and turned him this-way-and-that, and then called him a “pretty child,” but not in a way that sounded very nice. The way she’d looked at him reminded him a lot of the way ladies picked up pieces of fruit and turned them around in their hands before deciding which ones to buy.

Before Madam Yu could say anything else, the main gates opened, and the Gusu Lan cultivators swept in. Wei Ying had seen some swans on a lake outside Yiling once, graceful white feathers and dark markings around their beaks. The Gusu Lan cultivators reminded him of those swans.

“Welcome,” Uncle greeted.

They all bowed to him, long sleeves briefly flaring out like wings. The one in the front said, “We bring greetings from Lan-zong zhu and a letter from Lan er-gongzi to his intended, Wei-gongzi.”

Wei Ying went giddy with excitement. He reached over to pat at Jiang Cheng’s arm until Jiang Cheng shoved him off. Uncle and Madam Yu returned the greeting and invited the disciples in for refreshments. Uncle let Madam Yu take the lead and lagged back until the Gusu Lan disciples were all of range, and then he strolled casually to the east side of the courtyard.

Before they could even register they’d been caught, Uncle was flying up to look over the wall at them. “I have been meaning to have that tree cut down,” he said, but he was smiling kindly.

“Sorry, Father,” Jiang Cheng mumbled, scooting back so he was lower than Wei Ying on the tiles.

“Sorry, Uncle,” Wei Ying echoed.

Uncle held his arms out, and they reluctantly clambered up the slanted roof. Wei Ying went first, making the short hop from the roof to Uncle’s arms, and then held onto him tightly as Uncle shifted him to one side and held out his other arm for Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng didn’t jump, but then stretched across the distance until he could grab Uncle’s shoulder. Uncle pulled him off the roof, and they drifted back to the ground.

Giving them a wink, he said, “People on the ground can’t see you if you’re on the west wall.”

Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng exchanged grins, and then Uncle ruffled their hair. He looked at his hand and the dust stirred up around their heads. “Why don’t you boys go clean up. Your sister will come fetch you when we’re ready for you. Now, I best get going as well, or I’ll be in trouble with Madam Yu.”

Jiang Cheng threw his arms around Uncle’s waist in a quick hug, and then he grabbed Wei Ying by the wrist and pulled him toward their room at a run.

~*~

Wei Ying was bouncing on the balls of his feet as Shijie led them into the main hall. The Gusu Lan cultivators were seated on either side of the central aisle with plates of snacks and tea pots. Madam Yu sat at Uncle’s right hand and her expression was that same painted-on smile that Wei Ying remembered on the pretty ladies in Yiling. He looked away from her hastily - she never liked it when he looked at her - and then stopped at Shijie’s side. Jiang Cheng nudged him, and they all three bowed to Uncle.

“Wei Ying,” Uncle said once they’d stood upright again. “These kind cultivators have brought a letter from your betrothed on their way north.” He smiled a secret smile, since Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng already knew that.

Wei Ying turned to the right and then the left, bowing in turn to the cultivators, who looked on with a mixture of indulgent smiles and a kind of impassiveness that at least wasn’t unkind, even if it was intimidating. “Thank you for bringing my letter,” he told them sincerely, and then looked around cautiously, trying to spot it.

The cultivator who had waved at him on the road rose to his feet. He stepped around his table and pulled a rolled scroll out of his sleeve, offering it with a bow that really just seemed more like he was leaning over to hold it out at Wei Ying’s level.

Wei Ying wanted to snatch the letter out of his hands and run to the west lotus pond so he could sit under the willow to read it, but he looked first to Uncle, and then up to Shijie. Shijie smiled down at him and nudged him gently between the shoulderblades. He ducked his head and reached out for the letter, moving slowly so he’d have time to jump out of the way if the cultivator tried to grab him. He didn’t think the Gusu Lan cultivator would try to grab him, but sometimes adults seemed like they were one way and turned out to be another way. Wei Ying tried to stay out of arm’s reach of strangers if he could help it.

The cultivator didn’t make any sudden moves, so Wei Ying took the scroll out of his hands and backed up so he could feel Shijie’s sleeve against his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he murmured, suddenly feeling shy. He saw Madam Yu’s eyes narrow over the cultivator’s shoulder, but thankfully, he couldn’t see her anymore once the cultivator had straightened up.

Wei Ying pulled the pale blue tassel between his fingers, not sure what else he was supposed to say, or if it would be rude for him to just leave. He looked up at Shijie, who set her hand down on his shoulder and squeezed gently. Wei Ying couldn’t read very well anyways, so he would need someone to go with him.

“Our young master also thanks you for the gift of your artwork, and asked me to bring you this as well,” the cultivator said, reaching back into his sleeve and bringing out a package wrapped in white silk.

“For me?” Wei Ying asked, staring at it.

Uncle had already given him so much - clothes, and shoes with good soles on them, and a bow, and a wooden sword - but this was his first time getting a present from a friend. The cultivator held it out, nodding, and Wei Ying shifted the letter so he could take the package in both hands. The silk was soft and cool against his hands, and he could feel the hard edges of a box underneath.

“Jiang Cheng helped me,” he said, looking up at the cultivator nervously and keeping his hands out in case the cultivator would want it back once he realized that Wei Ying hadn’t painted the lotus by himself.

“Only a little,” Jiang Cheng muttered, blushing red and scowling down at his feet.

The cultivator looked between them with a soft smile. “I will be sure to convey that back to the young master.”

“Would you tell him -” Wei Ying stopped, aware of all the people staring at him. He gulped and pulled the box into his chest so he didn’t accidentally drop it. “Would you tell him thank you?”

“I will.”

From the lotus throne, Uncle said, “Yanli, why don’t you take your brothers to go play until supper?”

“Of course, Father. A-Ying, A-Cheng?” She turned and held an arm out to usher them out the door.

Wei Ying didn’t have to be nudged at all. Holding his letter and the package in hand, he hurried out in front of her, only just barely not running, with Jiang Cheng walking fast to keep up. As soon as they were around the corner, Jiang Cheng caught his arm and they broke into a run for their favorite lotus pond, Wei Ying holding the letter and gift tightly. Yanli called after them to slow down, but they were both too excited to walk, so she was still a long distance behind them by the time they got to the pond.

Wei Ying set the package and the letter on the stone bench, and they both sprawled on the ground to look at it. Now that he could open them, he found that he was nervous. What if Lan Zhan didn’t like him? What if Lan Zhan didn’t want to be his friend after all? But he must have if he’d sent a present.

Wei Ying fiddled with the tassel on the cord holding the scroll closed. Next to him, Jiang Cheng vibrated with nearly as much excitement as Wei Ying had felt up on the roof.

“Maybe we should wait for Shijie,” Wei Ying said, smoothing the tassel out and sitting back to stare at the pristine white silk wrapped around his present. It was almost too pretty to touch, soft and patterned with clouds and cranes, the top tied in an intricate knot.

Jiang Cheng nudged him with one elbow. “Just open it!”

“You don’t read much better than me,” Wei Ying told him.

“Not the letter, the present!”

Wei Ying looked over his shoulder. Shijie was just visible coming up the path. He bit his lip and then reached out and took the box. It was as long as both of his hands and as wide as three fingers. He plucked at the knot on top, trying to figure out how it was tied so he could put it back together later if he wanted. Shijie came up behind them just as he finally got the ends free. She stooped to pat them each on the head, and then sat down on the bench next to the scroll.

When Wei Ying looked up at her, she smiled encouragingly. Once the cloth had been pulled away, he found a blue lacquered box that was already the nicest thing he’d ever put his hands on, and he took a second to just look at it, watching the light slide off the surface like water.

“How lovely,” Shijie said.

“Open it,” Jiang Cheng burst out.

“Don’t rush me,” Wei Ying hissed, but he wedged a fingernail under the small silver clasp and lifted it up, trying not to get any fingerprints on the box. He was glad that they’d scrubbed up before going into the audience hall; he would have felt bad putting his dirty hands on it otherwise.

The inside was lined with black silk, which cradled an elegant brush with a handle of pale golden wood, a block of ink with a raised design of clouds on the face, and an inkstone of white jade with a cloud pattern carved into the top. It was such a pure white color that it almost looked like someone had pulled an actual summer cloud out of the sky and polished it up.

“Wow,” Jiang Cheng said, all but laying on Wei Ying’s shoulder to see into the box.

Wei Ying reached out and hesitantly touched the inkstone. It was cool and soft like the silk, and definitely too nice for him.

“What a thoughtful gift,” Shijie said. She was leaning over her knees to look at it. “Lan er-gongzi must have been happy to get your letter.”

Wei Ying beamed. “You think so?”

Shijie nodded firmly. “May I see it?”

Wei Ying almost slammed the lid shut and held it to his chest to protect it, but it was only fair. Shijie had helped him to write the letter in the first place, and she was Shijie. He carefully held out the box with the white silk still tucked around it. Shijie took it gently from his hands, sliding her own fingers under the silk so she could lift the box onto her lap. Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng got up on their knees and moved to either side of her so they could still see inside.

“These are very lovely,” she said, touching the inkstone as well and giving Wei Ying a bright smile. “I’ll show you how to grind the ink later, if you want.”

Wei Ying nodded quickly. The last time, she had given him some of her paint to write with, but Wei Ying had seen Uncle grinding ink at his desk, and the sound of the ink block dragging over the stone was so nice. Uncle’s inkstone was big and black with a pink jade lotus flower blooming out of the top. Wei Ying’s new inkstone was small enough that it would almost fit in his palm, and so light it seemed like it might float if taken out of the box.

Patting the bench next to her, Shijie asked, “Would you like to read the letter together?”

Wei Ying nodded quickly and climbed up. She set his present down on the bench between them and picked up the letter so Jiang Cheng could sit on the other side. While she untied the cord and rolled the scroll out, Wei Ying carefully pulled the brush and the inkstone out of the box, feeling the weight of them in his hands. The jade was so fine and milky that he could see the shadow of his fingers through the edges of it.

“Oh, Lan er-gongzi has such beautiful calligraphy,” Shijie said.

Wei Ying looked over and marveled at it. Compared to his clumsy characters that he’d had to copy down a dozen times after Shijie and Uncle wrote them for him, Lan Zhan’s letter looked like a work of art. He had even mounted it on a pale gold silk patterned with fans and cranes.

“To Wei-gongzi, my betrothed,” Shijie read, which made Wei Ying frown a little. If anyone should call him Wei Ying, it was Lan Zhan, who was going to be his best friend. “I have received your letter. I am in good health. In answer to your questions: I eat congee and seasonal vegetables for breakfast. For lunch and dinner, I eat what is served by the kitchen. I do not have a preference on colors, nor a favorite animal. My best subject is music. I play the guqin in my free time.

To foster the acquaintance between us, I will ask you similar questions. In what subject are you most accomplished? Do you have a preference in reading? Your writing is quite -”

She stopped, blinking down at the page.

“What is it, Shijie?” Wei Ying asked, looking over her arm at the words. “What did he say?”

“Ah… well, this character is a little difficult for me.”

“Look at the parts of it, like you do for me,” Wei Ying suggested. When he couldn’t figure out a character, she would break down each part of it for him and explain how one part of the character might be “tree,” but putting three trees together was “forest.”

Shijie’s eyebrows curled together like they did when she was worried. She bit her lower lip and then cautiously continued, “Your writing is quite poor.”

Wei Ying kicked at the ground with one foot, hands tightening on the brush and the stone. “I only just learned,” he mumbled.

“It’s alright, Wei Ying, I’m sure he just didn’t know.” She put a hand on the back of his neck comfortingly.

“Your writing is terrible,” Jiang Cheng said from her other side.

“Until you can say that your own is perfect, you shouldn’t judge,” Shijie said in gentle admonishment. Jiang Cheng ducked his head, a dark blush staining his cheeks.

“Read the rest,” Wei Ying prompted, though there was a sudden squirming, twisting feeling in his stomach, and he wondered if maybe he didn’t want the rest of it.

Shijie looked back down at the letter, but let out a soft breath and continued, “I recommend that you spend at least three hours a day practicing your writing. It is a necessary skill for the spouse of a Lan clan member. Lan rules read, the hand should be as elegant as the tongue is eloquent.

“To promote your improvement, I have included proper writing implements as a gift. In the future, I will provide manuscripts for your edification. You seem to enjoy art. I will send a book in the spring on proper brush forms.

“Your future spouse, Lan Zhan.”

An uncomfortable quiet fell. In the water, there was the soft plop of a fish breaking the surface. Wei Ying’s hands tightened until they ached around the ink stone. “He didn’t say he wanted to be my friend at all.”

“Oh, A-Ying, once he knows you better - ”

Wei Ying lifted his arm and scrubbed it hard across his face. He didn’t even know why he was crying, it wasn’t like he’d ever met this Lan Zhan, and what did it matter to him if Lan Zhan thought he was dumb and didn’t want to be his friend?

Wei Ying hated pity more than anything. “Whatever! I don’t need a friend anyways!” he stood in a rush and threw the brush and beautiful inkstone into the pond. They landed among the dead lotus stalks with a splash. Wei Ying’s heart twisted, and he almost dove in after them - they were so nice, and the first present someone other than Uncle had ever given him - but he couldn’t even see where they’d gone.

“A-Ying…” Shijie said with terrible pity.

The sobs came in earnest. He covered his face with both hands and ran blindly away, leaving Shijie and Jiang Cheng to stare after him, with Lan Zhan’s stupid, beautiful letter, and his presents at the bottom of the pond.

A/N

For anyone who's curious, this is the inkstone.

#the untamed #mdzs #cql #wangxian #untamed fic #fluff #angst #arranged marriage au #childhood shenanigans #yunmeng trio #ladyshadowdrake writes

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musutofu · 5 years

Text

【 When It Rains It Pours 】

The rain had been unaccounted for. Just a few rolls of thunder somewhere over distant rooftops, a dark smattering of amassing clouds, and the slightest humidity in the soft breeze. The air had that stormy quality to it; thick and balmy, the scent of something damp swimming like waves on the wind. A whisper of rain that would steal in under the cover of darkness and be gone by morning. In a way it had, creating its own early evening as the clouds thickened, knitting together a quilt of darkness that covered the city and blocked the sunlight. Only a faint glow of burning sunset lingered behind the clouds and even that didn’t last. The sky cracked open on a white bolt of lightning, a crash a thunder following. Torrents of rain followed, pummeling the earth into soggy submission as the storm rages on. Sheets of foggy white rain fall like glass bullets, shattering against the pavement with each drop. It’s nearly bruising as you venture a hand past the edge of the patio awning, palm getting smacked lower with each raindrop. The water is lukewarm but dries cold in the wind as you shake the lingering droplets from your skin. “Wait!” Kendou has the nerve to look miffed as she comes tromping out to stop you, gait uneven and breath short as she pauses to catch her breath with her hands behind her head. In one hand is a black jacket–leather with a grey hood–and she offers it to you once her breathing has steadied. “I really have no idea where my umbrella went.” She huffs to herself as she watches you put on her jacket. It’s warmer than the short sleeves you wore to enjoy the last of the unseasonably warm weather and carries the faintest hint of her perfume. “It’s fine, Kendou. You shouldn’t be so worried about me when you’re still sick. Why’d you even run all the way out here?” She laughs, then coughs; a reminder that she was sent home from training early after a run in with Komori’s Quirk. The spores should be on their way out after so many hours, but the effects are still lingering in her uneven breath. “I just don’t want you to get sick.” Her chin lifts resolutely as she stares down at you with a frown. It’s a maternal look that refuses to be denied and you tuck yourself further into your borrowed jacket. “Thank you,” you finally concede after a short staredown, “I’ll return it tomorrow.” “Thank you for looking after me. I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you.” She bows, ponytail swinging over her shoulder. “Text me when you get to your building. I know it’s a short walk and we’re on campus but I just want to make sure you’re home safe.” “I will.” She hums, waving you off as you shrug into your hood and start for home. The 1-A Alliance building is only a few minutes away from 1-B’s but the rain is disorienting. It’s hard to see anything let alone the grey concrete leading the way back to your dorm. A few times the ground turns squishy beneath your feet as you mistakenly veer off the path. With the soles of your shoes already caked in mud you decide a shortcut would be worthwhile, straying into the grass only to stop when something shifts in your periphery. It could’ve been anything, just your mind playing tricks on you in the low visibility, but something tells you to hide anyway. The squelch of your shoes tromping through the mud is mostly lost to the pounding rain as you bolt behind a tree. It’s probably nothing, just the wind swirling the falling rain into odd shapes, but then why does it look so contained. It’s almost like a vortex opening in the middle distance, deep violet and glowing with just the faintest light as it expands and someone steps out. The hair is unmistakable. A burst of bright blonde hair glowing like a candle in the night, darkened only by a bolt of black. Then there’s more. Yellow, but brighter and glowing like twin flares; eyes. Your breath stops short, scraping and catching noisily in your throat at your realization. You bring your wet hands to clamp over trembling lips as your lungs rattle with the need to cough but concealment is more important than breathing in this moment as you watch Kaminari wave his goodbyes to the Warp Gate; Kurogiri of the League of Villains. As if nothing strange has happened, Kaminari starts for the dorm, head bobbing to some unheard song under the cover of his umbrella. You cough then, a heaving noise that makes you think you’ll throw up until it’s stops. The rain stops too and when you look up Kaminari is standing over you. The rain has already dampened your face and you hope it will hide the tears of betrayal trailing down your cheeks as you swipe at your mouth. He tilts his head at you, a charming smile taking over as he pulls you up from your crouching stance. “What are you doing out here without an umbrella?” “Forgot it.” You croak. “I was looking after Kendou at the 1-B dorm and got caught in the rain. This isn’t even my jacket.” You lift your arms to show the loose fit. “Cute.” Is all he says, tugging on one of the drawstrings until it springs back into place. “You look cute in big clothes.” There’s an edge of flirtation to his voice. Had this been any other moment, if you’d arrived here just a few moments later, you’d feel butterflies stirring in your stomach. They’re still there, but the feeling turns sour and their wings feel like serrated blades. Instead of answering his playful words you sneeze. “Ah, you’re going to catch a cold.” He tosses an arm over your shoulder to huddle you closer under his umbrella. His hold doesn’t loosen until you’ve reached the dorm’s porch. You sniffle to yourself and pretend it’s the cold and not the fear as you kick the mud from your shoes. You leave them by the door with everyone else’s to be cleaned later. A hand catches on your shoulder as you start towards your room and everything inside you freezes. But when Kaminari turns you to face him he looks concerned. “Remember to take a bath so you don’t get sick.” Is all he says, leaving you to shiver by the door and pretend it’s only the cold getting to you. It becomes easy to pretend that that’s all it is as you fall ill from the wind and the rain, a stubborn cold that keeps you from class for a few days. It leaves you time alone with your thoughts and you hate it because all you can think about is what you saw that night. You want to tell someone, but who? No one would believe a U.A. student is colluding with the League and even if they did you had no evidence to back your claim. Something you saw in the rain just before you got sick? It could easily be written off as a fever hallucination. And maybe it was because Kaminari is still the same as ever. Dorkishly charming and devilishly sweet as he nurses you back to health after classes. It’s easy to forget what you saw after dreaming of such strange things while you were bedridden and it becomes a distant memory; a dream that melded with reality. Until the truth comes crashing down around you. The alarms are sounding. Someone from the outside has breached the perimeter of the campus. It’s easy to stay calm after having gone through the panicked pandemonium before only for it to have been a gaggle of nosy reporters. Except it’s the middle of the night and even reporters have enough respect to not disturb the sanctity of students’ sleep. But someone has and as Iida calls everyone’s name you realize who it was. Kaminari is missing, but so are a few other; the heavier sleepers of your class that are slowly trickling out of their rooms, yawning and rubbing at their bleary eyes. Kaminari has never been a heavy sleeper but Iida sends Kirishima to check his room just in case. When the redhead returns empty handed you step away to find Aizawa-sensei. He’s guarding the door, tired eyes holding a certain sharpness that promises protection at any cost. His mouth opens, probably to send you back to the rest of the class, only to snap shut at the tears brimming in your eyes. “I’m sorry.” Is all you can say. “This isn’t your fault–” You don’t give him a chance to say anything more, voice trembling as you stumble over your words in an effort to explain as quickly as you can that this is absolutely your fault. “It is! I should’ve said something. I thought I was just seeing things or remembering them wrong because I was sick but I know what I saw was real! I saw Kaminari with the Warp Gate villain. I saw him and I didn’t say anything and now we can’t find him and it’s all my fault!” You’re wailing now, screeching like a banshee and Aizawa-sensei pulls you into a hug, hand resting on your head to soothe your cries. It helps a little and you quiet to soft sniffling. “You should’ve said something, but I can understand why you didn’t. It’s doesn’t matter now. We know who is responsible and we know how to fight them. Everything will be fine.” He reassures you, sending you back to the others as someone calls him outside. When you rejoin the class everyone looks to be in varying states of grief and you realize they must’ve overheard your wailing. Yaomomo is the first to move towards you, collecting you in her arms as you try to stop your tears. She’s already reached acceptance, face stoic as her eyes dart to all the windows in a quick circuit. “It’s not your fault.” Sero looks terrifying, eyes burning with rage at the betrayal of his best friend. “We all trusted him. I wouldn’t have believed it either.” “Then I did my job well.” Kaminari’s voice is unmistakable and everyone shifts into a fighting stance, hesitant but still prepared to defend themselves. “Though I will admit it wasn’t all an act.” His eyes linger on you. “It would’ve been a mess if they’d sent Toga. I’m sure she’s having her own fun somewhere.” He looks around as if the girl is about to come crashing through a window. “Kaminari, if you were ever really our friend you’ll leave now and turn yourself in.” Tsu says, level headed even in the worst circumstances. “No can do, Tsu-chan.” Kaminari shrugs. The frog girl bristle at the sound of her nickname coming from a villain’s lips. “Don’t call her that.” Ashido snaps. “Only her friends get to call her that.” “Oh. I’m not a friend anymore?” He has the nerve to sound upset by the thought. “You know you aren’t.” It’s Bakugou that growls this, his temper mounting at how calm Kaminari is being. “Now get the fuck out before we take you down ourselves.” His palms spark with the promise of violence. Kaminari sighs. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” He calls your name as he readies himself for the impending fight. “Babe, come here. I don’t want you getting hurt.” A hand clamps protectively over your shoulder before your body can habitually obey his command. Even as your head tried to stop it your heart was pulling you towards him without a second thought. “No.” Iida says, already shifting you behind him. “Can’t you see you’re causing them distress by continuing to pretend you cared about any of us.” Kaminari’s brow twitches, an angry tick that you’ve come to recognize in your months together. Iida’s words have irked him and he’s about to do something rash. Instinctively you reach out to grab the back of Iida’s shirt in the hopes of pulling him out of danger but someone is already tugging on yours. Ojirou crouches in front of you, tail wrapped around your waist as Hagakure steadies you with her hand in yours. “Don’t tell me how to treat them, Iida. You don’t want to get between us, I promise you it’ll end badly.” He seethes. “For you.” The bolt of electricity hits Iida before he can get out of the way and he crumples to the floor in a mass of twitching muscles, eyes rolled back behind his glasses. His body seizes, contorting unnaturally as the electricity forces his muscles to contract and release without his consent. When is stops he’s drooling and his eyes have closed. “Iida!” Someone screams. “Bastard!” Bakugou shouts. “Traitor!” It sounds like Sato. Everyone is moving, preparing for a real fight now that it’s obvious Kaminari isn’t going to back down. Todoroki attacks first, ice fractals freezing Kaminari in place as Bakugou launches forward, blasting the blonde with a double fisted explosion that sends him flying back. He hits the floor hard, springing back up with a hand to his cheek as blood drips from the scrape Bakugou left. He charges again only to be stopped by a tremor Jirou blasts through the floor. It’s loud enough to rattle the floorboards an Kaminari sets off an indiscriminate burst that drops those closest to him into the same state as Iida. It’s a terrifying thing to watch. To see your sweet, soft Denki doing such horrible things to the people he called his friends. One by one they fall by his hand, some taking longer to down than others until it’s only the two of you left standing. You’re shaking as he prowls towards you with a proud smile on his face. It foolishly tugs at your heartstrings and tethers you to the floor. It’s hard to focus but fear has you throwing your weight into a punch, mind too scrambled to properly use your Quirk. He catches your hand and flattens your fingers, kissing the palm of your hand before holding it to his bleeding cheek. “Whey~” He’s smirking like it’s a joke and you yank your hand away before you get too lost in the feeling of familiarity. “Eh? What’s wrong, baby?” Why does he look so confused? Why does he look so hurt by your rejection? He’s the traitor not you. The larger the distance between you grows as you step away from him, backing away from the threat he poses, the more upset he looks. “Where are you going?” His expression is a dangerous mix of hurt and annoyance as he watches you move further away from him, legs barely steady enough to carry your weight. “Away from you.” Is all you can say. He doesn’t chase you but he follows, walking as if you won’t get far. You don’t. Your feet stop you at the threshold as you look out at what’s become of your beloved school grounds. It’s starting to rain, a soft pattering that’s barely enough to wet anything but the ground is already soaked. Blood paints the grass red as teachers and villains clash; students fighting and running, some crying and others already collapsed. The sight stops you in your tracks before you even step off the porch and it’s long enough for Kaminari to catch up to you. He winds an arm around your waist, chin settling on your shoulder. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” He says, voice rumbling against your spine as he sways the two of you to a melody only he can hear. “I tried my best to keep the others safe but I couldn’t do much for everyone else.” He quiets as a figure approaches. The legion of hands adorning him gives away his identity. “Bakugou and Midoriya are indisposed inside.” He reports without provocation. Shigaraki tilts his head inquisitively. “And them?” Your heart lurches in your chest as his hand lifts to point at you. Even with the distance dread fills you. Kaminari holds you tighter. “This is who I’m always talking about.” He says proudly, smiling against your neck. Shigaraki hums in understanding, brushing against you as he passes to go inside. When your body doesn’t start to crumble in Kaminari’s arms a strange cocktail of relief and dread pools in your chest. “Get off of me.” He doesn’t. “Let go.” He holds tighter. “Get away from me!” You tumble down the stairs as you wrench yourself free from his arms, your own blood adding to the carnage as your skin is scraped open on the pavement. You hardly notice the sting of pain as Kaminari’s expression turns sinister. “What’s gotten into you? Don’t you love me anymore?” You turn away instead of answering but he won’t allow you to remain silent. His footsteps approach with an ominous thud, hand lifting your chin to look him in the eye. “That’s better. It’s okay to love me, baby. I’m still me. I’m still your Denki.” His words turn pleading when they’re met with tears. “Please, love me.” “I can’t.” Your tears fall into his hair as he joins you on the ground, gathering you in his arms as your tears mingle with the rain that’s falling harder. The sirens are still wailing. People are still wailing. And all you can do is cry in the arms of a villain. “I can’t love you anymore, Denki.” His eyes are resolute when he looks up at you. “You can and you will.”

#kaminari #kaminari denki #mha kaminari #bnha kaminari #mha denki #bnha denki #kaminari x reader #kaminari imagine #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

Text

Camping ||| NCT 127 & WayV x Reader

Turn Left

Genre: Fluff, adventure, interactive choose-your-own-story, some eerie content Warning(s): References to alcohol use but nothing severe/dangerous, some eerie content Word Count: 1593 Ambience: here

[START]

~~~

Taking a deep breath, you turned on you heel slowly until you were sure you were perpendicular to the way you had just faced, before beginning your journey through the storm.

Your feet melded with shallow puddles that were starting to grow amongst the grass blades and you hummed in disgust at how the mud that formed the cradle for them squelched between your toes. Rubbing your arms you wondered how everything had happened, and why you’d chosen to leave in the first place. You genuinely regretted it, feeling just how soaked your clothes were against your skin as the wind blustered it to stick to your body, as now you were left with the discomfort of possible hypothermia as well as the boiling dread of the trip and fall that could strike at any time. Just because you took each step slowly didn’t mean you were safe, and you knew full well that getting a face full of mud really cause you to snap.

While scraping your wrist at your face, positively frozen in the grips of the storm, a cry suddenly came over the gale. It wasn’t one of misery, nor pain, it was one more of... disdain. And as it came again, it became quickly apparent that there was only one person who could have made it. Doyoung.

As if on theatrical cue, a vast triangle pierced through the dark like a christmas tree found in town squares. You were forced to cover your eyes at just how bright it was, compared to what you had been swimming in prior. And soon, silhouettes were darting across the golden canvas—one shaped like a man, another like a hand that rose and fell from the base, and finally one like a pillow.

Now you could make out Doyoung much clearer, his whining high tone enough to override the grumbling sky, but it still swallowed his words before you could catch them. Regardless, you managed to decipher that the person bickering with him was Taeyong. The man’s shadow out of the blue sat up and shimmied across the tent walls, then took a lunge at the other clearly cowering in the corner. Drawing nearer, you finally spotted what illuminated the tent walls so bright—a lamp, one of the ones that had mysteriously gone missing once the tents had been set up.

You snickered at the display, fear slowly dissipating as you eventually came to the entrance. Finally, you patted the door awkwardly in the best knock you could.

You heard silence settle suddenly inside and you wondered for a few moments that they hadn’t heard you, their argument falling into a natural lull as Taeyong threatened to cry. The shadows dipped into an area that you couldn’t see clearly from where you were, leaving you in the dark in both respects of the phrase.

You were about to make your way back, not fancying how the rain dripped off the leaves above your head and hit you with much bigger, colder spots of rain, when suddenly Taeyong’s voice rang clear. “Ghost?”

You heard Doyoung’s exasperated sigh, “Really? There’s no such thing and you know that. It was probably just a twig.”

“But—”

“We set up right next to the big tree, like you wanted—so don’t you complain about it—and what did you expect?”

“No, Doie! My point is that twigs don’t knock twice.”

There was another pause, finished with Taeyong’s whine as his tent-mate gave him a shove as he made his way to the door. The zip protested as it was yanked harshly against the grain, leading Doyoung to curse, before his face appeared in the newly formed gap.

With dark eyes wide and a guffaw on his lips he exclaimed, “Y/N? What are you doing here?” As soon as the man ran the zip further up so you could fit through without crouching you spotted Taeyong’s worried expression by the furthest yellow sheet. His features brightened as soon as he spotted you, a slender arm raising jauntily to wave, his baggy shirt sleeve rising up his solder to only fall back off it again after. The curious frown on your face morphed into a chuckle as you realised that Doyoung had been unsuccessful in keeping the single drop of liquor that it took to get Taeyong tipsy away from him .

The carer in question was currently had his hands outstretched in the rain, beckoning you in like a stray cat that got stuck outside, despite reason dictating his attentions should be on the man behind him. And as if he could hear your thoughts, Taeyong proved as such by wobbling to his feet and giggling as he nearly kicked the lamp over.

“What’s with the—you’re soaked through! Christ Y/N do you not know what a coat is?! And where are your shoes?!”

The man flurried around as you shivered in the gap, moving from watching him search for a towel down to analysing the mess on your feet. And boy was there a lot. Your soles were practically caked in slobbery brown, specks mixing with long trails of rain around your ankles and even up your calf.

You winced at the sight, and it carried over to face Doyoung when he returned, a slightly mucky pink towel brandished before him. “Quickly! Clean your feet so you can come inside!”

While you retrieved his ‘gift’, your finger accidentally caught the back of his palm, leading him to jump back with a yelp. Hearing Taeyong giggle, he quickly scampered out of the way to stand further behind, in order to let you sit by the doorway on the tarp so you could clean up your feet. He mumbled to himself as he went, cursing you out over your “special A-class of clownery”.

You only chuckled in response.

After a few minutes of cleaning you were done, and you slipped through into the warm with a shudder. The two of them had returned to prodding one another while u were busy, and it meant you were greeted with another cry from Doyoung as he bent down to close the zip once again. Glancing round, you watched the tail-end of Taeyong whipping him with a separate towel, as the man stood tipsily and made his way over to you with it.

“Hey—!”

“Aww, poor Y/N, you must be so cold!” the older cooed, completely ignoring his friend in favour of draping the towel over your head. His face, before it was obscured by old polka dotted blue, had a rosy hue, and his eyes were even bigger than usual. The delicate scar that adorned the corner of his eye was no longer hidden by his hair—tied up cutely like a sprout—and it mesmerised you even more now; how it accented his temple and pretty cheeks and made him seem even more ethereal. He began to dry your hair gently, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how he rocked your head with his motions. “Bless you, did the rain soak through? Doyoung give her some of your clothes.”

“Why not yours?!”

“Because I know you packed three times as many as you needed,” Taeyong retorted simply, scrunching his nose as your face appeared from beneath the canopy of the towel when he finally eased his hands away, “there, a little drier, right?” He combed his hand gently through your dishevelled locks of hair, letting them settle more naturally to frame your face, and he looked so adorable while he did so—with his cute smile squishing his cheeks letting his little dimples appear—that you didn’t have anywhere near the level of cruelty in you to stop him.

“You do know she’ll probably just go straight back outside again, right?” Doyoung huffed, dragging one of his hoodies out of his bag while he eyed your exchange carefully. If you weren’t so giddy from the rush of being out in the rain you perhaps would’ve decided that he was jealous, going by his light scowl and and eye roll.

As Taeyong shifted to drape your hair out of your face, cooing when it merely fell back in, Doyoung stood and held out a bundle of baggy navy to you. His features were firm, eyes staring you down to the best of his ability with his jaw clenched. It only made his cheeks puff out though, and thus didn’t create the assertive look that he was after. It was clear that he still hadn’t worked that out yet, but were you going to be the one that notified him and made the bunny look disappear? Not in your wildest dreams. “It’s clean, but you’re not going back outside in it,” he stated firmly.

You met his eyes, reaching out for the soft cotton, when at that moment there was a screech outside.

The three of you jumped, heads whipping to the front of the tent once again. Taeyong’s hand jumped to your shoulder as you frowned. “Was that… Xuxi?”

Doyoung scoffed, the tension in his body alleviating in the corner of your eye. “There’s only one man capable of making a noise that loud, that’s for sure.”

You had to admit, curiosity had struck you at the last moment. Peering round to Taeyong as he let his hand fall sheepishly, and back up to Doyoung, you finally let your eyes settle on the clothes still held up in an offer to you.

What do you do?

Accept the clothes and stay in the safe and warm

Investigate the noise outside

~~~

Masterlist

#nct #wayv #nct 127 #nct x reader #wayv x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct fluff #wayv fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #taeyong x reader #taeyong fluff #doyoung x reader #doyoung fluff #nct interactive story #wayv interactive story #nct 127 interactive story

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bo-bo-bean · 5 years

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Talk To Me

Talk To Me Kris has been silent recently. Not that it wasn't TOO surprising, but much more silent than usual. In Ralsei's castle, Susie noticed this. He's been like this all day, staring down at the ground. Unfortunately, it was just her with him. Ralsei was in the kitchen and Lancer was in his own castle, so it looked like this was up to Susie. "... Kris..." she sighed. "Will you, just, stop being like that?" Kris didn't respond. "... Kris, Dammit... can't you just talk to me!? I'm trying my best here, you know I'm not good at this mushy crap!" Nothing. She groaned and laid down on the couch, Kris still being silent. Susie's mind raced, thinking of what to do. She glanced over, seeing he had no shoes on. Kris would always be polite and take off his shoes when entering someone's home to not track mud or dirt. Susie thought it was annoying... But not today. She sat up again. "So... not gonna talk to me, then?" Silence. Kris had one leg crossed over another, looking down, his hands together. She sighed and leaned back. "... I'm giving you one last chance, dude. Talk or else." Kris wasn't too scared of Susie since they were close friends. But still. He scooted a little, Susie grinning with a chuckle. "That's how it's how gonna be, huh?" She leaned over to Kris, him looking up at her in her eyes. "... Kris... you know I'm your friend... But... I'm also... the tickle monster!!" She grabbed his ankles, a yelp escaping Kris's mouth. She locked her arm around his ankles, wiggling her claws in front of his feet, but not touching them. Kris tried pulling his feet out, curling his toes. "You put this upon yourself, Kris!" She began to scrape her claws up and down his soles, shrieks and giggles escaping Kris's mouth. EEEheeeheeheeheehahaaahaaheee!! EEEHEEEheehehaahaeheeehee...!!" "Aaah now you're saying something...!" she grinned a flashy smile. Every time she got to the middle of the sole, he would squeal and squeak, toes fanning out. She tickled the middle of his foot, getting the same reaction, but this time, but dug her fingers in between his toes. "Gyaaahahahahahahaaa!!! Eeyaaaahahahahahahahahahaa!!!" Kris leaned his head back, squeezing the couch cushions tightly as Susie wiggled her fingers between his toes. He tried desperately to curl them up, but no use. He was under her tickly clutches and she dare not let go. "What, did I find a sweet spot here?" she wondered, wiggling her claws against the toes. "Did I Kris? Does this tickle? I bet it tickles badly, doesn't it? You can't take this, can't ya? I bet you can't...! I bet you wish you talked earlier, don't ya, Kris?" Kris could only laugh and squeal, grabbing a pillow and burying his face in it, laughing hard. When Susie got to under his toes, he absolutely screamed out, trying to bend his knees. "EEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAAA!!!!! YAAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAA!!!" "Another sweet spot, eh?" she raised an eyebrow. "Man, you're just ticklish everywhere. Now you'll think twice before removing your shoes in MY house, eh?" Kris tried to call out for Ralsei, but it seems he was singing to himself while preparing the meal. And the sizzling of the food didn't help too much. "Man, Kris. I wouldn't want to be in your position. There's still a lot to tickle on your feet." With that, Susie scratched along the arches, Kris booming with cackles. "AAAAHaahahahahahahahahaha!! Kyaahahahahahahahaa!!" He arched his back, stomach popping up. However, this have Susie a chance to blow a raspberry on his belly, making him curl up and scream and laugh. She moved onto his heels, but when he only giggled, she went back to his arches, blowing a raspberry everytime he jumped his stomach up. After a few minutes more, Susie knew it was time to stop. She ceased her tickling, but still kept his feet locked in while he panted and giggled. "So... wanna talk now?" Kris panted for a few seconds more, then nodded a bit. "Good." "J-just... I... h-had a bad day," he panted a bit more, sitting up. "Didn't really sleep well last night and then I forgot to do my homework... then Berdly just being annoying..." "Yeah, I hate Berdly," she nodded. "So you're just stressed." Kris nodded, Susie smiling. "... can... uh..." "What?" Kris blushed and looked away. "... can... I... have more...?" Susie grinned. "More what?" She knew what he wanted, but a little teasing wouldn't hurt. Kris looked down more, blushing. "... t-t... tickling...?" Susie laughed and tickled his sides, Kris squealing and laughing hysterically. "You're a weirdo, ya know that?" she chuckled. "But I need more weirdo friends like you."

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thebifrostgiant · 5 years

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If You Know Where to Look - Part 10 (1/2)

Summary: in which culture shock is more like culture pleasant surprise. You return something, eat something you shouldn’t, and put on a grand show. Loki makes (up) a friend

Part 1 / Previous

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 2,674

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Chapter 10: The Whole World Blind

Suddenly, there is nothing. Nothing exists. And nothing exists everywhere. Where once stood a heavy-trunked spruce waving bristly, fragrant arms over your head, over Loki’s, where shifting nettlefall and rain-slicked loam were once scattered underfoot, where the prince’s grey-green eyes, burnished and unfathomable in the emberlight, once met yours like the edge of a river trembling over a precipice, there is now oblivion. Emptiness is all that’s extant, freezing the breath in your lungs, your fingers now clasping at naught, this blink of nonexistence surging with a tremendous weightlessness, veiling your senses like a pellicle of gossamer threads.

And then, just as suddenly, there is ground beneath your feet again, beneath your knees as you choke and stumble, cold weight in your hand falling away as you reach up to fist the cloth over your heart, chest heaving, and fight through the sudden bleariness of tears and the tightness of your throat.

It’s bright, you notice as you shift your weight to sit properly, still idly stroking the sleek fabric of your shirt, because it’s there, because you can feel it. Bright and dry and crisp, and not the kind of transient coolness brought about by the wet breath of rain, but the sharpness and tenacity of a true chill. Curiosity settles over the remnants of panic in your mind like ashes over defunct coals, and though you’re still shivery and willing back the impulse to retch, you look around.

Blanched, sweet-smelling grass up to your shins waves in a breeze like ripples of pale yellow water along rolling hillocks, upland of a grove of dapple-leaved fruit trees in neat rows. The sky shows no trace of storm, nor any cloud at all in its milky, muted blueness. Your renewed breathing stutters again as the strangeness, the jarring otherworldliness of the place catches up. This is nothing you recognize. This is... this is not Asgard.

You turn, remembering, to your companion, a desperate question on your tongue, but the prince seems unperturbed by whatever Norns-unwilling thing had just happened, and is regarding your surroundings with what could pass as a sedate sort of interest. He looks wrecked: tangles of dripping black hair curling under his ears, clothes spattered with mud and moss and flecks of forest dross, wrists going purple beneath the abraded skin. As he stirs, feeling your gaze and returning it, you see that the whole left side of his face is a mess of drying blood trickling down from where it’s clumped up at his temple. As his eyes meet yours, you realize you have no idea what you want to say.

“Midgard.” He manages an even sort of curtness, though his voice is rougher than you remember.

You blink, thrown for a second at the intensity of his gaze, and then the meaning of the word sinks in. You chew your lip as you consider the entailment of that. Nearly alone on a whole other realm. Thousands of miles from your home. You’re not sure how that even happened.

Loki is still looking at you, or toward you, anyway, uncharacteristically lacking in blithe haughtiness, lashes stuck together and damp brows drawn, frowning like he’s reached some conclusion he doesn’t care for. The remoteness of his stare is almost as unsettling as whatever vacuum or unreality you’d passed through had been. You wrap your arms around your bent legs, trying to avoid the worst of the cold.

“You-“ he starts, then hesitates, eyes flicking to your feet in the grass, taking in the grime-caked shoes, the bloody remnants of blisters on your heels, the snags and little rips in the woven threads of your leggings. No doubt you’re in as sorry a state as he, you think, and the hair that’s clinging to the back of your neck starts to tickle. You want to duck away, to somehow hide from his sight, but there is nowhere to go, not really, so you settle for a deeply unimpressed glare.

He sighs, and starts again.

“Why did you help me?”

Why did I-

The unbelieving half-formed thought dissipates with the dregs of your benignity as another shifts into your remembrance, this one speaking in that disdainful, polished-steel voice that you recall.

Stupid, witless, cowardly.

Ah. And there it is, the reason for the poor prince’s confusion. Wondering how someone so described could have done such a deed that wasn’t stupid, that might even be considered brave. A deed that he knows cost you something. No gratitude, no appreciation, just the bemusement of one regarding pieces of a puzzle that don’t add up. You turn your head away, eyes trained resolutely on the grass, on the long, swaying blades, focusing on that and not the straining of your clenched fists, the heat in your face, the further fraying of your already fragile nerves.

“I believe,” you say, once you can speak in a calm, numb tone. “That I owed you a favor. You seem the type to collect on your debts. I thought it might be in my best interest to settle the score.” You fling the words at him like arrows, no less sharp for their lack of inflection. It’s no coincidence that you let Bǫlverkr’s words slide past your teeth.

It’s quiet for several heartbeats, nothing more than the rush of wind in your ears and brittle grass swishing in time.

“I see.”

And Loki is as blank as you’ve ever seen him as he rises to his feet, no indication of what he may be thinking infiltrating his facade. You don’t imagine for a moment that you’ve managed to actually hurt him, but the careful vacancy makes you suspect that your answer was somehow not what he was hoping for.

He walks away from you, and you watch, impassive and vaguely amused. He rolls his shoulders, his neck, combs through his hair like he has a hope of fixing it. His fingers pass through the back of it several times before he lets his hand drop. He doesn’t go far, not really, just roves up the gentle slope of the hillside until you can no longer hear the rustle of his steps or see the tension he carries in his back. Until you can breathe a little easier.

He lifts his face to the sky and stands still, though what he’s looking at, looking for, you’re not sure. There is nothing there but the washed out sun at its noontide peak.

His mouth moves like he’s saying something, and you tip your head inquisitively, but you can’t make it out, the words lost to the wind and distance. Loki waits, and nothing happens.

“Heimdall!” he shouts, and this time you can hear him call for the gatekeeper, hear the irritation in his demand. He crosses his arms.

There is no roar, no flash of light, no sign of the Bifrost whatsoever. Heimdall cannot hear him, or perhaps is refusing to listen. You wonder, idly, how many people Prince Loki has managed to piss off.

He stalks back over to you, scowling as you simply sit in the grass feigning disinterest. Like it’s your fault he and Heimdall aren’t on speaking terms. Like he expects you to do something about it.

“Get up,” Loki hisses, impatient and strung, though he does graciously offer his hand. You eye it for a second, but take it, cold against your own, and he pulls you to your feet.

“Well?” He’s thrumming with something internally, you can feel it from where you stand far too near, coming off of him and filling the air like the smell of him, soot and pineblood and, well, real blood.

You step back, hiding a wince as the rim of your slipper, course with drying dirt, digs into your heel, and regard the prince coolly. You consider for a moment the borders of your spite, whether you’ll make him confess to his failure. Admit that he needs help, make him feel the weight of it. But no. You are not cruel. You are not like him.

You tip your head, letting your back face Loki along with all of your indifference. It’s cold, standing at this elevation, with the updraft buffeting you, feeling every point of contact with your drying clothes like ice on your skin. Still, as your hair flicks about your shoulders and loosens from its tie, you resolutely suppress a shiver and instead address the empty sky above.

“All-Seer,” you acknowledge meekly, Loki’s opposite in that regard, the virtue of being polite still intact from a lifetime of not being cosseted by riches beyond count. “Would you send the rainbow bridge for myself and,” your mouth quirks with the taste of requisite courtesy, “my prince?”

You wait, eyes searching, willing the sun’s weak rays to warm you.

***

His anger warms him. Midgard is colder than Asgard. It is not summer here. It suits Loki well, never one to take issue with the cold, not when it hides the uncertain tremble of his fingers as the sky stays discouragingly still and blank.

He runs his hands through his hair again, fingers sliding on instinct to the back of his neck, lingering there nearly mindlessly. He scratches lightly, as if to soothe an itch, but the feeling remains, like it’s buried beneath the skin. Loki frowns as his fingertips scrape over something on his neck, some bit of dirt or bark tangled in the strands. He reaches for it, touches it, and lets his hand fall away. He blinks, confusion clearing, and watches the sky once more.

A bird wheels overhead, a dark red-brown shape against the pallid backdrop, wingbeats slow and superfluous as it glides on the breeze. His eyes trace it for a long moment, the sole motion from above.

“Heimdall?” her voice calls again, tentative. She rubs at her arms, and when she turns to him again, a response not forthcoming, her eyes are wide and confused and just as scared as he is beginning to feel. Just as scared as he’s felt for a while now.

His mind, which had been welling up with suspicion, is now a flood of uneasy confirmation. Somehow, Heimdall’s omniscient gaze has, impossibly, found its limit at the very earth he stands on. Only ever has he been hidden from the Watcher’s view when he willed it, when he erected shields to hide behind as he slipped through the cracks and crevices and tight little corners that were known to him alone. But he is not shielding now, nor is the girl, and unless Heimdall is dead without replacement — which Loki knows is more improbable than even being lost to his reaches — there should be no reason for the calls to go unheeded. Heimdall, no matter how much he misliked and mistrusted Loki, at least would never leave the innocent girl stranded. He cannot see them. And they both know it.

Loki fights the unexpected urge to laugh, a wholly inappropriate thing with the situation being as unfunny as it is. But it’s all so much, and he craves some sort of release, and she’s looking at him like she thinks he can save her, so different from the scorching glower of earlier. Now she’s willing to play nice, now that she’s been leveled with reliance. And the most mockingly ironic part of it all, he thinks sardonically, is that he has nothing to offer.

Loki makes a show of pivoting on his heel and descending the hill. He shuffles his feet, following the cant of the earth and feeling for any loose rocks or burrowed holes filled with snakes or small rodents that might be hiding under all the grass and heath flowers growing in clumps.

He makes his way to the orchard, until he is walking among the small, lovely trees with leaves flashing silver as they’re moved by the wind. Each tree bears clusters of shiny pink fruits like ornaments, and up close, Loki can now make out that they are apples. Curiously, he plucks one and admires its strange blushing shade, so unlike the green and gold apples of Asgard. He hears footsteps behind him and, with carefully even breathing, he turns, biting into the flesh of the fruit with a satisfying snap as he goes, and directs a questioning expression at his not fully welcome company.

***

You watch Prince Loki crunch his way through his apple, eyebrow raised in challenge. When you don’t reply, don’t take the bait, he merely picks another fruit and tosses it your way. He’s obviously going for unaffected, and snarkily so, but you’d seen him freeze, seen the half second of uncertainty at the prolonged expectant silence skyward. Or perhaps, it was certainty after all. Heimdall would not, could not answer. But it had been there, wavering on his face with a strange sort of openness, unhidden for the smallest moment.

Truthfully, it was an echo of how you’d been feeling. Vulnerable. Exposed among the barren stretch of hills, though walking amongst the rows of apple trees eases that some. Bitterness recedes to a reluctant dribble of compassion as your eyes roam the crusted over, scabbing trail of blood marring his cheek, the dark bloom of a bruise seeping under his eyebrow. It is not, you exhale jaggedly, his fault. The cloying fear, the exhaustion, the raw volatility are all the residual fallout of something so far beyond either of your control, and until you can figure out another way home, it’s probably best not to poke at the sensitive bits that Loki is keeping determinedly guarded.

Instead, you delicately bite at the apple while contemplating a peace offering of your own.

“You’re hurt,” you say, somewhat lamely after you swallow a sweet mouthful.

Loki blinks, like he’d forgotten what must have been at least a significant amount of pain.

“Not terribly.” He shrugs and raises a hand to wave it over his temple, much like he’d done before when healing your gashed cheek.

Somehow the knowledge of his magic had lapsed your mind. Somehow it had lapsed his. And it was so obvious, too. Loki, if nothing else, is one tricky bastard. Of course he’d be able to wriggle out of this whole mess with his sorcery. Another reason antagonizing him is a stupid idea.

But, also like before, the wound does not disappear. Only this time, it doesn’t even begin to close, does not change at all. Loki touches the spot, examines his now bloody fingers, and tries again. He tries to heal his wrists next when that doesn’t work, and it’s clear by the frustration on his face, the jerky manner his movements have adapted, that he is unable to do so much as stop the bleeding with his magic. Doesn’t seem to be able to do anything with magic whatsoever.

The thought thuds in your chest like your rapid heartbeat, the annoyance and concentration on the prince’s face freezing into something much more helpless and wary. Because now, undeniably, you’re trapped, the open hills and empty sky as your cage. The last vestiges of any means of escape have utterly crumbled, and you have nothing but the ragged clothes on your back, a very limited knowledge of Midgard, the ambivalence of the comity between yourself and the prince, and the sores on your ankles.

And then, before you can fully comprehend any of it, someone is shouting.

“Hey!”

You recoil, and Loki moves out of sight behind the tree, dropping the remainder of his apple.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the voice shouts again, steadily closer and lilting in a very foreign cadence.

And then you remember the one other thing you do have, even if it is not your own. You pull the tiny knife from its inapt sheath, where it has somehow not bitten into your skin. You hesitate for a moment, bejeweled handle pressing into your palm. Then you flip the blade and hold it out, offering the haft to Loki.

(2/2)

#loki fic #loki fanfic #loki/reader #loki/you #loki x reader #loki x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki fandom #loki imagine #if you know where to look #bifrostgiant writes

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flyingpups · 4 years

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Chapter 2

The trek was long and tedious, with the blistering hot sun down on her head. She took great caution avoiding the guards patrol whenever they passed by. There were small cuts and scrapes on the soles of her feet, at least there would be if there wasn’t a thick layer of mud, dirt, and pebbles coating her feet. She had been on the road for several months now, living off the kindness of strangers, whenever the inner demons, that is her hunger would sing their symphonies as loud as they pleased. Some were not as kind as they should be, claiming her to be a vagrant to try to steal their gold. She would often be chased away with someone behind, throwing stones at her. She would receive a different, much kinder response from the mystical creatures of the forest. Though, they were first hesitant the first few weeks of her venture.

They have a disdain for humans, considering they were hunted, a mere few thousand years ago. When heavy rain downpoured during the night, the forest nymphs would create shelters made of; grass, sticks and leaves to keep her dry. When a blanket of snow encased the ground, the gnomes would fashion her boots made of drakenfalk fur; thick brown and black fur with clawed bumps at the bottom of the shoes. The forest creatures proved to be far more kinder to her than the humans, but she relied on both to survive. Leaving from Destian was a difficult task for the heart, as that was her home for many years. She had to live with the fact that it was her home no longer. Harder in thought but easier to accept, she persevered and trekked onward to whatever future beheld her.

As she ventured forward, the town of Hiradanza peeked over the horizon. It was a small town consisting of mainly farmers and blacksmiths. She began to recall a tale about a man living here, being able to craft the finest jewelry ever blessed by the heavens. He’d be so talented, they say he could breathe the fire directly into the forge, and spit icy winds to cool the metal. Of course, they were all wise tales but impressive nonetheless.

As she entered the village, she made sure to pull her hood down as far as she could. Impairing her vision was nothing compared to avoiding the attention of others. This… proved to be a somewhat difficult task as some of the townspeople, kind as they are, attempted to invite her inside their business for a meal, trinkets, or simply just to share fables. She politely denied with her hand gestures and continued passing through, looking around for an inn to unwind.

The sleeping dragon. Taking a deep breath, she headed inside the building. It was a small cabin with a rose thorn design etched into the doorway. The interior of the inn seemed to be bathed by the sky, as an ocean of blue light emitted the surrounding area. The walls are painted a calming glacial blue, supplemented with accented vertical dark blue stripes. Hanging from the ceiling were white and blue chandeliers holding candles scented with dragons blood. The flooring is a cooled dark hardwood with a great forest inspired ashen rug to enhance the decor. As she stepped inside, basking in the glow of the room, the innkeeper called her over to the front desk. “Hello ma’am, will you be staying with us tonight?” she asked politely. The hooded girl simply nodded her head and placed 5 coins of silver on the counter. Her demeanor quickly changes to shock when noticing her bandaged fingers; grabbing hold of her hand quickly, she examines it with great caution and detail. Her questions become motherly and numerous, causing the hooded girl to withdraw her hand rapidly.

“I’m sorry, that was very rude of me. It isn’t my place to question the guest about their history. Please, you may have the room at the end of the hall. It is quite lovely with a view of the stream and the forest. You may call me Lisbeth if you need anything.”, she states calmly, handing her room key and spare wraps for her to use. The hooded girl nodded, smiled through her bandages and briskly walked to her room. Once inside, she closed the blinds, threw her hood onto the floor, and proceeded to fall back onto the bed.

She sunk deep into the bed, unable to move; more so, unwilling to move as she hadn’t felt such comfort in a long while. It was as if the nimbus floated her and soared through the deep oceans of the blue sky. She kept her eyes closed and soared high, higher through the clouds and across vast lands. The sheets were so pleasant and soothing, the feeling of clouds soaking in tepid air had reached deep inside her core. To her surprise, the bed was quite large. The idea of her sinking past the floorboards, or merging with the bed itself popped up silently behind.There was a flame lit underneath her, not sweltering enough to burn her, but pleasant enough to warm her soul. It was too much for her to handle, as the candles dimmed, so did her cognizance soon fade to slumber. She dreamt, she slept for hours and hours, as if she were cursed by the goddess of dreams, she slept peacefully.

She was awoken abruptly by a soft knock on the door, and a calming voice peeking through. “Good morning sleeping drim”, Lisbeth voiced softly. She entered the room quietly while carrying; spare towels, rag scraps, and a set of clothes to change into. The hooded girl yawned loudly, pulling the blanket over her head, and attempted to drift back into dormancy. Lisbeth simply sighs softly and walks over to her, ripping the sheets off of her. “You have been sleeping for three days now, and frankly the smell is beginning to rot the walls.” she states, whilst covering her nose. Grunting loudly, the hooded girl sits up straight and sighs. Lisbeth takes her by the hand and rushes to the restroom in a haste. She hesitates greatly, backing herself up against the door while protecting her arms. Lisbeth pauses for a moment, glances over to her filthy rags and sits in waiting. “I understand I am not in a position to be trusted” she responds gently. “I won’t force it upon you, but please allow me to mend your wounds before they become infected. If you have any wounds to mend that is.” she reached out her hand in a passive movement. With some reassurement, the girl agreed and stepped forward. Taking off her hood was similar to unwinding a spring, her hair shot out as a large ball of knotted mess. Lisbeth nearly giggled by her unkempt hair, but stifled it away.

Removing the bindings from the young girl’s hand, she fixates on the teardrop imprint on the girl’s middle finger. “You know, I never received a name from you yet, little drim.” She shakes her head in denial, allowing her to continue removing the bandages. Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Lisbeth lets out a small smile towards her. “Well you are going to need a name if you will be staying here. I’m sure ‘little drim’ wouldn't be a good title for you either. How does Dew sound for a name then. A raindrop falling towards a beautiful flower.” Glancing over to her imprint, she smiles through her covered mouth and nods her head. “Dew it is then, a beautiful name for this budling.” Dew’s arms were smooth as silk, which was odd considering it had been essentially a month since her last bathing. Dew’s uneasiness increases evermore so as Lisbeth continues unwinding her, as if she were a top wound up by a string. For the first time, her scars were in front of a complete stranger, willingly if anything. Lisbeth held her up, and sat her in the tub filled with piping hot water. She reluctantly tried climbing out from the sudden heat. Giving it a few moments, the soothing effects soon melted her composure and caused her to relax her muscles. Though, it was immediately interrupted by Lisbeth dumping shampoo and hot water over her head. With an hour of vigorous scrubbing and silent screams, Dew was clean from head to toe.

“Will you get dressed already, I picked those clothes out myself Dew.” she proclaims from outside the doorway. Dew bangs on the door hard to insinuate her to shut up. After a few moments, she steps outside from the restroom, her hands wrapped behind her timidly. She was dressed in a combination of blue and green; a deep hooded cloak to cover her face, accompanied with a embroidered golden sleeping dragon design on the back. Her tunic flowed downward towards her hips, with velvet linings on the collar. Her trousers were loose but firm enough not to get snagged on anything jagged. Her shoes were jet black and soft accompanied with matching black socks. She wrapped a velvet green scarf around her neck and over her mouth to conceal her lips. Taking out some long sleeved fingerless gloves from the pocket of the cloak, she spun around, admiring her outfit.

“I wanted something more colorful for you, but knowing how you came in, it seemed like you did not want to be noticed. So tell me, do you love your outfit?” she asked her, sitting atop her bed. Dew smiled and gave her a thumbs up, enjoying the warmth of her attire.She took a moment to recollect about beast named drake and where it might be. Writing this question on a piece of paper, she asked Lisbeth. “That would be here, the drake is ‘The sleeping dragon’. Though I haven’t heard someone call it by its previous name in a while. Pray chance, where did you hear that name?” she asked Dew. Dew simply shook her head and smiled at her. She collected what little bags she had been gifted with and proceeded to the doorway. “You are always welcome back here Dew. A child shouldn’t be wandering the streets by herself”, she simply nodded her head and closed the door on her way out. Dew takes a moment to look back at the inn, and continues on her journey. At least now, she has somewhere she can come back to. At most, that is what she is hoping for. A new place and a new friend she can potentially trust.

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prettyblossoms · 7 years

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Lost in Limbo Ch. 8 ( A Reddie Fic)

Summary: Richie and Eddie are struggling with their sexuality. Eddie is madly in love with his best friend. Meanwhile, Richie is trying to suppress the gay thoughts he has for the other boy. Will they be able to find the truth in each other or are they destined to crash and burn?

Pairings: Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly.

Warnings: Angst, adult jokes, homophobic language, high school bullies, groping, kissing, making out, aged up characters, violence, and attempted sexual assault.

Chapter 8: It Ends Tonight

The gray clouds moved in closer together making the sky darken. As the wind blew harshly a loud rumble erupted, and a flash of light brightened the atmosphere in the distance It only lasted a short time before the darkness took over Quarry once again. Sprinkles of rain began trickling down wetting the rocks and turning the dirt into mud. Inadvertently, Eddie took a couple of steps back adding to the distance between himself and the imminent threat; Henry Bowers. He could feel the ragged rocks beneath the soles of his converse shoes, creating another level of discomfort. His whole body wracked uncontrollably under Henry's piercing gaze; those eyes were dark like burned coal, cruel and merciless.

Eddie wished he could walk right over and punch the look off of Henry's smug face. Anger still lingered deep inside of him from the last time they had taunted him, which caused a strain in his and Richie's friendship. Given the fact that he was all alone and Bowers had vowed to kill him, he knew he couldn't just throw himself into a fight. He had to get the fuck out of there. The amber orbs that used to glisten and shine were dull and widened causing his eyebrows to raise and his forehead to crease ever so slightly. His mouth moved, he wanted to scream bloody murder. He was in trouble, and he needed help. But no words ever managed to formulate. His airway was tightening, and his tongue felt thick in his mouth, blocking everything but muffled syllables. “Ri-Ri-tch-ie.” “Look, guys, the faggot is trying to communicate with us. Here I thought B-b-bill was the one with the stuttering problem. Or is that something you’ve picked up from your time in his bedroom ?” The dirty blonde spoke menacingly eliciting more shakes out of Eddie.

Eddie's face hardened as he clenched his jaw impossibly tight. His small hands clamped to into fists by his sides as a way to force his body to stop moving. It worked on his upper body, but his legs disobeyed him and continued to wobble together.

Shit, I'm about to die. But, I'm smarter than all of those idiots combined, right? Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! His eyes darted back and forth as he thought about finding a way out of the situation. The only reasonable thing that came to mind was a long shot, he knew. "Back off, Bowers." Eddie's said trying to sound convincing, despite the shakiness of his voice. "The rest of my friends are going to be here any minute. Seven against four is stupid, even for you." The smirk erased from Henry Bowers face, but those eyes still held the same fury. Eddie's heart was beating so loudly in his chest that he thought he was about to have a heart attack. The rain was soaking him, and his body shivered from the cold gusts of wind stinging his skin. If this didn't work, he knew he was finished. "Oh no! Did you hear that Belch, the Losers are going to come and get us!" Henry mocked as he began to move towards the smaller male. At first, he was practically sprinting, but out of nowhere, he slowed down. He walked towards Eddie agonizingly slow, taking one step at a time while taking in Eddie's frightened expression. Like an animal taunting their prey right before pouncing on them. Eddie felt his heart fall deeply into his stomach burning when it came into contact with the acidic liquids inside. His eyes widened as wide as saucers, but his gaze remained transfixed on the male coming towards him. At that moment he knew he wasn't going to leave. Not without putting up a fight. Henry was so close now that their chests were almost touching. Eddie could smell the vodka and weed coming from the other males uneven breaths. He wanted to hurl, but he couldn't determine if the cause was the offensive odor or the fear making him nervous. Eddie peered past Henry, and he saw that Vic and Belch hadn't followed their leader. They only stared, waiting to be called on like the mindless puppets they were. Bowers had a weak spot, meaning he had a chance to get away. With as much strength as he could muster his fist plummeted into Henry's face, right into the bandage covering his injured nose. He must have caught the other male off guard again because Henry almost fell to the floor. Eddie pivoted his body and began to run through the mud, ignoring the heaviness of his feet. He could hear Bower's screams directly behind him, but he didn't dare to turn around. Instead, he ran faster as he began to go over the slippery rocks. Without warning, he felt a massive figure landing on him forcing him into the rocks below. His right wrist rolled beneath the pressure and his upper thigh collided with a particularly sharp rock, cutting him open. The pain was so intense that he bellowed out in agony. "Get the fuck off of me, you fat piece of shit!" He tried to push against the body but was forced down even further. Eddie could hear Henry Bower's slowly making his way over, the sound of his chain rattling was an indication of that. "No one is coming to help! You should have just taken the beating like a fucking man," Henry screamed wildly. "But you wouldn't know anything about being a man, would you Eddie? You're a fucking disgrace! A good for nothing faggot !" The weight crushing Eddie came off, but before he had another chance to run away, he was grabbed harshly and shoved into Henry Bowers. A barrage of punches met Eddie's face, making sickening sounds upon impact. The adrenaline was rushing through his body so he could feel the punches, but the pain wasn't registering yet. Blood was seeping from his thigh and now his nose. Henry pushed the smaller man into the ground, securing Eddie in place by straddling his waist. Then he placed a bruisingly tight grip around the younger man’s throat, forcing it in the upright position. Eddie could feel the blood from his nose seeping into the back of his throat almost gagging him with the overwhelming taste of metallic. It rolled down his throat like a river so he had to swallow it to prevent choking. Fuck, he had to get out of there. Even having the strain on his throat, he managed to say, "They're coming, wait and see Bowers." Henry grabbed a fistful of Eddie's hair and yanked it to maneuver Eddie's face to stare into his. "I know for a fact that no one is going to help you, faggot. You wanna know why?" "They are coming. I don't give a fuck about what you have to say, Bowers!" Eddie retorted. "Are you sure you don't give a fuck, Eds? I'm sure you've fucked around with your faggoty friends. That's probably the only reason why they keep you around !" Eddie began to kick his legs, trying to get free from the older man on top of him. "Go to hell and don't fucking call me that!" Henry pulled Eddie's brown locks harder forcing a hiss to escape his lips. "So damn feisty! All of this isn't for nothing." He stared at Eddie, who was as pale as a ghost. "Oh, I get it. You've tried to, huh? But none of them wanted you . I'm right. Aren't I ?" Eddie's gaze averted away from Henry as he felt tears coming to his eyes. The thought of the kiss with Richie was still fresh in his mind, so the cruel words hit him like a bullet. Henry was so close that he noticed and moved his hand from the smaller boys hair to his chin. He knew the younger male's spirit was breaking. "You know, that is the exact reason why I found you. Your dear friend Richie helped me out." Something primal snapped in Eddie as brought up his leg and kneed Henry hard in the back. The blinding tears ran freely down his cheeks, mixing in with the rain. "SHUT THE FUCK UP! Richie would never do anything like that, ever!" Henry laughed at him in response. "If that's true, then how do I know you come here every Thursday at 4:00 PM? He told me he couldn't associate with a fag like you anymore." Eddie felt the hope drain from his body as Henry's words dawned on him. His mind began replaying the scene from yesterday. Richie dancing with him, kissing him, and then pulling away with a disappointed look on his handsome face. As he tried to get away, Eddie had reminded him about meeting at the Quarry at the usual time, which was just around the time Henry stated. 4:00 PM. His thoughts were interrupted by a crushing blow that forced his head to bounce of the ground. Henry was above him, saying something, but all he could hear was the buzzing in his ears. The edges of the world began to close in on him going completely black. His vision cleared when he felt pairs of legs stomping on his stomach and his chest, knocking the wind out of his body. Once they seized, he felt his body being dragged upwards so that he was on his knees. The rocks scraped his skin on the way up. "Belch, Vic, go keep watch. Make sure to tell me if you see someone headed this way." The other two males didn't even bother to ask why and just did what they were told. Henry watched them walk away, and once he felt like they were far away enough, he spoke. "Tell you what, Kaspbrak. You can make all of this go away, for a price." Henry's hand moved to clasp onto his belt loosening the leather strap. Roughly, Henry shoved Eddie back into the ground causing the rocks to scratch Eddie's back. Eddie grunted in pain when he felt fingers underneath the waistband of his shorts. "I am going to take away all of your dignity, Kaspbrak. Everyone is going to see you for the faggot that you are after this." Eddie's body began to jerk, and he grabbed onto rocks that were arm's length away desperately trying to pull his way out of the other man's hold. "Hell, you'll probably like it. Kaspbrak." The asthmatic was wheezing so hard that he started to become light headed. Weakly, his hand reached out and ended up gripping onto a large rock. It fell out of its firm place in the mud and Eddie wrapped his fingers around it tightly. Without hesitation, he smacked it into Henry Bower's face using the rest of his strength. When Henry stumbled off of him, the bottom of Eddie’s converse shoe met his nose, breaking it even further. Eddie scrambled to get away, crawling on his knees ignoring his body's cries of misery. He made it back onto his feet but fell back down; his body was so sore and heavy that his legs were unable to carry him. Sobs wracked through his entire form as more tears streaked down his cheeks. He was helpless, and there was no chance of him getting away. Those unloving hands snagged onto his hair once again pulling so firmly that some of his hair was ripped from his skelp. "You should have taken the easy way out, faggot. Now I am really going to fucking kill you !" Henry spat angrily, dragging Eddie into the Quarry's waters. Everything happened too quickly, giving Eddie no time to grasp what was about to occur. Upon making contact with the icy water, Eddie gasped. It jabbed Eddie's skin like glass, forcing him howl out in pain. Henry pushed him to lay down in the shallow end, completely submerging him in the water. He choked on a scream that threatened to come out when the water penetrated the wound on his thigh. The body on top of him weighed him down, making it impossible to come up for much-needed air. He tried to hold his breath but felt Henry grab onto his thigh to hold him down, digging his sharp fingernails into the injury. His mouth opened subconsciously to let out a yell, but the water muffled his plea. Involuntarily, he began to breathe in the liquid, burning his throat like hot lava. Everything around him began spinning, as the water started to overtake his body completely. He felt any resistance he had before come to an abrupt halt and his body went numb. Henry was about to dunk his head back down again for good measure when he heard Belch scream, "We gotta run! Someone is coming, Henry!" Henry grit his teeth together as he looked back down at the boy beneath him. "So long, faggot." He dropped the boy's face again in the water before sprinting off towards his vehicle.

It was now 5:30 PM and Beverly was laying in her bed waiting for 7:00 PM to finally roll around. Her thoughts consumed her to the point where she could hardly think about anything other than Eddie and Richie. Eddie was acting stranger than usual, exhibiting much more risky behaviors. Richie was quieter today than he had been all year, and no one even had to beep him to get to that point. He didn't try to joke around to get his way out of trouble. Instead, he avoided them all day long, which was not in Richie's character at all. Earlier that day it sounded like a good idea that she would be the one to convince Richie to go to Eddie's house. She was up for the task and knew that she could get Richie to slip some information to her, at least. The confidence she once had became dread when Richie ditched the classes he had with the other Losers. He didn't even try to cover his tracks with excuses. Worst of all, Richie didn't want to be around Eddie, which was undoubtedly a sign of the apocalypse. Richie hardly went anywhere without the other boy. Everyone noticed they were their best selves when in the presence of the other. In a way, Beverly thought they made each other better. By sparing the piece of them the other didn't possess, they became a whole person. For Richie, he was always genuinely happy, leaving that fake facade at home for another day. Richie came up with the funniest jokes when the other man was around, and although Eddie would act like it didn't phase him, he eventually would begin shrieking with deep laughter. Eddie's giggles must have been contagious to Richie because he would throw his head back and laugh right along with him, smiling as tears sat on the edge of their eyes. In Eddie's case, Richie made him more secure with himself. Eddie was usually very uptight about germs, getting hurt or in trouble. The thought alone would have his nerves shot, and when he began thinking of the possible outcomes, he became inconsolable. All of that faded away when he was with Richie. He let himself live for the moment, soaking up all the carefree habits that everyone else took for granted. Beverly exhaled deeply. She had no idea had to fix what was wrong with two of her closest friends, and it bothered her to no end. She rose out of bed and bent down to look into the container she had under her bed. She pulled open the drawer and caught sight of the large mason jar filled with light green buds mixed with small hints of browns and purple hues. She looked past it to see a bottle of scotch that was half full and a carton of cigarettes. Richie's favorite too, Marlboro Reds. Beverly's lips formed a thick line. Just sitting there doing nothing made her angsty. The fear of the unknown bothered her to no end. She needed answers, and she wanted them now. Right now. She ran out of her room and put on her black raincoat, sliding it over her red long sleeve shirt. She zipped it up with ease and grabbed her polka dotted umbrella from its place by the front door. "I have to go. I'll be Richie's house!"

As she got outside, she opened the device to shield her from the rain pouring out of the sky. This kind of weather usually made her feel uplifted and free because the water washed away the old and made way for the new, rejuvenating the earth. However, today the rain felt unforgiving and relentless. The wind blew garbage out of the dumpsters and the leafs off of the trees, leaving Derry a desolate trash-filled wasteland. Thunder roared, and then his brother flashed white in the sky, making any stray animals run and hide for cover. In a hurry to get out of the terrible weather, Beverly ran straight to Richie's house. Conveniently, it was only located a block away from her own. Once she reached the door, she twisted the knob and opened it. Richie's parents were still away at this usual time, and Richie wouldn't be able to hear the knock over his blaring music. She ran up the stairs and saw that Richie's door was not closed, so she walked right in. Richie was sprawled out on his small twin size bed, wearing only his jeans that hung low on his hips. He stared at her in utter shock before looking towards the bathroom door. "What the fuck are you doing here, Bev? I am kinda in the middle of something." Beverly's eyes were laced with curiosity, so she stomped over to the bathroom and opened the door. She was taken aback by the sight of Samantha pulling her pants back over her hips in frustration. Samantha let out a surprised yelp and attempted to shut the door, but Beverly placed her boot in the crack of the door stopping her in her tracks. Then she grabbed onto the handle and pulled the door the opposite direction so that Samantha couldn’t crush her foot. "Really Richie!?!" Beverly shouted, "We are all worried about you, so I come over to see that you're still with your supposed ex-girlfriend!? The one who talked shit about us all? You might as well have slept with Gretta Keene!" Samantha opened the door causing Beverly to lose her balance. Their faces were unbearably close now as Samantha laughed, "Oh, you came over for a turn, whore? Sorry to tell you, but he is damaged goods. You might as well crawl back to your fat ass boyfriend." Beverly slammed a fist into Samantha's face with enough force to push her back into the bathroom. The other girl lunged for Beverly, reaching out to pull her hair. But she never reached her. Richie's face flushed red with embarrassment and fury. He shot out of bed and stepped in front of Beverly. He grabbed onto Samantha's wrist when she tried to hit Beverly again. He had never wanted to slap a woman before, but he was so close he could almost feel it. "Fuck you! Get out of my house, now. Before I let her show you the way out." Beverly's body shook from the violent fit of rage. Samantha glared at him before pulling her arm out of his grip. She was so unfazed by Richie's threat that she stopped to look at the watch on her wrist then smirked. "It's my time to leave anyway. Richie, I hope you can at least get it up for Beverly. She looks like she is going through dick withdraws." Beverly was confused, but she turned her head towards Richie. The look of humiliation took over his features, and he averted his eyes to the floor in shame. Beverly growled as she slung her body over Richie's and slugged Samantha once more on the back of the head, "Leave before I break your fucking face, bitch!" The other girl clutched her head in pain and ran out of the room, not stopping until she was safely outside. "That's right," Beverly screamed, "You better fucking run! Run for your damn life!" Richie ran a hand through his hair and sat next to the window seal. He looked over to Beverly, who was staring daggers at him. "Before you start, can I please have a cigarette?" The brokenness in his voice caught Beverly off guard. "You have to tell me everything that's going on. Do that, and they are all yours." Richie only nodded, and she threw her pack of cigarettes at him. With a trembling hand, Richie grabbed one and lighted it immediately. He drew it up to his lips and took a long drag; the nicotine went through his lungs calming him down instantly. "You heard what was wrong, Bev. She was so repulsive I couldn't get my dick up. Are you happy now?" "I could care less about that, Richie! I need to know why you wouldn't eat lunch with us today and what about what happened between you and Eddie? There is something wrong with both of you! How can you expect us to help you if you don't let us?" Richie flinched when the other boy's name was mentioned, and Beverly's words penetrated his heart like knives. 'How do you expect us to help you if you don't let us?' It was too similar to what he had told Eddie, but now the shoe was on the other foot. Fuck. Eddie was right. He was a hypocrite. Most of all, he was an absolute fool. He placed his hand over his eyes as memories of the day before came rushing back to him. The fear he felt looking for the younger male and the relief when he found him. The way they danced around the room causing Eddie to smile through teary eyes. The kiss that not only set his body on fire but also ignited the fiery passion he had for Eddie all along. Richie fucked it all up like he did everything else. To add insult to injury, he ran off before he could be held accountable for his actions. Even going as far to ensure Eddie he would meet him today, but then went and tried to fuck Samantha instead. Karma was a bitch though that always managed to get her revenge. All he could think about when he was with her was Eddie’s crying face and the hurt in his voice. It was a boner killer. Beverly stared at Richie. Tears unwillingly filled his eyes as the thoughts of Eddie overpowered him. His mouth opened and he tried to speak, but nothing but whines of agony came out. Before he could say anything, Beverly grabbed his cigarette and threw it out the window. With that hazard out of the way, she enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. Richie bit down into his bottom lip in an attempt to keep his emotions at bay; he didn't want to break down. Not now. "Richie, you're strong all the time. Please, let someone else be strong for you for a change. You can tell me anything. I'll never judge you." Hearing the amount of love and truthfulness in Beverly's voice obliterated all of his walls, and he shattered. He wept into the crook of Beverly's neck uncontrollably. He cried for all the mistakes he had made in the past couple of days and even sobbed for things that had happened past that. He hadn't been this emotional in a long time, but his body welcomed the change as more tears fell onto his freckled cheeks. He had needed this. For a long time, he had needed to release his pent-up frustration. Beverly was surprised by the intensity of Richie's cries. The amount of his sorrow caused tears to well up in her eyes too. She reached out to caress his hair, knowing all too well that it always seemed to soothe him. She could feel him calm down as he placed his arms around her waist, giving her a gentle hug. "I ruined everything, Bev. I single-handedly fucked up the friendship between Eddie and I.” Richie confessed as he wiped the evidence of him crying off of his face. “Richie, that’s ridiculous. Eddie absolutely adores you. Nothing you could do would ever change that.” The males brow tightened in apparent frustration. The one time he was releasing his emotions, and Beverly told him they weren’t valid. “Oh really? So his feelings haven’t changed even though I kissed him?” Beverly couldn’t help the smile spread onto her face, and Richie could only raise his eyebrow in question. “How is that not good news? You finally made a move on him, Richie!” “What the fuck are you talking about? Did Samantha rearrange your brain or something? He isn’t gay, and neither am I! So there weren't any moves made. I was stupid. I reached out and kissed him without thinking.” The smile on Beverly’s face was erased and her brows furrowed in confusion. “You really are blind, aren’t you Tozier?” Richie almost took offense to that before the redhead spoke again, “Were you looking at his eyes or his smile when you kissed him?” Richie blushed wildly as his heart began pumping rapidly in his chest. He knew the answer to that question, but why the fuck did he? “Both.” He answered shakily. “Since it was so ‘stupid’ it apparently meant nothing, right?” “No! I would never say that.” Richie retorted quickly. Too quickly. Beverly grinned at him like a Cheshire cat and pressed her luck even further, “How would you feel if Eddie suddenly started dating someone? Perhaps a handsome man?” Richie had never thought about Eddie finding someone. Not because Eddie wasn’t attractive or desirable, because fuck, he was so damn beautiful. He just hadn’t thought about it because Eddie’s uncomfortable around most people. But, he forced himself to entertain Beverly’s idea. Based off of his own experience in dating, Richie knew that there were many things you had to do. The most basic one was kissing. He had kissed Eddie only yesterday and could still feel sparks on his lips. Just the thought of someone else causing Eddie to feel that way made his stomach boil like a cauldron filled with jealousy and anger. The next thing most couples did was make out, which he had done many times with women. They would moan and writhe in a haze of pleasure beneath him as his hands roamed their bodies and touched their-. His body stiffened. Fuck, he couldn’t even think of someone else touching Eddie that way. How the hell could anyone be deserving enough for Eddie to lower his guard like that? It felt fucking dirty and wrong just thinking about it. But his thoughts continued, now going into overdrive. He had thought about Eddie’s body before. The way his shorts fit hugged his body, more specifically, his hips and his ass. He remembered the muscles in Eddie’s back that became prominent when he would take off his shirt after track practice. Reality hit him like a ton of bricks.

What if other people looked at Eddie the way I do? Richie was snapped out of his thoughts when a pair of hands waved in front of him. “Woah! You’re practically steaming with envy. Please, don’t have a brain aneurysm over there Rich!” “So what if I am a little envious. That doesn’t change anything.” Beverly’s tone became more serious, “What if he dated someone and they broke his heart, how would you feel then?” Richie didn’t have to think before saying, “I would beat the shit out of anyone who dared to look at him the wrong way. So, I'd probably go to jail for attempted murder if someone hurt Eddie like that. Now, what exactly is your point?” He shook his hands up in the air, “Yeah, I care about Eddie but, that doesn’t mean we would ever be together. I’m not even gay.” “You don’t have to be gay to be in love with Eddie, Richie. There is such a thing as being open to love, despite a person's gender. You could be a bi-sexual.” Beverly relayed back to the curly-headed man. Fuck. That is so true. “Okay, Molly Ringwald . Who died and made you Cupid?” He tried to change the subject. Beverly flipped him off, “I’ve always been an expert on love. I’d like to know what you have done with the real Richie? The Richie I know wouldn’t be ashamed to admit his real feelings. Especially for Eddie Kaspbrak.” Richie scowled at her and started smoking another cigarette. “Fine. I like Eddie. More than a friend . Now, are you happy?” “Yes!” Beverly exclaimed as she pulled Richie in for another embrace. “You have to tell him how you feel!” Richie forgot to breathe while smoking and he choked, “ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?” “Fine. Let's make a deal. We won’t tell him until you are ready.” “ We ?” Richie interjected. “There is no we, toots. You have a man. I am the one who needs to worry about this. You hear?” “Well, now that I know I might accidentally let something slip.” “You wouldn’t dare!” Richie reached over and tickled her hip, causing an eruption of laughter from her. She smacked his hand away as she ran out of his room and down the stairs. “I just might!” She reached the front door, but Richie was on her in an instant. Playfully, he picked her up and began shaking her. After a couple of minutes, he stopped and held her steady so she wouldn’t fall from the dizziness. “If you come with me to Eddie’s house and at least rekindle the friendship, I will take your secret to my deathbed. Scouts honor !” Richie smirked at her as he grabbed his key from the table. “First off, you were never a fucking scout! So there is absolutely no honor in what you just said. Fuck, this was your plan all along, huh?” He watched as she shook her head in agreeance, “You’re a fucking sneak, Beverly.” "Shut up and drive to your boyfriend's house," Beverly teased.

#angst #reddie #stenbrough #benverly #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #bill denbrough #stan uris #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #drama #adult themes #it 2017 #stephen king #Fanfiction

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chuckaliciousbby-blog · 6 years

Text

disconnected || chapter four

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

9:57

Richie was busy in the basement of his house, cleaning a clump of dried jam off one of the walls, trying not to scrape any paint off. Because if you’ve ever left a clump of jam to dry in the sun, like Richie has, you’d know one very important fact: you regret it when the time comes to clean it off. Because not only is it rock hard, it’s also food. So it carries the implication that it’s rotten. That there’s some kind of mold on it. That its bad somehow. And though this didn’t particularly get him all grossed out and reluctant to touch it (like it would have Eddie), the idea still made him uncomfortable. Any sane person would have been uncomfortable with year old jam, wouldn’t they?

But he just kept thinking that he was doing this for Eddie. For the smile he would have when he saw what Richie did for him. Because Eddie was so cute when he smiled.

Cute, cute, cute.

Rich didn’t know that he was being cursed by the same asthmatic Kaspbrak that he was thinking about, at that moment. That Eddie was riding down the street on his bike, Bill in the lead with Silver. He was swearing that he loathed Richie, because he wasn’t there when he needed him. Last week when he couldn’t get a milk carton open for his cereal, and Richie offered to help - Eddie didn’t really need him. And when he stepped on someone's discarded gum walking to the barrens, and Richie scrapped it off with a stick - Eddie didn’t really need him. But now? When he was actually needed - on the rare occasion Richie's trashmouth was an asset he was sure would have saved him, instead of making things worse - he was absent. And for no good reason at all - none that Eddie knew.

Although he knew he didn’t really hate Richie, a part of him - an irrational one - really was angry. He felt betrayed. There were two schools of thought going on in his mind. One, that was telling him Richie couldn’t possibly have known. How could he have heard him? - did he expect him to be telepathic? It was unreasonable to be mad. But another nagging voice in his head - one that sounded like Richie - was attempting to convince him that he should have been there anyway.

10:20

Bill had that stubborn, determined look on his face. Stan had been concerned when he saw it. He had only seen it once before, and that was back in 1958 - but then it was deserved. Back then, Stan was in it with the rest of them, and they all followed Bill because he was right to be mad. Because this creature was evil.

Henry wasn’t evil, though.

Henry was insane.

So he pedaled Silver like a professional, graceful with his broad shoulders, and knuckles white and iridescent as white swan ballet shoes, as they gripped the handlebars. And Silver wound through the streets.

Picture: slow shutter speed, Bill stood on the pedals, leaned forward - timid focus - blur - he ducks under a tree branch that hangs low over the darkened street - everything a royal blue - deep gem tones - just Bill and his bike and the two friends that swore to follow him off whatever bridge he jumped off of.

He skid to a stop, Silver making an ugly sharp sound on the gravel - but it wasn’t ugly to Bill - Bill thought it was exhilarating. Ben almost crashed right into him, he wasn’t a huge fan of bikes. He had borrowed the one Bill used before he found Silver. He looked just as clumsy when he got off, as he did when he was riding it. Eddie got off a little more gracefully. He slowed to a stop, a safe distance away from the other two, a disdainful hesitance in each of his actions. And he walked it over to the two of the paused friends, laid it down to rest on its side.

“How d’you know where he is, Bill?” Eddie said, and he really wanted it to sound challenging, but it just came off curious.

“My dad hear-heard his d-dad,” Bill had started, hiding his bike as best as he could, begining to walk, Ben and Eddie trailing behind him - both a wreck with nerves, in totally different ways. “At the gr-gr-grocery store,” he stepped over a fallen log, “and th-then, i heard my d-dad tell-tell-telling my mom about how they ou-ought to st-st-” his eyes squeezed shut, he reassessed his vocabulary, “quit going to the d-dump. He said he’d be here to-ton-tonight.”

The walk onto the premises of the dump, and into its mess, might really have been the most nerve wracking part of the night. Because around every corner, they expected to see Henry and wicked smile of his. Not to mention how many opportunities there were to trip over a piece of trash. And Eddie was clutching his aspirator so desperately that he was afraid it could slip from his hands from how sweaty they had gotten. No one had thought to bring a flashlight because they were so preoccupied with the gun. Ben almost fell into a pile of mud, just a few moments into the walk, and if he hadn’t grabbed onto a pipe jutting out of a pile of garbage in time - and even then if he hadn’t regained his footing - he would have been covered in dirt in a matter of seconds.

Eddie pulled the trigger of his aspirator, restraining himself saw no benefit. Ben jumped a little, Bill just kept walking. Bill was too determined and focused to jump at a sound so familiar. He was more alert than he normally was - the two boys following him could sense it, although they weren't acutely aware of it.

Bill stopped and Ben stopped and Eddie walked right into Ben. There was a noise. Sounded, to only one of them at first, like a lighter clicking on and off, the click and the humid, sharp sounding whoosh.

The other two members of the party recognized it, lagging only a second behind Bill. If he looked harder, around an old, rusted garage door opener, and an oily bike chain draped over it, he could see the dull light of the flame, flickering on and off. Bill stood with a very still ear to the air, listening. Hand out beside him, as if telling them not to take another step. Ben imitated curiously, listening closely with a similar stance. Eddie, with his arms crossed, stood behind both of them, listening silently despite himself. And then they all heard a chuckle, and some left over dry leaves crunch under someone's boot - they all froze. It was somehow unbelievable that they should get any more still, but they managed to turn into absolute statues. The sound quelled. Bill remembered, suddenly, that they were not here to hide. They hadn’t been found by Henry this time, they had been looking for him. The roles seemed reversed, and that concept, for a reason he didn’t care to contemplate, shook him a little. And there was a feeling he failed to describe, but could be accurately categorized as repulsion.

So he took a step, and didn’t bother to hide the noise it made. Little stones made soft but obvious noises as they dug into the sole of his shoe, a tin can scraped against the tough fabric on its side, he was almost sure he stepped on a bug, or something, because he felt a squish. Ben sucked in his breath, and Eddie had the quick thought that Bill was going to get them killed. Bill had a death wish and had looped them into some round about suicide pact that Eddie hadn’t been aware of until now.

“Bill.” Eddie whispered with enough intensity that he wished he could take it back. Because the step - a kind of obvious movement, was, at the very least anonymous. But the whisper - letting his voice he heard. That opened up the possibility of being identified.

The lighter stopped making its click, and the humid, sharp sounding whoosh. There was just the sound of moving. Just on the other side of a mock-wall of decaying materials. They were so close. And Eddie was sure he couldn’t do any more damage, and he could feel his lungs giving him the warning that they would stop cooperating if he didn’t bring that aspirator to his lips again. So he cussed, and he pulled the trigger, and Ben tensed a little. But what other choice did he have, but to be patient, and wait for the inevitable tragedy.

“Kaspbrak?” Eddie wished that was Bill’s voice. But there was no doubt in his mind that was Henry. It was Henry’s amused ‘oh this is not your lucky day’ voice - he knew it well.

Richie, this is all your fault.

Bill took a step back, as Henry advanced, slipping around the pile into the makeshift ‘hall’. He was beginning to regret this whole thing, but he wouldn't let himself feel the full effects of that reluctance to continue. He reminded himself of how Stan looked, cowering on the deck, in that impromptu stage lighting, his dad on the phone. He thought of the pained look on his face when the doctors in the ambulance turned him over. He remembered how just over a month ago, Mike had tried to convince all the losers he was fine, to avoid going to the hospital for that injured hand. He remembered last summer when they threw Richie into traffic. That was all he needed to regain the conviction he started with.

“So, mushmouth here to join us?” Henry asked, and one, rather small looking ‘friend’ (for lack of a better word) walked out from behind him. Although, they quickly realized he was only small when compared to the over-sized villain that was Henry Bowers. “Oh shit, you’ve brought, Tits along with you to…” Henry gestured, as if waiting for someone to fill in the blank. Like, ‘what is it that you’re here for? Or did you just come for another beating?’

Eddie was more and more convinced that Bill was out to get killed tonight.

“Oh sih-sit on it, H-Henry.” he spit at him, stared, he was more threatening than he normally was. Ben thought, that if Bill told him to give him all his lunch money right then, he’d do it out of intimidation. But then, that wasn’t saying much, because he was happy to share, more often than not. Point is though, Bill looked strong and untouchable at that moment, and maybe a little mean. Not to say Ben was scared of him, but that, if it came down to it, he wouldn’t cross him in a mood like this.

Henry raised an eyebrow, “Remember when i broke your nose? Well you ain't gonna get away this time. Kay, Denbrough? I’m gonna break more than your nose.” he turned to his friend, back to Bill, “but it sure seems like you’re fucking asking for it - you’n your friends.” And Henry advanced, cracked his knuckles - something he started when he turned 13. He would sit in the very back of the class, and crack his knuckles real loud, to let whoever was his victim of the day know that he was in for it the second the school bell rang. Remind him that he could run, and he could hide, but Henry would always get him.

Ben noticed, briefly, without really thinking it over, more just sensing the presence of a fact, that no matter how mean Bill looked. He would never have the same look as Henry does.

“N-not anymore, Heh-Henry.” Bill’s voice was lower, it seemed to roll out in a pure, careful anger, “You b-buh-buh-better fucking think about what you do neh-neh-next” his face tensed up, eyebrows knitted on his forehead, “bec-because you’re not guh-going to have us to buh-b-beat up anymore. I’ve h-h-had enough. I’m tired.”

Henry recognized the click that came next. Like punctuation.

It wasn’t the click of his lighter. Or of the Uris backdoor unlocking. Or even the sharp clicking-snapping sound of his knuckles in a silent classroom.

It was a gun’s safety being removed.

Eddie took a second longer to place it. He hadn’t even realized that Bill had taken it out of the bag, he wasn't sure when he had a chance to do so, but what he did know was that sound could be nothing else. And then he watched Bill raise it, aim it at Henry. He looked fearless, invincible.

Henry stopped, but fear failed to reach his expression, and even less his eyes. So, Eddie’s fear came true, the worst possible outcome came into reality and it felt like a slap in the face. No, incorrect. False. It felt like a punch in the gut.

I told you so, Bill. I knew it.

Henry’s eye’s lit up with anger. Henry looked like he was about to pull out his own arsenal, and Eddie looked at Ben to blame him, but the only thing he could force himself to emote was a were-in-the-same-boat, fearful kind of camaraderie.

Richie, we could have avoided this if you were there. Why couldn’t you have just been there? Now I’m going to die and you’ll just have to live with the fact that it’s your fault because you couldn’t show up to tell one stupid joke and make all of this go away I hate you Richie I hate you and your stupid voices and that stupid nickname. I’m going to die and i hope you find that just chuckalicious.

Eddie could barely see Bill in the dull light of the dump, shrouded in shadow, but he could see in just enough detail, that he watched Bills finger move onto the trigger. Pointed right at Henry.

“You’re going to regret that, you little shit.” Henry spat, and it seemed to come out of him like a deep animal growl. Eddie moved towards Bill, which seemed to catch his attention.

“Hey, Eds. You’re friends gonna be a fucking murderer, huh?”

Eddie’s expression got even more grim and uneasy. But then a flicker of anger and agitation bloomed in his eyes like a flower bed of red lycoris flowers. He hated it when Richie called him Eds, but Richie was the only one who was allowed to. There was something audacious about Henry saying it, that seemed to eliminate that fear that he felt.

“Don’t you DARE call me Eds, you Certified Asshole” Eddie yelled, and he almost dropped his aspirator in his outburst. Ben grabbed his arm, because Henry looked angry. Henry looked like a wasp that was ready to send you to the hospital with stings and wounds that you’ll remember for the rest of your life. You could see him dreaming about it. But Eddie’s expression did not mollify, although he said nothing more.

Did you fucking hear that Richie? He called me Eds.

Henry took a step forward, the trio didn’t move - not a single flinch. And Eddies aspirator stayed in his hand, but he didn’t even contemplate using it. But the thought of the trigger reminded him that this whole situation and his sanity relied on the fact that he trusted Big Bill to know if the gun is loaded or not.

“Duh-duh-don’t move, He-Hen-Henry.” Bill commanded, and he sounded more adult than any 16 year old had any right to.

Henry took another angry step, real quick, with purpose, and with that devastating anger that was always so intimidating. There were moments when Henry Bowers could look almost normal. But there were more frequent times where you could see the insanity though his skin like he was transparent. It oozed out of him. He was a terrifying mass of a creature. And maybe it was that exact, nightmarish insanity that made Bill pull the trigger. But it could also have been the adrenaline and panic that goes through you when something inhuman and uncooperative is coming towards you steadily. Showing no signs of stopping - unless, of course, if you stop it yourself.

Richie? Where are you?

a/n: shortening the time between updates. also, someone asked me to do a tag list so: @darklovies

#reddie #richie and eddie #it #IT2017 #disconnected #richie tozier #eddie kasprak #bill denbrough #it fanfic #it fanfiction

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writing-with-morgan · 6 years

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Fiction Friday!

Welcome back to Fiction Friday! This one is a bit long, so I included a cut. This one is one of my favorites that I wrote.

Want to join?

Share an excerpt form your latest work in progress by using the #writing-with-morgan hashtag or submit to @writing-with-morgan

Enjoy!

I zipped my coat and jerked on its hood. Skittishness racked through me in a bone-shattering shiver. I stashed my hands in my pockets to stop the shaking. I hated the very essence of the dark- the stillness, the ear droning silence, and the feeling of being observed at every moment. The last part was true at least. Shadows do have eyes. The time for the Shadows to come alive, making such noise only a few could hear, but all could feel.

The tingle radiating through my body was another tick on the metaphorical bedpost of cases. It never gets easier. Trust me.

I walked silently down the street, away from the heartbeat of the gyrating club. I curled around the building and set down the alleyway, observing the flittering in the corners of my eye. I tried to pass the time with a memory to still the prickles in my skin. Wasn’t that what normal people do in a situation like this? Of course, I keep forgetting I am not normal. I don’t have memories of before I started working with cases. My memories were stolen from me. Figuratively. Maybe. Literally. Most likely. The memories I do have, I don’t want to relive.

Sewage spewed onto the cracked pavement and gathered in puddles. Stale water dripped down from the rusted gutters of the brick stoned buildings. The smell of garbage and urine wafted from and around the trashcans. It perfumed the air. I passed on, barely leaving a trace. My tennis shoes were splattered in mud and questionable substances as I plunged through a hidden puddle. The cuffs of my jeans once clean were now fraying and grimy. Glowing eyes ran before me, whether it was a large rat or a stray cat, it was hard to tell. I passed no one as I walked. That was a good sign. No unwanted casualties.

I kept my head at an angle, the hood of my coat drawn to avoid any light that may have rolled from the first floors of buildings. But no one had lights on at two in the morning. Why would someone be awake at this hour? Besides accidents and murders, nothing interesting happens this late. Never in the history of time has something worthwhile happened. Trust me.

In the dark, no one saw me cringing in disgust at the increasing levels of garbage. I had no choice in my cases. It wasn’t like I hand picked them. They fell into my lap, and I did what I had to do. I had to take all assignments that were passed to me. If only I could get into the upper level. They didn’t have to trudge through the filth. You had to be made for upper level. Figuratively. Maybe. Literally. Most likely. Besides I wasn’t cut out for it. I was molded from the dirt and grime I plunged through. No one moves up. No one leaves. Everybody can be replaced. I guess you can call that their motto. If we needed a motto.

On I walked, moving from one alley to the next, keeping clear away from the dark abyss of the crawling Shadow. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that the shadows were moving. I knew better. They were swarming, growing, foaming, leading me to where I needed to be.

Without slowing, I crossed onto a deserted street lit solely by two street lamps. They emitted a dirty yellow tint to the overwhelming blackness. The lamp behind me flickered, dimmed, and brightened.

Time was enclosing around me. Literally, no figurativeness about it.

Abruptly, I stopped walking and glanced around. Seeing it clear, I went to a building and crouched low behind a bent trashcan to prevent from being seen. I know I wouldn’t be seen, but it always feel like the right thing to do. To be out of the way. To clean up.I had only a few minutes to wait. If I was lucky. I’m not a lucky guy. Not while alive and certainly not while dead.

Did I forget to mention I am dead? Dead. That’s me. Hello. I’m dead. I forget that sometimes. Not the dying part, just constantly being dead. Never not being dead. I don’t really feel dead, but I’m dead for sure. You never forget yourself dying. You may forget a lot of things in your life- your dog’s name, the neighbor’s house, the lock combination to your new bike, your own face- but you will never forget the time that you died. Trust me.

I glanced at my watch in the dim reflection of light. Another flicker. The flinching second hand beat a melancholy tick. Slower and slower, it rounded as if time was growing still to match the air. In a sense, that is true. Another flicker. The second hand came to a halt.

It was time.

Sharp heels clicked into the fray. They cut through the stiff air like a chainsaw, contrasting frightfully with the stillness.

The Shadow twitched, awakening from formation. Perching to swarm.

A figure of a woman walked heavily. Her stride was powerful, full of purpose, yet clumsy. Her composure was dissipating. Her frame slouched between each step. Her feet occasionally scraped against the gritty pavement. Her makeup clung to her face, highly venting her tired expression. She held her purse by the strap. Her eyes looked as though she had been crying.

She didn’t see me as she passed me, but she felt me. I couldn’t see it, but the hairs at the back of her neck stood up. I knew. She clutched a can of pepper spray she pulled from her bag tighter in her hand. Nothing was going to help her now. Well, not a can of pepper spray at least. That was no defense against me and especially not for the Shadows.

She ran. The Shadows chased. I followed. I needed to get to her before they did.

With scared eyes looking over her shoulder, she saw me. When you are about to die, you see the Soul that handles your case, your death. Your Soul Worker, per say. Wave. Say hello. Our face would be the last you see. Just. Please don’t beg.

A car came out of nowhere, like the common phrasing went. In all actuality, it was rushing from a club several blocks away where I started my journey. In the car was a driver, drunk and distracted. He jerked at the wheel, compensating for the lack of control he had over the machine. He was looking for his phone that had fell off the console when he turned the corner. He hit her hard with his left headlight and drove away. The next day the driver will wake up in a puddle of his own vomit with face smashed in the passenger seat. His car would be wedged smartly in his garage door. I will have to collect him next week. He knew. He cleaned the blood from the car in the weak morning light, praying no one would see. It drilled in him until he exploded. Figuratively.

There are very few opportunities where you could prevent a death from happening. This was not one of them. I couldn’t help her. I can’t take her before it is time to spare her pain because that is not how it works. Life is a pain right up until the last moment. If you were lucky, you get to go to the place where there is no pain. Like I said, I was not a lucky guy.

I crouched by her, skidding on my knees on the pavement. The Shadows slid away, unable to procure the kill. The streetlights remained steady.

I bent down over her slumped form and carefully plucked out her soul. She was easy to extract. I cradled the whips of silver in my arms and watched until the color drained from her body. The can of pepper-spray rolled away from her outstretched hand. I braced myself for her last thought. I have experienced many people’s last moments with them. I relive their last flicker of life as though it were my own. Not all of them were pleasant. Trust me.

Her last thoughts were of her two-year old child tucked in her bed. The child’s face flashed brightly in my mind, searing next to the many faces and names of the people I don’t want to extract, but probably will in time. Jeanie will wake up in the morning with no mother and would be sent to live with her grandparents across the country.

I held tightly to the Soul that was slowly forming to look like the abandoned body. I walked away with her Soul in my arms. She did not want to stand by herself, so I carried her. She was not one of the ones who want to face Death like a friend. Little did she know that Death is a collective term. It is a job title at a big store. I was one of the greeters.

I brought her to the nearest Gate and coaxed her to the light. Crossing over isn’t easy. She would have to leave everything behind her. She was not ready to go. The Light devoured her before she could prepare herself. She didn’t have a choice. None of us have a choice. Not even those who end it themselves.

I dragged myself away, my job done. This job was never easy. I can only hope that one day I too would join them in the light. But, like I said, no one leaves. At least, not by choice. Trust me.

#fiction friday #writing-with-morgan #fiction #writing #My writing

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ezatluba · 5 years

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Thousands Of Dog Owners Swear By These 37 Genius Products

The world is full of cool dog toys and handy canine accessories — but some of them are simply better than others.

1 A Simple Tool That Picks Up Shedding Fur And Releases With A Button

FURminator, Deshedding Tool For Dogs

If your pooch loves to leave clumps of hair throughout the house, this amazing deshedding tool will change your life. With a firm, stainless steel edge, the efficient tool is able to penetrate the topcoat and gently but thoroughly remove loose hair. It's easy to use — just comb through the hair to grab your dog's fur and then press the easy FURejector button to release it.

2 A Fantastically Bright LED Collar That Will Keep Your Dog Safe In The Dark

Illumiseen LED Dog Collar

You'll never lose your pup in the dark again with this awesome LED dog collar that Amazon customers are obsessed with. The light-up collar has over 3,400 glowingreviews (see what I did there?), with thousands of customers praising its ability to shine brightly and keep your dog safe from vehicles and other hazards. The fully adjustable collar can be worn as one solid light, or it can be set to blinking mode with two speed options. The LEDs are rechargeable via USB so you don't have to worry about them burning out, and each charge lasts about five hours. It comes in five glowing color options including neon green, orange, pink, blue, and red.

3 A Cooling Mesh Dog Bed That's Elevated Off The Ground So They Don't Get Hot

Elevated Cooling Dog Bed

Constructed with breathable mesh fabric and set 7 inches off the ground, this elevated dog bed will keep your pup cool all night long. The cot-style bed allows air to circulate underneath so that dogs who tend to overheat can sleep comfortably. It's lightweight yet ultra-sturdy and is capable of holding up to 150 pounds. Plus, it's super compact, so you can bring it with you when you camp, travel, or visit friends. The bed comes in small, medium, and large sizes, so it's compatible with every breed.

4 A Powerful Odor Spray That Makes The Carpet Smell Fresh After Accidents

Rocco & Roxie Supply Co, Stain And Odor Eliminator

There are tons of stain and odor removers out there, but few blast away puppy smells as instantly and thoroughly as this Rocco & Roxie pet spray. The powerful, fast-acting stain remover is formulated especially for the less glamorous parts of puppy ownership ( aka pee on the carpet and vomit on the floor). It features enzymatic bacteria that's activated upon contact with odors, feeding on ammonia crystals and organic matter to completely remove the smell. It's chlorine-free and safe for both kids and other pets, too.

5 The Little Shoes That Protect Paws From Gravel, Snow, And More

My Busy Dog, Water Resistant Shoes

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6 A Soothing Pressure Coat That Helps Anxious Dogs Feel More Peaceful

Thundershirt, Classic Dog Anxiety Jacket

If your little guy gets nervous easily, this doggy anxiety jacket will feel like a soothing friend. The patented design works to calm canine anxiety by applying gentle, constant pressure throughout the day. The result is a feeling of safety and security whether they're stressed out due to fireworks, thunder, separation, travel, vet visits, or other anxiety-inducing scenarios. It's a great way to soothe your pup's worries without the use of sedatives or other drugs.

7 The Feeder That's Perfect For The Dog Who Eats A Little Too Fast

Outward Hound, Slow Feed Dog Bowl

Does your dog wolf the entire bowl of food down within seconds of it being placed on the ground? If so, this slow feed dog bowl will help your overzealous pooch take it easy around mealtime and learn to eat slowly, improving digestion and reducing bloating in the process. In addition to offering portion control, it provides a little puzzle to solve, keeping his or her brain engaged while they chow down.

8 A Rugged Seat Cover That Will Save Your Car Interior From Destruction

BarksBar, Original Pet Seat Cover

Imagine, a car that wasn't covered in dog hair and muddy paw prints?This clever pet seat cover is made from a durable waterproof material that protects your vehicle from fur and shedding, mud, dirt, scratches, and chewing. You can use it as a regular bench-style seat cover or convert it into a hammock that protects both sides of the seats and gives Fido a cradled area to sit in. It has built-in Velcro openings for seat belts and is fully machine-washable.

9 A Warm, Heated Stuffed Animal That Has A Real Heartbeat

Smart Pet Love, Snuggle Puppy Behavioral Aid Toy

Dogs are pack animals who need to cuddle up with others to feel safe. Although this little creature looks like a basic stuffed animal, it's actually a behavioral aid toydesigned to reduce anxiety and offer your puppy a warm body to sleep next to. Meant to imitate the nurturing feel of a mama dog, they toy comes with a heart-shaped ticker that heats up and emits a pulsating beat that mimics a beating heart. The comforting toy is perfect for thunderstorms, fireworks, and other occasions where your puppy gets scared.

10 A Protective Balm That Keeps Their Paws From Drying And Cracking

Mushers, Musher's Secret Paw Protection Wax

Made with soothing vitamin E, this paw wax cream protects their feet from cuts and scrapes without any scent or odor. The wax-based balm goes on the pads of their paws like a cream and dries instantly, creating a protective layer to shield them from the elements. It also helps prevent abrasions, burning, drying, and cracking. "Living in the Northeast, I deal with snow, salt, ice, and blistering pavement in the summers, and this product is an absolute miracle," said one happy Amazon customer. "I purchased three more containers today for my dog to give out as Christmas presents to her friends. It is that good."

11 An Ultra-Convenient Collapsible Dog Bowl For Life On-The-Go

COMSUN, Collapsible Dog Bowl

Constructed with tough silicone, this collapsible dog bowl is the best thing ever for folks on the go. Fill the ample bowl with 12 ounces of water or a 1.5 cups of food, then press it together when you're done for easy storage. It comes with a clip-on carabiner you can use to attach it to a backpack while hiking, or to put on a crate when you travel.

12 A Fake Patch Of Grass To Help With Potty Training

PAW, Artificial Grass Bathroom Mat

Whether you've got a puppy who's still potty training or you live in an apartment where it's tough to get outside quickly to train your dog, this artificial grass matprovides a place for your pooch to do their business inside — without giving them the idea that they're allowed to pee indoors. The three-layer pad features an odor-resistant, anti-microbial mat on top with a plastic insert that traps liquid and drains it into a collection tray on the bottom. To clean it the mat, simply rinse it with soapy water.

13 A Natural Shampoo That Smells Great And Won't Irritate Skin

Earthbath, All Natural Pet Shampoo

Made with delicious natural scents such as eucalyptus and peppermint, oatmeal and aloe, mango, rosemary, tea tree, and sweet orange oil, this doggie shampoo cleans their fur while leaving them smelling fresh and aromatic. It is formulated with 100 percent biodegradable products and detangles in addition to cleansing. On top of that, it is suitable for sensitive skin. "I absolutely love this dog shampoo!" said one Amazon customer. "It makes all my dogs so soft and shiny."

14 A Set Of Rubber Fetch Balls That Whistle When You Throw Them

Chuckit! Whistler Balls

The only thing dogs find more outrageously fun than chasing balls is chasing balls that make wild noises. This whistling dog ball is just the ticket, offering a chewy rubber fetch toy that whistles in flight, stimulating their hunting instinct and keeping their mind engaged. The balls, which come in a pack of two, are aerodynamic and easy to grip. They are available in small, medium, and large sizes, and one reviewer writes: "Chuck-it makes the best balls for retrievers. They are very durable. Far better than tennis balls. Good value as these last for years not days or weeks. The whistle balls are great for dogs who retrieve by sight AND sound. The whistling gives them better feedback in case they miss seeing the ball launch."

15 A Set Of Fantastically Compact Poop Bags That Fit In Your Pocket

Pogi's Pet Supplies, Pogi's Poop Bags

If you're sick of searching the house for plastic grocery bags every time you go on a walk, you'll love these eco-friendly poop bags from Pogi's. The baggies come in easy, compact rolls you can fit in your pocket so you don't have to worry about looking like a jerk to the neighbors when your dog goes a second time — you'll always have a back-up. The eco-friendly bags are powder-scented and ultra-thick, so they won't leak even if you have a large dog. Plus, they're big enough to reverse over your hand for easy scooping.

16 An Easy Walk Harness That Keeps Your Dog Protected

Petsafe, Easy Walk Harness

If your dog tends to choke himself with excitement every time a squirrel darts by or a new dog walks up, you need this easy walk harness. The fully adjustable strap system steers your dog to your side to help reduce leash pulling — while also preventing them from gagging on their collar when they lunge. It comes in eight custom sizes and seven colors including green, black, purple, brown, raspberry, red, and blue.

17 A No-Foam Toothpaste That Fights Bad Breath And Controls Tartar

CET Enzymatic Toothpaste

Formulated with an extra-strong, enzymatic solution, this high-quality doggie toothpaste prevents tartar build-up and reduces bad breath. The toothpaste is designed for pups who form plaque rapidly, showcasing an enzyme system that is more abrasive than your typical toothpaste. It won't foam up, is safe for them to swallow, and comes in five flavors including beef, malt, poultry, seafood, and vanilla-mint.

18 A Pack Of Squeaky Toys That Don't Have Stuffing To Shred

ZippyPaws, Skinny Peltz No Stiffing Squeaky Toy

All dog owners know that stuffing is the bane of their existence. This stuffing-free squeaky toy, however, lets your dog chew to their heart's content without covering the living room in shreds of white puffs. The value pack comes with three toys for a low price — including a fox, raccoon, and squirrel. "Bought these for my Pomeranian and she loves them!" said one Amazon user. "I wanted something that squeaked, was light weight, and came in a package of more than one.. and this was EXACTLY what I was looking for!"

19 A Set Of Training Bells That Your Dog Can Ring To Go Outside

BLUETREE Dog Doorbells Potty Training Bells

These dog training bells provide an innovative way to communicate with your dog during potty training — it teaches them to ring the bell when they're ready to go. That means you'll never have to worry about them scratching at the door, whimpering, or barking when they need to relieve themselves. The adjustable design makes it easy to change the height to cater to your dog's specific size, and the soft jingle is pleasant and easy on your ears.

20 An Interactive Toy That Dispenses Treats While It Rolls Around

Our Pets, IQ Treat Ball Interactive Toy

Keep your dog sharp and on its toes — literally — with this interactive treat ball that dispenses goodies as it moves across your floor. The toy features adjustable difficulty levels so you can start easy and work your way up to harder challenges as your dog gets better at the game. The device, which twists apart easily to fill or wash, can be used for exercise, brain training, or to encourage slow feeding for pups who eat too fast.

21 A Cool Fountain That Provides Filtered Water For Your Dog All Day Long

PetSafe, Drinkwell Platinum Pet Fountain

Rather than refilling your dog's bowl several times a day and letting the water get warm and dirty, this clever pet fountain filters their water, keeps it cold, and ensures that it flows all day long. With a 168-ounce capacity, the fountain will fit dogs of all sizes — so it's an awesome choice whether you have a Pomeranian or a Great Dane. Lots of dogs are drawn to free-falling water streams, and the replaceable carbon filter makes the water taste better, so it's likely the apparatus will make your pup drink more frequently.

22 A Toy With Little Sliders You Can Hide Treats In To Stimulate Their Brain

Spot Interactive Seek-A-Treat Shuffle Bone Toy

Featuring ten compartments and six sliding disks, this interactive dog treat toy gives dogs a way to fight off boredom while increasing their mental aptitude. Use the wooden, bone-shaped puzzle board to hide treats and watch them try to get them out. On top of strengthening cognitive abilities, the toy increases their positive behavioral habits.

23 A Mat To Put Under Their Food Dishes To Keep The Floors Clean

PetFusion, Waterproof Pet Mat

If the area around your dog's dishes is always covered stray dog food and splashes of water, this waterproof pet mat will help you keep the floors clean. Constructed with durable, top-quality silicone material, the mat is flexible and able to sustain paw scratches and other doggie-induced wear and tear. It has a raised lip around the edge so water won't spill over, and textured bumps to prevent the bowls from sliding around.

24 A Food Storage Container That Looks Good And Keeps The Odor In

Gamma2 Vittles Vault Plus Food Storage Container

This food storage container helps keep dog food fresh with an airtight seal, and it's definitely more aesthetically pleasing than an overflowing paper bag. It prevents odors around the food bag because the pet food smell stays contained in the vault, the container comes in three different sizes (and the largest can hold 35 pounds of kibble) with a free measuring cup, and one reviewer writes: "My dog is happier with consistently fresh food, and I'm happy with the perfectly sized and easy-to-use design. No more fumbling with dog food bags. This has been a great investment."

25 A Plush Toy You Can Hide Squeaky Squirrels In To Keep Your Dog Entertained

Outward Hound, Hide-A-Squirrel Puzzle Plush Toy

This cool interactive dog toy features five squeaky squirrels and a plush, tree-shaped container. The idea is that you hide the squirrels inside the trees (aka "Hide and Squeak") and let your dog dig them out with its snout. The toy helps dogs stay engaged, fends off boredom, and strengthens their mental capacities. You can also use the toy, which is available in different sizes for varying breeds, to play fetch and add some bonding time.

26 A Hyper-Absorbent Towel To Dry Them Off After Baths

Bone Dry, Microfiber Pet Bath Towel

When you dry your pooch off after a bath or a wet trip to the park, you don't want to use your nice terry cloth towels. This fantastic microfiber pet towel is made especially for canines with ultra-soft, hyper-absorbent material that lifts moisture from their fur and soaks it up quickly. As a bonus, the cozy towel makes a great blanket for kennels and dog beds, too.

27 A Super Effective Detangling Brush To Remove Mats Of Clumped Fur

GoPets, Dematting Comb

Brushing your dog can be a Herculean task when their fur is covered in mats and little doggie knots. Fortunately, this brilliantly designed de-matting comb offers a way to get a brush through their hair, detangling and un-matting as you go. The double-sided comb offers a low-density rake on one side for de-matting extra stubborn tangles, while the other side is higher density for de-shedding and detangling.

28 A Genius Paw Cleaner That Removes Caked Mud From Their Fee

Dexas Mudbuster Portable Dog Paw Cleaner

You can wipe your dog's paws over and over, but when they've got mud between their footpads and claws, they're going to track it all over the floor. This completely genius dog paw cleaner is built with squishy silicone bristles in the middle that get in between the pads on their feet, claws, and nails. Just add water to the device, stick your dog's paw inside, and gently twist back and forth — voilá, instantly clean paws.

29 An 'Adidog' Track Suit To Make Your Pup Look Adorably Cool While Staying Warm

Adidog Pet Clothes

Not only will this athleisure-style doggie track suit keep your pup warm, it will also make them look cool AF. With an easy-snap button closure design, the suit is a breeze to put on and take off, while the soft cotton feels cozy against their fur. The jumper is available in twelve different sizes and nine colors including black, blue, green, gray, orange, pink, red, yellow, and white.

30 A Pair Of Grooming Gloves That Massage Your Dog While You Work

DELOMO, Pet Grooming Gloves

Constructed with 255 silicone grooming tips, these grooming gloves give your dog a massage while you sweep their fur for loose hair and dander. The sticky material grabs shedding hairs, picking up dirt and clumps of fur as you swipe through. You can also use the gloves at bath time, soaping up the soft rubber to scrub your pooch clean in a gentle manner.

31 An Extra Thick Toy That's Nearly Impossible To Chew Through

KONG Extreme Dog Toy

The KONG is a classic interactive dog toy that stimulates the mind while it entertains. You can stuff it with peanut butter or shove it full of dog treats to give them extra inspiration, and when you're not using it for mental stimulation, it can also be used to play fetch. The thick, durable rubber is almost impossible to chew through, making this one of the longest lasting dog toys out there.

32 A Pack Of Chew Sticks That Act Like Mini Toothbrushes

Greenies, Original Dog Dental Chews

If your dog's breath scares away the neighbors, these doggie dental chews are just the antidote. Made with vitamins and minerals that promote optimal canine oral health, the ingredients are highly soluble so you dog won't have a hard time digesting them. The bumpy texture cleans their teeth and gums while they chew, and it's an easy way to get many of the same benefits of brushing when you don't have time to sit down and stick a toothbrush in their mouth.

33 A Handy Bag To Store Their Treats And Accessories In

Paw Lifestyles Dog Treat Training Pouch

Store your dog's beefy kibbles and treats in this handy training pouch that you can sling around your shoulder when you head for the park. It features an easy-to-use drawstring top and a main compartment that can hold dog toys in addition to treats. It has a built-in poop bag holder and two rings to hang training clickers, and if you don't want to wear it over your shoulder, it also has a removable waistband and strong metal belt clip.

34 A Black Light That Can Detect Where Your Dog Peed While You Were Away

ESCO LITE, UV Flashlight Black Light Urine Detector

Next time your dog gives you that guilty look but you can't figure out why, use this clever black light to scour the house. The special UV rays are able to detect urine so you can determine where the smell is coming from and get it up as quickly as possible. "This thing is so good," said one Amazon user. "It shows every single stain over the years where our dog peed when he was a puppy and still having accidents on the carpet."

35 A Super Effective Flea And Tick Collar That Lasts Eight Months

Bayer Animal Health, Seresto Flea And Tick Collar

Instead of treating your dog every month, use this flea and tick collar to keep the bugs away. The grease-free, odorless collar kills fleas and ticks upon contact, allowing you to save all the money you spend every month on other flea treatments. The collar, which features a low concentration, continuous release design, lasts for eight months.

36 A Convenient Pooper Scooper That Picks Up Waste Without You Bending Over

Dogit Jawz Waste Scoop

Never again bend over to scoop up dog poop with a thin little baggy — this brilliant waste scooper lets you do everything while standing upright, and you'll avoid sticking your hands in the mess. The spring-loaded scooper is easy to use and collects the waste in one simple motion. Store it in your backyard to keep the grass clean, or even take it with you on walks to ditch the scoop bags.

37 This Unique Shower Attachment For An Easy Bath

Waterpik, Pet Wand Pro Shower Attachment

Whether your dog loves baths or goes running every time he hears the faucet turn, this shower attachment will make the experience more pleasant for everyone. With a curved shape, the device delivers a powerful spray that you can use like a water comb, running it up and down the length of their body. It feels like a gentle massage and is immensely helpful for getting soap out of thick fur. The attachment has an 8-foot flexible hose for extended reach and can also be attached to your garden hose for outdoor baths.

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sending-the-message · 7 years

Text

The Quiet Ones by StevenDJackson

For once I’m glad Amy took her laptop to the campsite. Well, not glad obviously. It’s hard to be glad of anything when I know my life can now be measured in minutes, but thanks to her need to be connected to everything all the time I can tell our story in the time I have left.

I’m currently lying on my back in a hotel room which I am struggling to accept will be my tomb. The bed is comfortable, the lights are bright, the TV on the wall is huge. It all seems so friendly and welcoming. My heart is fluttering like I’ve been running, but it’s just fear. Adrenaline. It’s like my heart’s trying to act as alive as it possibly can, to squeeze a lifetime of beating into these last frenzied moments. It’s finding this as difficult to accept as I am, the fact that I will die here before the dawn slips over the horizon, when there’s really no reason why we couldn’t have carried on for another sixty or seventy years.

But there is a reason. And it’s a reason I need to tell you about, whilst I try not to listen to the desperate thumping in my chest, each rhythmic beat counting down to a grand finale I’ve come to almost accept is now inevitable. Almost. The occasional stab of hysterical fear still grips me, but there’s nothing I can do. Not against them.

They call them the Quiet Ones. The old man in the village does anyway, down by the campsite. It’s the name the old folks gave to the shapes in the dark, the things that crouch in the shadow just beyond the edge of sight. They are the ones that creep unseen through the underbrush at night and dance beneath the moon away from the eyes of humans.

And so they would have remained, living alongside us in their dark, hidden world, if we had not broken the ancient laws –

But I get ahead of myself.

It was a sunny morning as we drove up. I can hardly believe this was only two days ago; my friends were still alive then. I mustn’t think about how many times we could have turned back, how many words I could have used to change the plan.

I knew there was something wrong with that place. Of course there were no signs, no warnings of any physical kind to prevent us driving off the road three miles before the campsite and crashing off through the undergrowth. I almost feel that we were being drawn there, and perhaps we were. In fact, I’m sure we were.

The car was being scraped and brushed mercilessly by the overhanging trees, and more than once I asked Amy if she was sure this was even a trail let alone a road. She insisted she’d seen a sign of some kind along the road, though she couldn’t describe it. It was like a mixture of confusion and pride alone was keeping her foot pressed on the accelerator. We bumped and jolted along, the two boys grinning widely in the back, until at last the mud-track opened up into a clearing.

The grassy area was maybe fifty feet across, surrounded on all sides by thick forest. Old trees stretched up around us, their old and gnarled branches reaching like twisted fingers into the darkening sky. As I got out of the car, I realised how deathly quiet it was. I could hear nothing of the road we’d left behind, though it couldn’t be more than a mile or two behind us, and no birds fluttered above. It was like the world was holding its breath, or perhaps that the world itself was just…different…here.

I wanted to leave more or less the moment I stepped out of that car and looked up at those horrible trees. I’d looked up the campsite we were actually aiming for and it had showers, a club house, a coffee and bacon sandwich van in the mornings. This was a clearing in a forest, and I did not want to be there.

The boys, of course, loved it. We’d barely stopped before they started pulling the bags out and setting up the camp, almost falling over themselves to be the first to get their tent up. Amy and I watched them with that resigned, world-weary expression female friends of overgrown man-children tend to adopt when they get together and act – well, like overgrown man-children. I remember watching them yelling and shoving one another, enjoying themselves, and not quite being able to shake that horrible sense of foreboding. But nothing I said was taken seriously, and eventually I gave up, resigned to the fact that we were spending the weekend in that dark, quiet place literally in the middle of nowhere.

That night was when it started. We had a fire going, and Tom had his feet too close to it. He didn’t think anything of it, the night was cold and we were all trying to get as close to the flames as possible. But when he stood up to get a beer, he realised his left hiking boot had almost fallen apart. The heat had melted whatever rubbery glue held it together, and the sole was no longer attached. After a lot of laughter, swearing and general hilarity he threw the ruined boot off into the darkness. We didn’t know it at the time, but that was what had sealed our fate.

The next morning Tom was gone. We weren’t worried at first, thinking he’d just gotten up early and wandered off, but then Simon noticed the boot. Melted and ruined. The one Tom had thrown into the darkness. It was sitting, innocently enough, in the tent on his sleeping bag. But there was no sign of Tom.

We all assumed as the morning wore on that Tom had walked into town to buy a new pair of boots. But when he didn’t return by mid-afternoon, what had been a tense atmosphere soon became one of fear. Of course, there was no cell phone reception in that cursed clearing, so we were left with no choice but to search the woods and shout for him. We found nothing. No tracks, no Tom. As the light faded we tried searching with flashlights, but when Amy wandered away and fell into thick stinking mud, losing her flashlight in the process, we abandoned the search. Amy was near hysterical by this point, and I wasn’t far off myself. It was only because I had Simon with me that I was able to cope, and together we took Amy back and got her into our tent. The next morning, we decided, we’d leave in the car and ask around the town, nearly three miles away. Surely that was the only place Tom could have gone.

When I woke the next day Amy was gone. Just gone. On her sleeping bag, as if it had every right to be there, was her flashlight. The one she’d lost in the forest. It was caked in mud, as though it had been pulled from the quagmire by someone and returned to her. I was terrified by this point, but Simon insisted that she must have resumed the search for Tom as soon as the sun rose, and had no doubt walked into town after finding nothing in the woods. She’d known that was our plan anyway, so it made some (though not perfect) sense. We were desperate at this point, on the verge of panic, so I suppose it’s understandable that we weren’t thinking straight. We took Amy’s keys and left for the town; Simon’s face was stony and grim the whole way there. We barely said a word.

No one in town would speak to us about our friends. The villagers simply stared at us, made suggestions about other campsites, acted like they knew nothing. But in their eyes I could see something more. An understanding. A fear. Like they knew perfectly well what was happening but wouldn’t say. Simon said I was being paranoid, and had to drag me out of the police station by force when I lost my self-control and started screaming at the officer behind the desk. He’d barely even blinked, just given me a bland assurance that they’d look into it, without even a hint that he meant it.

The sun was setting by the time we walked with resignation into the little shop by the edge of the village. An old man, careworn and moth-eaten, was about to close up when we arrived. As we silently grabbed sandwiches neither of us wanted, he asked if we were the ones he’d heard were asking about their missing friends. By then I’d given up hope, so those words were like a fire inside me and I almost threw myself over the counter. He smiled sadly, told us there was no chance of finding our friends. He explained to me what I now know; what I didn’t believe at the time.

The Quiet Ones have always stalked us, flitting between the shadows and murky unseen depths just beyond our world. Sometimes, in ancient forgotten places, their world and ours overlap. Out in the dark, untouched wilds, the forests and the mountains, some places remain where the barrier between them and us wears perilously thin. If we keep to our side, they must keep to theirs. But for the unwary fool who strays one dark night too far, beyond the wispy veil of our territory and into the Quiet, only horror awaits. Because the age-old pacts, struck millennia ago by our terrified ancestors, still hold even now. Those who violate their world belong to them; just as it has always been. Tom’s shoe, Amy’s torch. Both carelessly thrown into the darkness, both returned in place of their owners. A terrible balance restored; a terrible bargain fulfilled.

Simon flew into a rage before the old man finished speaking, shouting and threatening like a lunatic. He knocked a stack of papers off the counter as he lunged for the old man, but just then the police officer from the station arrived and curtly demanded that we leave.

I expected Simon to drive us away, to leave the hideous place far behind. But he was incensed, in an impotent fury that stole his reason. I pleaded with him to drive on, but he was just as angry with me for believing the old man’s lies. To prove a point he drove us back to the clearing, and leaping from the car ran into the woods, screaming and daring whatever demons lurked there to show themselves. I was too terrified not to follow, tears streaming down my face, my cries rebounding from the half-seen boughs of ancient trees. Simon was far ahead of me, his hysterical screams echoing into the woods, before they rose in a final horrified shriek and were abruptly cut off. I turned to run and fell in a blind panic. I flailed and thrashed, imagining spiny hands clutching at me, dragging me towards a gloomy otherworld from which I’d never escape. But I got up, and I ran. Somehow I made it back to the clearing, slammed the car into gear and drove away, still crying, heading back to civilisation without looking back.

Shortly after that I arrived here. A cheap hotel by the roadside. Warm and inviting. Thinking I was safe. But then I realised my watch was missing. My left arm was caked in mud, with scratches from where I’d fallen amongst the brambles and roots. I must have left it there. Or somewhere between there and here. The same place the boot had been thrown. The same place the flashlight had been lost. The place where Simon had crossed over and…not returned.

So they’ll be coming for me. I don’t have long. Just enough to warn you.

Remember me, and beware the Quiet Ones.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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