#Cryptid sightings chapter 11 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gasolineghuleh · 1 year

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The Green Fairy, Ch. 2

After meeting the vampire Mary Goore in his home bar after a night gone awry, you find yourself agreeing to be his girlfriend. C’mon, let’s meet the band. Miss the first chapter? Want one of your own?

A commission for @leshyyx! I love you, you fuckin cryptid.

cw: choking, gagging, alcohol mention, blood drinking, vampirism

Waking up in the morning is a little bit less of a chore now that you’re waking up to the slightly snoring and drooling form of Mary Goore. It’s only been a few days and you’re definitely still entrenched in the honeymoon phase of your relationship… or rather, one night stand. He still hasn’t left from that first hook up after your meeting, instead opting to spend his weekend with you in the relative quietness of your corner apartment. It’s been nice to have someone around in the romantic sense, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you were ready for him to leave. You’ve fallen hard, and you’re certain that he has too.

“Mmrmmph.” The cold lump beside you grumbles its awakening beneath the blankets, one scrawny pale arm stretching out and swatting at the air until you reach out to take it. “Mmm.” He laces his fingers through yours quickly and pulls, rolling until he’s managed to pull you against his back.

“Good morning to you too,” you laugh, dropping his hand in lieu of snaking yourself along his curves, pressing tightly against him. Your first instinct is to try to warm him up even though you know that won’t happen— his stilled heart lacks the power to warm his skin, and no amount of body heat from you will transfer.

“Time s’it?” he asks before clearing his throat and stretching, pressing his bare shoulders against your breasts and grumbling in appreciation. His cold skin works quickly on your nipples and they’re already budding by the time he rolls back again, purposefully this time.

“Mm. Your phone says 11.” Mary grumbles again, turning back over and pressing his cheek into the pillow. You follow him, laying your chin on his bony shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist. The two of you fit together well, the softer parts of your body complementing his tall and lean figure— spooning seems to come naturally.

“I don’t gotta be at the bar until 2 today. Should be a quiet night for a Tuesday, with the storm still hovering.” Mary levies himself up onto his elbow briefly, craning his neck and peering out the window by your bed. The curtains block the way and he grumbles, stretching out a pale leg and parting them with a foot. When he catches sight of the continuing deluge outside he flops back down, jostling until the two of you are comfortable again.

“At least you don’t have to worry about the sun.” The bed rocks slightly with his laughs, his head shaking. “It would be a shame if we had to stay in bed all day anyway.”

“Oh, for sure.” Mary stretches and you watch as he rolls himself over to face you, greeting you with a garish smile and a flick of his black hair. His eyes are bright even in undeath, and you watch as they move from your eyes to your lips to your breasts. You hardly ever sleep in a pajama top, and last night was no exception. Nipples already pebbled and sensitive, you lean towards him slightly. “But I’m sure we could find somethin’ to do, babe.”

“Mm. I’ve been meaning to clean out my closet recently. How do you feel about charity work, dead boy?” Another surprised snort of laughter shakes the bed slightly as Mary squints up at you, his smile wide.

“I’d rather do something else.” His lips curl up into another smile as he leans closer, pressing his lips gently against your neck. By reflex your hand moves up his back to twine into his hair, holding him against you as your eyes close, silently willing him lower.

“And what’s that?” Your own voice is already breathy with arousal, and still husky with sleep. His lips graze your skin again, ice cold and supple, and a shiver runs up your spine to tingle along your scalp.

“Guess,” he breathes against you. A quick movement from his free hand and the comforter is pulled back, exposing your bare thigh to the cold air of your apartment bedroom. Goose flesh pops up quickly and you shudder, pressing yourself towards Mary in search of the warmth that will never come. Instead you’re met with the cold touch of his tongue along the column of your throat before he presses another kiss there.

“Touch me,” you practically whimper, trying to urge his head towards your chest where your nipples ache with the need to be touched. The facade of trying to find something to do is completely lost to you now; even more so when his lips close around the bud of your nipple and his tongue sweeps over it in broad motions. You urge him on vocally, slowly rolling onto your back as he presses you downward, his hand on your shoulder gently pushing.

Another movement of the blanket and he’s leaning over you from the side, his mouth fixated on your breasts while his hand starts to move down your side. A roll of your hips, a breathy sigh, a gasp and a silently grasping hand all serve to guide him where you want him and you can barely hold back your moan when his long and slim finger slides inside of you. He crooks it expertly in the same moment that his teeth catch gently on your nipple and you buck against him, his name caught in your sleep-dried throat.

“Mm, I couldn’t hear you,” Mary says as he pulls off of your nipple with a pop of his lips. “Who’s got you?” he asks, cocky and sure-fire smile planted firmly across his lips. There’s a bit of his corpse paint left over around his eyes, leaving them bright and intense as his pupils blow black with lust. “Tell me who’s gotcha, baby.”

“Mary,” you croon, rolling your hips against his hand in a desire for more contact. You’re slick around his fingers and the friction feels incredible but you still want more. “Mary, you got me.”

“And what am I gonna do to you, baby doll?” Mary moves up your body slightly, kissing along the side of your neck as his finger pumps in and out of you steadily, the lewd noises only growing louder alongside your arousal. When he bites you gently you yelp, flinching underneath him and tensing for a piercing feeling that never comes.

“You’re gonna fuck me?” The hopeful tone in your voice is only softened by the needy whine in the back of your throat when he pauses his motion. He waits until you groan in desperation before moving again, slipping a second finger inside of you and curling them. You move your arm above your head, gripping the wood of your headboard as a counter-weight to your hips, allowing yourself to push back onto it and roll against Mary easier.

“Sneaky little bitch,” Mary purrs against your breast. There’s a smile behind his words and the barb doesn’t land— instead, he pulls another moan from you when his tongue sweeps across your nipple again. His cock is jutting out from his hips already, hard and leaking against your thigh as he starts to breathe heavier. “You cock hungry already? Can’t live without me?”

“If I died, would it matter?” you quip back, winking at him when he whips his head up to look at you in surprise. It melts away to a laugh quickly enough and he pulls his hand away from your cunt, bringing it to his mouth and sucking your juices off of his fingers, still smiling around them. “Am I wrong?”

“Not with this body, you’re not.” Mary finally swings himself over your body, one of his cold hands landing on top of yours on the headboard. His cock is almost as beautiful as he is— long and lithe, with a beautiful head that makes your jaw ache with the desire to feel it in your throat. Mary, however, has other plans at the moment.

Mary parts your legs further, situating himself between them and leaning over you, head tilted as he watches you become more and more desperate. His cock rests just against your cunt, sliding up and down across your entrance and clit with each carefully calculated movement of his hips. Once more his lips find your neck, his dangerous teeth hovering just above your pulse point and dragging along it, daring you to move.

You don’t.

“Good girl.” His praise sends a shudder of pleasure through your body, doubled even more so when his cock finally slides inside of you. Mary watches your face with his head still tilted, amusement dragging the corners of his lips up towards his crinkled eyes. “Such a good girl when you take me.” He finally bottoms out and leans over you, planting both of his hands beside your head.

“Mary- fuck, if you don’t-” You stop and take a deep breath, moaning deeply when Mary presses his hips against yours, grinding his cock inside of you. A silent cocked eyebrow urges you to continue speaking. “If you don’t hurry up and fucking take me already, we’re going to be late to- Fuck!” Mary snaps his hips forward, driving his cock home into you in a sharp thrust. He grins when you look up at him, mouth open in shock.

“You’re right.” Mary shrugs as best as he can before he readjusts his hands and knees slightly, giving himself a better position before he finally, blissfully, starts to move. It’s weird, for the first few minutes, every time he starts to fuck you— his cock is just as cold as the rest of his body but eventually your own body heat equals it out, and you stop noticing. The first few moments always make you aware of just how much of Mary is inside of you though, and it’s quickly become your favourite part.

Mary moves between your legs with a fluidity that only comes from practice and an acute awareness of his own body, his thrusts never staggering or falling in pace. The sound of his hips snapping against your own is almost drowned out by the sounds of your dual breaths and moans. Your eyes meet in a moment that feels unguarded and Mary dips down quickly, pressing his lips to yours and squeezing his eyes shut— it feels almost like being laid bare for someone else and you’re grateful for the moment to hide, returning his kiss eagerly.

You sweep your tongue along his lower lip and he moans against you, parting his lips enough for you to deepen the kiss. Tightening your grip on the headboard above you, you thrust your hips back into his, quickening the pace until you feel the heat of your climax approaching again. Mary shifts his weight above you slightly, bringing one hand down between you and pinching your nipple perfectly. You gasp against him, mouth dropping open as you break the kiss again, your arousal ratcheting up in waves like the clinking of a roller coaster ascending the first hill. When his teeth find your pulse point again and his other hand wraps around your throat you cum, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, cum for me baby, fuck. Feels so fucking good on my dick,” he says, moving quicker as he chases his own orgasm, tumbling into the velvetine pleasure after you. “You like it like this, don’t you? Fuckin love flirting with death, baby, God damn.” Mary’s fingers tighten on your throat as he cums inside of you, cock pulsing in time with the beat of his heart. You gasp around his grip, shaking underneath him as your body ekes out another demiorgasm. Finally he stops, dropping his hand from your throat and breathing heavily, leaning over you with his hands on either side of your head.

“Jesus Christ.” Your voice shakes slightly and you take a deep breath in, closing your eyes and laying your head back onto the pillow as you allow your hand to drop from the headboard finally, pins and needles flowing back down your arm. Mary huffs out a snort of laughter before groaning, rolling back onto his legs and turning to sit on the edge of the bed. He claps a hand down onto your thigh and shakes you until you open your eyes, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“That couldn't have taken more than three minutes, right?” Mary cracks a joke before he pushes himself upright, standing with a groan and peeking at the clock again where it hovers lightly on the screen of your phone. Mary turns back to you with a bright look on his face, excitement clear in his eyes. “Would you meet my friends, babe? My band! Aw, they’d love you!”

“Your friends?” You push yourself up onto your elbows, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t that a girlfriend thing?”

“Yeah, aren’t I a boyfriend thing?” Mary gestures down to himself, foot planted to the side in a confident pose. “I’m dick ass naked in your fuckin’ bedroom, shriveled nuts ‘n’ all, and I ain’t lookin’ to leave. Clearly I’m a boyfriend thing.” He looks at you sternly but the character drops almost instantly as he laughs at himself, broad and toothy smile cracking over his face.

“Then I guess I’ll be your girlfriend thing.” Mary steps forward and pats your thighs with his palm before he swoops in and kisses your forehead. “I only have to invite you in once, right? That’ll get fuckin’ old.” You push him away with a grin and stand up as well, suppressing a yawn with the back of your hand.

“Just once. I can come and go as I please.” Mary slips past you towards the bathroom door, sneaking a grab of your ass as he does so. “Leave the window open and I’ll drive ya batty though.” You snort out a huff of a laugh that turns into a giggle, the sudden ridiculousness of the situation finally settling in— it’s been a nice honeymoon weekend, but now it’s weird again.

“So, uh- Not to be a downer but- you’re really real, right?” you ask lamely, flushing in embarrassment at your sudden inability to form a coherent sentence. Mary whips his head around, facial expression a mixture between confusion and amusement. He wrestles with the stuck wooden door of your little bathroom while you finally blurt out the question. “You’re not joking with me?”

“No, but I sometimes wish I was. It hasn’t exactly been an easy life to live, but we make do with what we got, I guess. Suppose I’m just glad to be alive… or, unalive? Undead?” He shrugs and pops the door open, flicking on the bathroom light and fan. “Was it me wanting to take a shower that prompted your burning question?” You grumble and follow after him, plucking up clothes from the floor as you go.

“No, I’m just still not convinced that I’m not dreaming.” Mary laughs a little and turns on the water of the shower, waiting until it runs for a few seconds before turning to you.

“I can’t feel the temperature of the water so- it’s whatever you want, babe.” You take it in stride (go, you!) and move forward, putting your hand into the stream and adjusting the knobs a little until the water runs hot. “Didn’t even notice I couldn’t until a few years afterwards. Stayed the night with a girl and she told me that the water was ice cold.” You step into the shower and instantly douse your face in the hot water before stepping back and giving Mary room to join you.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Mary pulls you gently against him as you rest your elbows on his shoulders, holding him loosely in the circle of your arms. Your eyes meet and for a moment he seems like a normal man, until the coldness of his shoulders on your arms becomes more apparent under the hot water, and his smile betrays his sharper teeth.

“Can I wash your hair?” he asks suddenly, his eyes snapping to the top of your head. “I’ve- I’ve just always wanted to.” Mary smiles sheepishly as your eyes meet again and it takes everything not to melt into him, to tell him yes over and over and ask him to stay forever.

“Absolutely,” you groan instead, turning around in his arms and allowing him to dip you under the hot stream of the water. Time seems to float by as the two of you shower together, sharing small stories of life and joking back and forth. The water turns cold sooner than you’d like, and you manage to get toweled off, dressed and ready in no time— albeit with some prompting needed towards Mary, who has a tendency to slack off and watch you instead. By the time you pick up your phone again it’s already half past noon and the two of you are ready to head out for the day.

“I forgot you lived in a complex,” Mary jokes as he steps out into the hallway for the first time since you brought him home. “Feels like I’m not allowed out of the house anymore. Indoor boyfriend only.” He flashes a bright and toothy smile at you and takes your hand as soon as you finish locking the door behind you.

“Oh yes, I must remember to socialize you more.” He barks a laugh at your well timed joke and falls into step beside you, his other hand shoved deep into the pocket of his leather coat. He jingles slightly as he walks beside you and you finally raise an eyebrow at him in question when you reach the elevator, calling it with a slim finger and turning to him. “You’re louder than the other night.”

“Do you want me to turn it on?”

“Turn what how, now?” Mary holds up a finger and steps back, hopping back and forth on his toes with his arms wide in a “see?” gesture. There’s no sound except for your own surprised noise, eyebrows shooting into your hair line. “Some sort of vampire bullshit. Comes in handy when I accidentally break shit at work and don’t want to be on the hook for it.”

“I’m sure that’s definitely all you’ve ever used it for.” The elevator dings and the two of you step in, thumbing the button for the bottom floor.

“Me? A good Catholic boy?” There’s a joking tone in his voice but the words still prompt your question.

“Were you? Religious, I mean. Before.” Your cheeks are tinged slightly pink in embarrassment as you fumble your way through the awkward question for the second time this morning. Mary smiles at your fidgeting and waits until the doors ding open before he answers, moving ahead of you to open the main lobby door.

“Yeah. Catholic.” A grimace of sympathy flashes across your face but you manage to wipe it away quickly. He lets the door swing shut after you and quickly falls back into step beside you, rambling on about his previous religious affiliations as you walk towards the bar.

Mary unlocks it with a pair of keys jangling inside of the pocket of his leather jacket and the door opens with a creak and the dingle of the bell. The smell makes your stomach turn with nerves and slight arousal— the last time you were here, you had been chased out of the bar by a pack of vampires, rabid and drooling for you… and you also picked up a certain dead boyfriend. The bar looks the same, slightly disheveled and messy with scuffed floors, an old bartop and antique decor along the walls.

“You can just sit behind the bar if you wanna,” Mary calls over his shoulder, jerking a thumb towards the empty bar as he heads towards the bathroom. “I gotta take a piss and I’ll be back. Make yourself comfortable, babe.” You grumble slightly at the prospect of suddenly being alone in the bar, but you do what he suggested and slip under the bartop, emerging behind it.

There’s a stool along the far side of the wall behind the bar but you take a moment to look around before you move to sit on it. The shelves below the bar are full of differently shaped glass bottles, some of them more loved than the others. Another shelf holds upside down glasses and mugs with a small stack of shakers and other bartending tools. There’s a spot on the shelf where a glass would have sat and the cut in your palm throbs a little when you remember how it shattered in your palm. When you peek into the trash can you can see the remains of the glass that cut you and some stained rags underneath them. You grimace a little and turn back to the stool, hopping up onto it and situating your feet on the bottom rung.

As soon as your ass gets comfortable on top of the stool the door opens, bell jingling loudly against the top where it rings against the forest green wood. Three men enter, two of them laughing loudly while the third finishes a crude pantomime with his hands and hips. The man farthest from you calls out in an exaggerated wolf howl before dropping back into a laugh, wiping a tear from his cheek. You clear your throat gently and in an instant their eyes turn to you, suddenly cold and dangerous. Before anyone can speak there's a crash from the back, presumably Mary dropping something, draws the attention of all four of you, at least momentarily.

"Aye oy, we're not open yet!" he calls from the back after a slew of curse words, his colorful profanity flowing almost uninterrupted. One of the men snorts a laugh and goes to call back but falls quiet in lieu of one of the others waving him quiet. You cock an eyebrow and cross one leg over the other, getting comfortable and folding your arms in front of your chest.

“Who’s the chick?” he shouts, keeping his eyes on you warily as he cocks an ear toward the back, and Mary.

“Dumbass, it’s his girlfriend.” The man who had been shushed pushes past the others towards you, extending his hand. “I’m Jon. He called you his green fairy, so I’m assuming you took to the absinthe well?” You drop your arms and smile, reaching forward and taking his hand in yours, the cut in your palm only slightly stinging at the movement of your palm.

“How the fuck do you know?” Jon rolls his eyes and pulls his phone from his vest pocket, shoving the screen towards the others where there’s a photo of you and Mary together in bed, the caption “m lil grn fairy” pasted on the top. Both men look at you, quickly humbled, and offer their hands as well. “Guts. Sorry.”

“Call me Sy,” the last man says, his voice quieter than the other two. It’s the first time he’s spoken throughout the whole interaction aside from some laughter coming in, and his soft spokenness catches you by surprise. His hand, on the contrary, is a map of calluses and blisters.

“Let me guess, you’re the drummer.” Sy’s smile confirms it, and you turn to Guts and Jon in turn. “Guitar and bass?”

“Gee, how’d you know?” Jon asks, rolling his eyes towards Guts with an exasperated sigh and making his way towards a dimly lit booth in the corner of the bar. As he leaves he calls over his shoulder, “Bring some drinks when you come over, ay? I’m parched.”

“At 2 in the afternoon?” The judgment is past your lips before you can think better of it and you wince inwardly. Mary emerges from the backroom, rubbing a sore spot on the back of his head with a pack of ice, just in time to save you from the social faux pas.

“It’s not alcohol, babe.” He ducks under the bar and sidles over to you, pouting and gesturing at his head. “I’d ask for sympathy for the falling mop buckets, but I think meeting these fuck-o’s is almost worse. Can I assume the intro went well, or do I gotta bang some heads together?”

“It went fine, Goore, chill out.” Guts waves his hand dismissively, leaning heavily on the bar and looking you up and down. “She forgot to give us her name, though.”

“Oh, sorry! It’s Doe.” Sy smiles again and tips his head at you before turning around and joining Jon at the darkened booth. You watch him for a moment before looking back at Guts, who’s staring at Mary pointedly. “What isn’t alcohol?”

“Yeah Mary, what isn’t alcohol?” Guts echoes, his voice strained. That’s when it clicks for you, and the realization makes you sit up a little bit straighter on the stool.

“It’s blood,” you say, looking back and forth between the two men for confirmation.

“How do you- wait, is she-?” Guts’ nose twitches slightly and his eyes narrow. “She’s the one who’s scent we caught the other night. That was you?” he asks as he points towards the broken glass in the trash can. “Goore, did you hunt this girl after we gave up?”

“No, man. It wasn’t-”

“No.” You cut through their short argument with a sharp tone. “He made sure I got home safely, and then I invited him in. It was my choice.” There’s another tense moment while Guts assesses your words before he nods and takes a step back, hands up in surrender.

“Just making sure, man. Can never be too careful with humans.” You flush a little, the aftermath of the heated moment making you sink a little lower on the stool briefly. Guts nods again at Mary in a silent and respectful apology before he, too, moves over to the darkened booth in the quiet corner of the bar.

“That… was fucking sexy,” Mary says under his breath, sliding towards you smoothly along the bar until he’s just barely pressed against you. “Love it- I got a girl who can defend herself, especially against this pack.” You laugh a little and run your hand down his thigh under the bar, pointedly leaning forward and resting your other arm on the bartop.

“Is that the official name then? A pack?” you ask innocently, dragging your fingernails along his tight pants, purposely moving closer to his inner thigh. “Am I dating a member of the pack?” Mary suppresses a laugh and pushes his leg closer to you behind the bar,

“Sure are, baby.” When your fingers get close to the swelling bulge in his pants he groans softly, one hand gripping the bar top tightly. “Wanna see how well that silencer works and go in the back with me?” You squeeze his leg in agreement, motioning for him to go with a worried look towards his bandmates. “They won’t fuckin’ notice, trust me. We open in a minute and they’re gonna take care of the bar, whether they want to or not.”

Mary takes your hand in his, the cold feeling almost icy against your adrenaline heated skin. He tugs you through the door to the back of the bar and slams the employee door open in absolute silence, shutting it with his shoulders and pulling you close to him. Your lips find his with a sigh, teeth already dragging along his lower lip. With another huff of breath, Mary backs up towards the loan battered couch in the room, falling backward onto the beige cushions.

“God, you’re so fucking good to me,” he groans when you drop to your knees in front of him, hands skating up his thighs through his tight jeans. Mary’s long fingers maneuver through his belts and the zipper on his jeans, pulling his hardening cock free quickly.

“They can’t hear?” you puff, already out of breath with the sudden desire to taste his cock. Mary shakes his head and lifts his hips slightly, lolling his head back onto the couch. You wrap your fist around the base of him, his cold cock filling your hand almost perfectly. It’s skinny but long, and you keep your hand there even as you dip down, dragging your tongue along the bottom of his cock.

“Fuck, so hot-” His hips jerk slightly when your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, jaw dropped and breaths coming quickly. Mary squeezes his eyes shut when you finally take the head into your mouth, sinking down on him until he bumps the roof of your soft palate. “God, your tongue is so fucking /warm/, baby. Love feeling you on my cock.”

“Mm,” you hum before pulling up and popping your mouth off of his cock. “You taste so fucking good, Mare. Like a cock lollipop.” You twist your hand along his length while you laugh, looking up at him with amusement.

“Jesus Christ, Doe,” he sighs in exasperation, dragging his hands along his face and trying to push his hips towards you. You snicker to yourself one more time before you take his cock back into your throat, pushing down until your nose is close to the hairs at the base of his shaft. Mary’s hips jolt in surprise at the feeling and he drops a hand to the back of your head, quickly twisting his lithe fingers into your hair and holding you in place.

A string of profanity falls from his lips as he rocks his hips under your face, pushing his cock into your throat before pulling your head back. He maintains a steady rhythm as he brings his other hand to your jaw, his thumb digging into your cheek lightly to keep your mouth open for him. Mary’s eyes meet yours as they start to water and you start to gag softly. When you cup his balls in your hand gently and squeeze he grunts, gripping your hair tighter and rolling his hips faster.

“So fuckin-” Mary cuts himself off as he pulls your head back completely, long and thick strands of saliva connecting your plump and swollen lips to the head of his cock. You stick your tongue out obediently and close your eyes, waiting as you feel his tap the head of his cock against your tongue, his fist flying. “Such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?” As you nod he cums, thick ropes of it landing across your tongue with a single stray shot to your cheek bone.

Mary slumps forward with a groan, his forehead resting on the top of your head as he breathes deeply. You sneak a hand between the two of you and wipe his cum from your cheek, leaning down slightly to smear it on Mary’s socks, hidden above his pant leg. He grumbles in discontent but allows it, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you up and into his lap just as the door rattles with a loud knock.

“Hey, are you fuckin’ in there? We got people out here who want beer, Goore!” Jon calls from the other side of the wall. Mary fixes his pants quickly behind your thigh and pulls you closer, taking on an innocent air when the door swings open. “Cmon, man, we got customers. Didn’t think we would this early… or at all.”

“Who's the co-owner of the bar?” Mary pauses for a second with a leading tilt to his head. “It’s Sy. Go bother Sy. I’ll be out in less than ten, you can handle the interaction for a few minutes. Dust up on socializing once a century, Jon, it’ll do you some good. Get you some ass.” Mary’s hand claps loudly on your thigh and you jolt in surprise, barely managing to laugh in time before Jon disappears from the doorway.

“Century?” you pry, arching an eyebrow, still looking at the empty doorway.

“I’ll explain at some point. Or he will, I’m sure. We’ll settle for Jon being a nickname, for now.” Mary shrugs underneath you and leans back against the back of the couch with a yawn. “Will you hang tonight?” he asks, his eyes looking anywhere but at you.

“Got any absinthe?”

#lorraine writes #ghost #the band ghost #ghost bc #fic #fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost bc fanfiction #ghost bc fic #nf #hfoa #mary goore #goore #repugnant #mary goore fanfic #reader insert #female reader #reader x mary goore

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phantomcat94 · 4 months

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Excerpt from Deadmouth Quarry

Chapter 11

Evan was grinning madly, all braces and bright eyes. He even waved. “Hi!”

“Hello.” She glanced at Fred, who nodded encouragingly, and then held out her hand. “I’m Clara. Freddy’s my brother.”

“Evan!” The kid grabbed her hand and shook it way more enthusiastically than Fred had expected. Clara clearly felt the same, shooting him a mildly panicked look. “Do you like cryptid stuff?”

Oh, no, thought Fred.

Clara, on the other hand, lit up like a gas-soaked bonfire. “Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Do you want a Snickers?”

“Sure!”

Well. Great. Fred was standing halfway through the quad with two kids who were bonding over candy and urban legends.

“There was a sighting this weekend,” Evan said around his mouthful of chocolate bar. He’d barely swallowed when he continued, “Someone put a video on TikTok— it’s really dark and hard to see, but if you squint—”

Fred sighed, looking around at the other people milling about. This was certainly better than talking to some random girl whose name he’d never actually gotten, but he wasn’t sure it was worth missing the class he was supposed to be in.

“Freddy, look!”

Clara all but shoved a phone in his face, and— well. Fred had never been very good at denying her much of anything, so he looked— watched. Whatever.

And, yeah, Evan was right. The video was dark, horribly lit by a coppery orange streetlight—

Wait. That was the quad.

The video had been taken not ten feet from where they were standing just now.

Fred took the phone from Clara and squinted at it. The person filming was swearing and muttering, but there was a strange sort of undercurrent to the sound, like a buzzing noise, or— a hum? Maybe? And there, in the tree line… something was…

God, was that tree moving?

Wanna read more? Check out Deadmouth Quarry here or here!

#deadmouth quarry #my writing #writers of tumblr #cryptid stories #writing community #okay but seriously I almost went with the end of this chapter #but it didn't have a good hook to it #but the last few lines make me laugh so hard I almost piss myself every time I read them #which is hysterical especially since I wrote them #not me laughing at my own dumb jokes

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steamed-ham-moved · 7 months

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𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙆𝙎/𝙒𝙄𝙋 𝙐𝙋𝘿𝘼𝙏𝙀𝘿 11/29

➣ All stories are currently multi-chaptered or planned to be multi-chaptered. A bit of a slowburn if you will (because I have to get past like 3-4 chapters just to get to the part I wanted to write in the first place. Then end up losing motivation.) One-shots if any, will be labeled.

➣ For Negan fics, unless it’s by request, I do not write Y/N or ‘you’ fics. I have nothing against it and personally do enjoy reading some of these fics, however, I don't want there to be dissonance if Y/N does or says something that you, the reader, wouldn’t actually do/say. Instead, I use OC. You can always imagine yourself as OC though, it’s what I do sometimes.

➣ Make sure to let me know of typos or other mistakes in any fics.

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│★ = currently working on

│☆ = Paused

│ ❢ = Not started

╰┄┈┄──❍•

✺ 　 ·*

　 ˚ 　 ✦ * 　　

⋆ . . 　　 ✦ 　　　　　 ·. + 𝙉𝙀𝙂𝘼𝙉

* ⋆ 　　 ˚ 　　

　　　　　 ⋆ * . ⋆ ⊹

　 ⋆ *

❲☆❳ 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐀𝐠𝐞 ╰┈┈ 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐀𝐔 ┈┈┒

[EXC] Apart from the ceaseless dick talk; jokes, comments, and over detailed descriptions. She finds that Negan is actually good at being a teacher, even better than herself. There are some things that he’s able to do that she isn’t and he’s patient with her, encouraging, offers her his best advice to help her along, then praises her when she finally gets it right. She likes it, she likes it a lot, and strangely enough it’s the thing that truly makes her begin to enjoy being around him.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝐂𝐇𝟏 | 𝐂𝐇𝟐 ┈┒

❲☆❳ 𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁 ╰┈┈┈ 𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝙰𝚄 ┈┈┒

[EXC] “Don’t forget Sua, this will be the first male HoloStar. FASTWAVE! is going to be known for something bigger and better than collecting old pieces of shit. Whoever he is, he needs to make the panties drop and pussies pop.” She says nothing in return and excuses herself from the room.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝙲𝙷𝟷 | 𝙲𝙷𝟸 ┈┒

❲ ❢ ❳ 𝙐𝙉𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿 ╰┈┈ 𝙍𝙀/𝘽𝙄𝙊𝙃𝘼𝙕𝘼𝙍𝘿 𝘼𝙐 ┈┒

[SUM TO BE REVISED] When their base of operation gets busted, Sua and her co-worker must find a new location to produce T. They end up at an unsuspecting high school where she meets Negan.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

❲★❳ 𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫 ╰┈ 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐃 𝐀𝐔 ┈┒

[Summary] France releases an airborne virus designed to eradicate all Cryptids. It ends up having the opposite effect… Kagura wants to be left alone, but that might not be possible when she meets Max, then Negan.

[NOTE] This is a Max and Negan fic, both are main characters.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝐂𝐇𝟏 | 𝐂𝐇𝟐 ┈┒

❲ ❢ ❳ 𝙐𝙉𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿 ╰┈┈┈┈ 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘼𝙐 ┈┈┈┈┒

[Summary] -

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

❲ ❢ ❳ 𝘼𝙇𝙐𝙈𝙉𝙄 ╰┈┈┈┈┈ 1-𝘚𝘏𝘖𝘛 ┈┈┈┈┈┒

[Summary] Sua attends her high-schools college fair and sees Negan again.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

✺ 　 ·*

　 ˚ 　 ✦ * 　　

⋆ . . 　　 ✦ 　　　　　 ·. + 𝙅𝙅𝘽𝘼

* ⋆ 　　 ˚ 　　

　　　　　 ⋆ * . ⋆ ⊹

　 ⋆ *

❲☆❳ 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐤 ╰┈ 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐃 𝐀𝐔 ┈┒

[Summary] Risotto wants to kill the boss of Passione, Prosciutto helps him out.

cryp·tid | \ ˈkrip-təd

Any creature that may or may not exist. Sightings of various cryptids have been reported, but their reality has not been proven.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝐂𝐇𝟏 | 𝐂𝐇𝟐 | 𝐂𝐇𝟑 ┈┒

❲ ❢ ❳ 𝘾𝙍𝙐𝙎𝙃 𝙊𝙉 ╰┈┈ 𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙓 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙤 ┈┈┒

[WARNINGS] -

[Summary] After the abduction of her brother, Trish Una is swept up into the dealings of Passione. Delivered by Periculo, she is left under the protection of La Squadra Esecuzioni, the hitman team. (And no, she’s totally not crushing on one of them.)

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

✺ 　 ·*

　 ˚ 　 ✦ * 　　

⋆ . . 　　 ✦ 　　　　　 ·. + 𝘽𝙇𝙀𝘼𝘾𝙃

* ⋆ 　　 ˚ 　　

　　　　　 ⋆ * . ⋆ ⊹

　 ⋆ *

❲☆❳ 𝙊𝙕𝙊𝙉𝙀 ╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

[Summary] “It’s pretty messed up… What you said about Momo and Izuru and I honestly don’t really know what to say about it right now. I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you… But in your own kind of twisted way,” she paused, looking at him in question, “you were a good guy weren’t you..?”

Gin didn’t so much as blink as he replied, “nah. Never was, never will be. But ya make me wanna be one.”

GinRan post TYBW and more.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 ┈┒

#my writing #my fic post

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our-flag-means-death-ao3feed · 2 years

Text

Moth to a Flame

by WearerOfFineThings

OFMD Kinktober Day 11 Monsterfucking (not really) Tentacles (kind of) Crack Taken Seriously??? ~~~~~ “Pft, typically sighted.” Ed’s voice teased, his hand sliding around Stede’s waist as he joined them.

“Mothman is absolutely real, darling! There’s plenty of evidence, don’t you remember that podcast we’ve been listening to?” Stede chastised.

“No he’s not. ‘Sides. Krakens are cooler. And actually exist.” Ed pointed to his costume, a purple waistcoat over a black fishnet shirt paired with a long purple skirt that dragged across the floor. He wore dark eyeshadow and foam tentacles sprouted from his back. He looked majestic.

Words: 1609, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 9 of OFMD Kinktober

Fandoms: Our Flag Means Death (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Stede Bonnet

Relationships: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet

Additional Tags: Kinktober, OFMD Kinktober, monsterfucking but not really, Tentacles but not really, Dildos, Sex Toys, Bottom Stede Bonnet, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cryptids, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Author is Open to Hearing about Dead Batteries, laughing during sex

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/42323892

#Our flag means death #ofmd

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em-gray · 3 years

Text

TGGTVAV fanfic recs

hi all! earlier today i was lamenting this fandom did not seem to have any fic recs posts, but then i realized i could just make one of those myself! so here you have it, a random collection of some of my favorite tggtvav fics, briefly summarized and somewhat sorted! long post ahead

Canon compliant/canon era

- claire de lune by goldenthunderstorms: Pre-GG, Percy and Monty dance at a party. Extremely soft, extremely tender, the yearning is so strong. 2.2k.

- “with you by my side, there’s nothing else i want” by future_fae_king: Post-LG! Extremely cute one-shot featuring miscommunication and marriage proposals. 7.1k.

- he brought with him the summer by greener_pastures (MisPronounce_and_MisAccent). Pre-GG. Canon era friends with benefits fic!! This fic’s beautiful prose never fails to take my breath away. 4.1k.

- Explain This To Me by lady_flash. Post-GG, Percy and Felicity talk about Monty and Percy's relationship. 2.2k.

- To my darling Monty, by HeleneInTheClouds. A mysterious and heart-wrenching epistolary fic with canon-divergence. I will not know peace until I know how it ends. 5.3k, 30/50 chapters.

Modern era

- The Not-Gentleman’s Guide to Coming Out by the_jennster. Nonbinary Monty! Established Mercy! An absolute gem. 1.8K.

- To the Letter by pinstripedJackalope. Monty works at a bookstore, Percy is a famous musician. Trans Percy! Bookbinding! Falling in love! 19.3k, 7/14 chapters.

- The Beautiful Game by lady_flash. Monty and Percy are footballers! An absolute rollercoaster of a fic and a true fandom classic. Who knew reading about sports could be fun? M-rated, 62k, 13/13 chapters. (And it has an in-progress sequel!! As well as a very spicy one-shot continuation.)

- for fear your grace should fall by future_fae_king. Monty is a professional dancer, Percy is an indie artist, they get paired up on the dance competition show Nine to Jive. Trans Percy! Nonbinary Monty! Showbizz drama! And much, much glitter. 14.7k, 5/? chapters.

- altarcations by goldenthunderstorms. Monty and Percy get paired up on a Married at First Sight-type show, and everything that comes from that. Beautiful fic that will hit all the emotions. 65.7k, 4/5 chapters.

- invisible letters to disappeared darlings by coyotestoryteller. A SVTHSA-inspired AU. Extremely poignant and one of the most poetic fics in the tag. (And it has a cute little continuation one-shot!!) 13.5k, 6/6 chapters.

- broken oaths & bleeding hearts by pjobroadwayslut14. Vampire hunter Percy, vampire Monty, need I say more? 37.7k, 7/14 chapters.

- Hospital Beds by Pink_Cactus. This one goes out to the angst-lovers: five times Monty and Percy spent in hospitals together. It remains to date unfinished, which is a crime because it is a masterpiece. 27.4k, 4/5 chapters.

- The College Student’s Guide to Sex and Stage Plays by lady_flash and nottherealmontynewton. Little self-promo here as I co-author the fic (yes that’s my burner sdgsdgds) but I’m just really really proud of it. Percy is struggling with a crush and Monty offers to help him out. Friends with benefits! College cryptid Monty! Zero braincells. M-rated, 44.6k, 9/11 chapters.

Other AUs

- What Lurks Behind the Looking Glass by pinstripedJackalope. A very funky, vibe-y fic that isn't like anything else in the tag. Bottle messages? Mermaid Percy? Magic mirrors? This fic’s got it all. E-rated, 6.2k, 1/2 chapters.

- So you wanna marry Jeanne? by A_Butter_Churner. A Princess and the Frog AU! Only at its first chapter, but looking very promising. 2.4k, 1/15 chapters.

- Wilkommen by Random2002. Private detective Percy! Cabaret dancer Monty! Only two chapters in, but a fantastic time so far. 6.1k, 2/? chapters.

honestly i love too many fics so i will probably make a continuation of this post!! and if anyone ever wants any specific recs feel free to hmu <3

#the gentleman's guide to vice and virtue #tggtvav #monty montague #percy newton #the lady's guide to petticoats and piracy #tlgtpap #fic recs #em rambles #long post

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rennyrose · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11 for Kirkewood is up on Webtoons-!

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/kirkewood/thats-embarrassing/viewer?title_no=539450&episode_no=11

#oooooofta #drawing #sketch #digital art #kirkewood #kirkewood comic #webcomic #oc

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chrysalizzm · 3 years

Note

Do you have fic recs or head canons? please ramble for paragraphs im bored and looking for something to read.

oh boy do i have some fic recs for you (and everyone who sees this), my friend! this one is quite long because there are a lot of fics i like and this isn’t all of them, so if you’d like more, you can check out my bookmarks page ^^

The Run and Go by Numanum

“That’s not fair,” Bad protests. Dream raises an eyebrow at him and jerks his tied hands in emphasis, clearly saying that none of this is fair.

“Look, you keep running! Who runs if they’re not guilty?” Bad challenges, staring him down with obvious distrust from the generous distance of exactly five feet. It’s fair, as much as Dream hates to admit it; it’s not like he’s been the most honest hostage in the past, with all of his escaping and running and framing himself for his own murder, apparently.

“Only the good die young, and only the guilty run,” Technoblade chimes in, holding his own potato and sitting in the snow like it’s not cold at all.

A hot flash of irritation burns through him.

“Someone being chased?” he counters sarcastically, jerking his tied wrists up again to wave them in front of the group. Sapnap laughs so hard that he almost chokes on his potato, but it dies off when Dream gives him an icy stare.

Or: Dream is having a hard time, and the hunter just want to adopt him like a stray puppy that bites you at every opportunity.

multi-chapter, ongoing.

a manhunt with plot-style fic! exquisitely written, visceral in the emotions it evokes. it’s the kind of fic that makes me feel all shaky with anticipation, the kind that i have a physical reaction to; you can’t put it down.

pain. all-consuming pain. this one feels bad, man

and as he fell (you walked away) by Teahound

Once upon a time, there were three hunters.

They were good at what they did. If you wanted something-- or better yet, someone-- found, discovered, or destroyed, they were the people you asked. They didn’t have much to their name, besides a formidable reputation, but they were a team, and that was enough for them.

Once upon a time, there was a king in the forest.

He wore a mask, but it didn’t matter. That deep in the forest, in a hidden fortress, buried behind leaves and monsters and broken stone, no one could see his face anyway. He had been there a very long time, and he was alone.

Being a king can be a very lonely thing. So one day, the king left the fortress.

A Minecraft manhunt AU, with a fantasy twist. Dream is a cryptid, and Hunters are idiots.

multi-chapter (11), complete.

tea’s fic!! a manhunt-with-plot fic, featuring a forest spirit dream and circumstantial hunters and friendships that feel both intensely real and desperately melancholy because they can’t last.

or can they?

The Real World by Cinammonzoa and Fire_Fly464

"Ten, paces fire!"

Time stopped.

Tommy’s entire body went numb. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but his body was determined to keep him silent. His vision went dark, and he could no longer feel his headphones over his ears. The mouse in his hand. The slight breeze of his ceiling fan. For a few seconds, he couldn’t feel anything.

His senses came back to him all at once. The first thing Tommy noticed was the weight in his right hand -- a bow. His nostrils stung with the lingering scent of gunpowder. In front of him was a masked figure. Their right arm was bent, their elbow by their face. In their left hand was a bow, aiming directly at--

~~~

Aka Dream and Tommy get transported into the SMP world and have no idea what the fuck is happening

multi-chapter (23), complete

you’ve probably seen this one if you haunt the video blogging rpf/minecraft tags of ao3 often! an irl!dream and tommy replace their smp counterparts type of beat, very upbeat in dynamic and fun to keep pace with, great read.

staying alive (though the city is dead) by Alice_Not_In_Wonderland

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," Schlatt smirks, his words lilting, almost song-like. His eyes seem to glow brighter. "Tell me, Dream, when did you realize that you could talk and talk and talk and no one would ever believe you?"

---

or: if dream's damned to be a villain in every story he's in, then he's going to show them exactly how much of one he can be

one-shot, complete.

the gratuitous greek mythology references are truly everything and this fic is such a good dissection of dream and schlatt’s motivations and how their goals intersect, and dream’s likening to cassandra really hits different

Green & Gold by HognoseSnake

George’s legs ached.

His lungs felt tight and too small.

His breath was loud in his ears.

His pack bounced uncomfortably on his shoulders.

George, homeless and adrift, is an outlaw of the Mad King's reign. He'd spent the last two months being hunted across the wilderness at the fringe of society by a ruthless killer in a smiling mask and bright green coat. This, he understood.

What he didn't understand is why such a ruthless killer kept letting him go.

multi-chapter (8), complete. sequel ongoing.

a breathtaking pseudo-manhunt-with-plot fic, with george and dream running from a kingdom that wants them dead for perceived transgressions. this shit hurted, and the sequel hurts even worse ;-; snake please i beg

We’re Only Young series by ImperialKatwala

It's easy to forget amid the chaos and bloodshed how similar - and how young - Dream and Technoblade really are.

collection of both one-shots and ongoing multi-chapter fics.

((bangs on table)) please read this series it is dream and techno friendship fics that alternate between lighthearted and heartwrenchingly comforting and imperialkatwala’s characterisation of them and their respective groups of family and friends is so frickin’ good i read this series when i’m not having a good day and it never fails to make me crack a smile

kept promises and old ruins and names carved into stone by verecundiam

"Would you... would you want to stay here?" Bad wrings his hands, looking away. "Like, like actually stay? I know it's not, ah, not exactly comfortable, or all that homey, but I don't want you two to get hurt out there on your own, and I just... I think maybe you could stay? If you want?"

"That sounds nice," Sapnap says, because it does.

(Or: How four kids managed to build a family, against all odds.)

one-shot, complete.

muffinteers found family that makes me want to go to the smp writers and beg it to be made canon. unbelievably soft yet excellent at parsing out the younger counterparts of the four and creating backgrounds that feasibly form them into the people they grow up to be.

in the age of icons by BananasofThorns

“Yeah, keep digging,” Tommy crows.

The pickaxe hesitates on the downswing. The air shifts; Dream’s aura bursts into visibility, brilliant green and jagged. Ozone hums on Techno’s tongue and Bad stutters in the middle of his sentence. Up on the wall, silhouetted by the sun, Dream stands frozen and furious.

L'manberg messes with something it shouldn't. Techno watches the repercussions and tries not to laugh.

one-shot, complete.

i love deity aus (figures, i wrote one myself akjdfh), and this one hits. there’s something exquisitely delicate about how dream and the repercussions his godhood both on himself and on the people who are exposed to him in that moment of unbridled rage.

that's how we keep going (we make the best of things) by lieyuu

[ i can’t decide if this is heaven or hell. the walls keep closing in and we’re running out of space, but you’re pretty cute ]

“So, do you want to build a flower shop, a cottage, or a coffee shop?” Puffy asks, smiling like just Niki’s presence is enough to light up her world.

Niki looks at her, thinks, I want to bend nature to my will and weave tapestries in your name, says, “I think I might like the flower shop best.”

one-shot, complete.

a niki/puffy fic that crushed me in its hands in just six hundred words. the delicate love and wonder and beauty of this fic killed me softly and i welcomed it. it’s girls in love rendered by lieyuu’s masterful hand, what more could you want

i need it to be known that as i was typing up my thoughts midnight love by girl in red started playing from my playlist if that’s not a shining endorsement i don’t know what is

did i ruin the moment? by itisjosh

Ranboo drags himself through the snow, burn wounds going up and down his body. His suit is crumpled, half of it discarded as he crawls along the ground. His eyes are firmly pressed shut, and he refuses to open them, just in case he sees him, Dream, again. Ranboo sobs as the snow melts on his skin, the water scalding him as it trickles down his arms and chest.

one-shot, complete.

it’s character death, i do need to put it out there because it felt like i was punched in the stomach at the end even though i knew. josh knows exactly how to drag his readers kicking and screaming into angst hell, as always - a ranboo is rescued by phil fic wherein ranboo ends up convincing himself that the only reason for his presence in the nearly-empty anarchist commune is because phil sees him as a placeholder for his sons ;-; pain

Frame The Halves, And Call Them Brothers by MusicallyActive

"Let's go!" Quackity roared. "Let's fucking go!"

The anvil dropped, and Techno reached for his totem of undying. This was going to hurt like a bitch.

Phil screamed something, and instantly a crushing force struck Technoblade's skull. It rattled him to the core, doused his vision in red, and then all he knew was black.

He gasped awake moments later to the sound of his communicator pinging softly at his bedside table, and when Technoblade opened his eyes, New L'manburg was nowhere in sight.

one-shot, complete.

a techno timeloop fic that shows off the unintentional cruelty of the children who run l’manberg and techno’s own inability to allow the people he tries so hard not to love to come to harm. techno’s rendered in painstaking detail; this one was cathartic in the best way.

on i go (move to move) by Aenqa

If you ask someone whether they’ve ever experienced real, severe physical pain, you’ll learn a lot from their response.

Techno knows what it means to be in pain. He’s accepted it as a necessary consequence of keeping his family safe. But when the pain he's experiencing starts to become too much to bear alone, it takes his family to show him what it might mean to feel better.

one-shot, complete.

chronic pain fic featuring sbi!! it’s really good - aenqa wrote chronic pain well, and incorporated respawn mechanics into it well, and the dynamic between sbi is impeccable.

Yellow and Blue and- by nic_takes_Ls (nic_L)

It’s another gorgeous day in New L’Manberg. Tubbo’s stilted streets of deep toned spruce and honey-touched oaks are warm under his feet from the sun, and a sign and a small banner proclaim the country’s name in front of his face. Wilbur is so happy to let the ‘L’ roll of his tongue as he says it, ‘Manberg’ was harsh and too guttural, but the two extra syllables make it something that could fit on a melody, a four-note beat he could set the pace of his unbeating heart to.

The citizens of New L’Manberg track him with cautious eyes at first, until Tubbo changes his eyes to slightly sad ones, listening along to Wilbur’s rambles, warming up to the truly soot-grey sight of his face and sunshine yellow of his ever-present sweater. The rest of the population soon follow, laughing at Wilbur’s strange innocence and telling him what he’s done with only a little bit of spite in a pitying mask and fixing their mouths in a line when he suddenly forgets what he’s doing or stares into space or laughs at nothing.

But all the people who get sad when Wilbur starts laughing after shock-still silence are dumb.

Because Wilbur’s not laughing at nothing.

one-shot, complete.

a ghostbur fic from quite early on! it includes references to wilbur and schlatt’s older videos/smp experiences and has a super interesting take on the nature of wilbur’s amnesia i enjoyed this fic a lot ^^

east of eden series by subwaywalls

Philza protects his home.

(An angel with a singing blade of fire guards the gates to paradise.)

two one-shots, one ongoing multi-chapter fic.

READ IT READ IT READ IT. the eoe series is exquisite in both content and presentation, centering around sbi and the powers they all respectively have but also bringing in people like grian and dream, and subwaywalls is a master of packaging her words ever so delicately to create an experience that is ethereal.

#long post #fic recs #chrys rambles #asks

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naffeclipse · 2 years

Note

I just finished chapter 11 of sleuth jesters and JEIALDKIAIDJAKSIJSKAKAIIDJA I am so in love with your writing!! There's so much I could say about this au but I don't even know where to start AAAAA the back stories!! The relationships!!! Gregory and Freddy AUDUAKDJAI!!!! I am eating all of this like candy!! I love eclipse!!! He's the perfect villain!!! Gosh that 11th chapter made my heart hurt!!! I love it so much!!!

ALSO I read some of the cryptic au and I LOVE THAT TOO!!! I'm going to sit down this weekend and binge read all of your work

Ahhh, hi!! I'm melting in my chair rn, eee, I'm so happy to hear that!

ALSJDFAF that chapter 11 is something else, huh? AND OH! I hope you enjoy Cryptid Sightings as well!! Thank you for reading!! ♥ Ahhh, good luck binge reading :D

#maudiemoods #compliments that make me cry (out of joy)#moots

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nether--prince · 4 years

Link

Chapters: 11/? Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James/Tim Stoker, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims, Sasha James, Tim Stoker, Peter Lukas, Elias Bouchard, Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Georgie Barker, Melanie King Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Cryptids, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Paranormal Investigators, Mothman, Selkies, Vampires, the assistants are basically buzzfeed unsolved, Platonic Cuddling, Werewolves, Witches, Trans Male Character, Trans Female Character Series: Part 1 of the mothjon prophecies Summary:

in which there are new sights.

#the mothjon prophecies #tma #the magnus archives #tma jon #tma martin #tma tim #tma sasha #tma elias #tma daisy #tma melanie #tma georgie #jonmartin #timsasha #what the girlfriends #jay #j writes #tma basira #daisira

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its-artsy-author · 5 years

Text

Purple Comes From Red And Blue Chapter One

prologue

chapter one: in which the Naughty Boi takes the Pure and Nerd Bois on a ride, and aliens happen (part one of two)

ship(s): klance as a fusion, eventual klunk

word count: 3,883

tws/cws: running away, being yelled at/ridiculed by authority figures, aliens??? is that a trigger???, syringes, medical experiments, non-consensual experimentation

Our story begins with a flight simulator in the most prestigious astro-explorer academy in the world, the Galaxy Garrison.

A dark-haired boy in an orange, white and grey flight suit grabs a walkie-talkie from its stowage point above him, “Galaxy Garrison flight log 5-11-14. Begin descent to Kerberos for rescue mission.” He tilts the control stick on his dashboard forward.

“Ugh. Klance, can you keep this thing straight?” A large Samoan boy in the same flight suit exclaims, hands moving frantically over a screen in front of him. He retches, nauseous, as the ship swerves.

Our pilot, Klance, is a tall boy with dark brown, almost black, hair and pale brown skin. “Relax, Hunk,” presumably the engineer behind him, “I’m just getting a feel for the stick. Besides, it’s not like I did this!” Klance jerks the control stick sharply to the right. The ship swerves in that direction, tossing its contents around wildly.

“Klance, stop it, unless you want to be stuck on cleaning duty again! I will throw up!” Hunk grabs the dashboard in front of him, stomach lurching. Klance huffs an annoyed sigh, but complies, shifting the controls for a smoother flight. A disruptive beeping sounds from the walkie-talkie that the communications officer has hanging on a small perch above them. The smaller figure, pale and slender with wide owlish eyes, calls out to the rest of their team, “Klance, we’ve picked up a distress beacon!” they peer over at the pilot, who somehow manages to exude an aura of nonchalant confidence while also having taut muscles and a focused expression.

“Look alive, team! Pidge, track coordinates.” The communications officer- Pidge, their name was- turns back to their console, muttering their assent, just as the ship begins shaking again; the overhead fluorescent lights flash red and alarms blare from every speaker.

Hunk groans, clutching at his mouth and pushing his monitor away from him. The craft rumbled and shook again, “Knock it off, Klance, please!” he complains, lurching in his seat.

Klance sends a sharp look Hunk’s way, “Oh, this one’s on you, buddy. We’ve got a hydraulic stabilizer out, and, last I checked, that was your area of expertise, not mine.” He turns back to the front window of the craft.

Hunk pulls his monitor back to himself before leaning forward and clamping a hand over his mouth. “Oh, no-” his stomach lurches again and Hunk barely avoids retching. Klance groans, running a hand through his dark hair and rolling his eyes- a kind-of dark indigo-blue.

“Nope! Fix now, puke later, Hunk!” He refocuses intently on the screen. Pidge calls out to their team that they've lost the signal because of the shaking. “It’s interfering with our sensors!”

Klance drives the base of his palm into his temple, chastising his nauseous teammate as he returns to the screen in front of him. “Ah, nevermind, boys, thar she blows!"

Fatal last words, he thinks, standing in front of Iverson and taking his shit yet again.

"You are the most incompetent officers I've ever seen in this program, and what's more, the worst team! This kind of shit is what cost the lives of the men on the Kerberos mission!" Klance (literally) glowed in anger at that, their two souls dangerously close to splitting. Keith nearly punched Iverson, and Lance barely held them together and shoved a hand over the indignant mouth of his crewmate, Pidge. "Tomorrow'd better be the best run you've ever had or so help me god, you won't live to see the end of this program!" Klance winces at his harsh tone, flinching as spit falls on his face with the end of his sentence. "Get out of my sight," he growls.

"NEXT!"

That night, Klance and Hunk sneak out.

Hunk bites his fingernails, looking around nervously as he and Klance creep down the halls. "This is a bad idea- This- This right here? This is a really bad idea." Klance makes an offhanded, nonchalant noise in response, opening the roof door with a creak. Hunk winces at the sound, head whipping back to see if anyone heard.

A lone figure rests there, hunched intently over a bright screen of numbers. Large headphones engulf a good bit of their head. Klance tiptoes over to them, eyes widening in surprise at the figure being Pidge, then smiles impishly, reaching out one hand to yank off the headset. "You come up here to test your cryptid theories?" Pidge's head turns so fast it gives them whiplash, flailing in the air and losing their balance onto the concrete roof.

"Wha- I- No- What are you doing here? You're the one always complaining about your beauty sleep."

Klance mumbles to himself, "Keith's the one who never washes his goddamn face, but sure,"

Hunk looks at him weirdly, "Dude, what'd you say?"

"Uhh, nothing?"

"Sure, Jan."

"Anyway, what're you doing up here? Shouldn't you be, uhh... Doing... Something? Look, I'm not good at this, okay?" Klance rambles, reaching down to his waist to fiddle with something, but it's not there. He looks almost worried before seeming to remember something.

All this is observed by Hunk, resident goofball, and crusher on friend of Klance. He and Klance met on the first day at Garrison, and they've been roommates ever since. Granted, they were governmentally mandated roommates, but they got along happily besides! Hunk has a moderate anxiety disorder, and Klance is usually great with helping him out with it. (In the sims, he got really weirdly focused and couldn't deal with anyone's anxiety but his own, but otherwise he was really good about it.) Hunk suspected that Klance had some sort of behavioural disorder, as he displayed symptoms of ADHD, but found it difficult to remember social cues occasionally.

However, that didn't stop him from being an absolute living meme, and Hunk truly enjoyed being in his crush's friend's company.

"So, what're you even doing up here anyway?" Hunk is jolted out of his reverie by Klance peering over Pidge's shoulder at their code.

"You wouldn't understand. Or take me seriously, for that matter."

"Try me."

Pidge sighs, "We're not alone in this universe. Now, I know what that sounds like, with me being an avid cryptid fan, but, seriously." They grow somber. "I've been scanning the solar system, and picking up alien radio chatter."

Hunk shook his head, "What? So- so you mean, like, aliens? They exist?"

Klance looked both skeptical and enthused at the same time, if that was possible. He settled on enthused. "Ahh! Oh my gosh, really? That's so cool! Show me!" He slips on a pair of headphones, his eyes growing brighter as he hears the supposed '"alien radio chatter."

"They've been repeating one word: Voltron."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Awesome!"

Their nerding out is interrupted by a bright spot on the horizon. Klance snatches up a pair of binoculars of Pidge's, staring up at the dot of fire. "That ship is not one of ours!" He exclaims, Hunk panicking in the background. It crashes with an explosion behind a hill near the Garrison building.

"We've gotta go check it out!" Pidge jumps up, packing up their tech and running back to the roof door.

"I don't know..." Hunk mumbles.

"C'mon, Hunk! Think of it as a team-building excercise!" Klance dashes after them.

"Oh, this is the worst team-building excercise ever." Hunk grumbles, reluctantly following the pair.

They set up shop on a cliff ledge overlooking the place where the ship crashed. Pidge has their tech out, graphing data from the crash; Klance looks at the crash site, overrun by med techs and officers, through binoculars; Hunk bites his nails worriedly behind them, occasionally commenting on their collected data.

"What the heck's even in that ship?" Klance asks himself, wincing as Keith has a different opinion than Lance. His- Their fingers glow, and hethey struggles to keep it together.

"Dude, you good?"

"Uhh..." They pull their sleeves over their fingers. "Yeah, all good!" Klance says, high-pitched with the lie, feeling the glow subside as they reassimilate. They- he's going to have to defuse soon. Staying fused after nearly unfusing isn't good for them- him.

"Sure, Jan."

Klance leans over Pidge's shoulder. "How's it coming on that security footage?"

Their eyes are trained completely on the screen. "Almost there... c'mon... got it!" The screen fills with a live feed of inside the ship.

[Shirogane struggles against restraints.]

'You've got to listen to me! Aliens are coming!'

"Whoa." Klance jerks back from the screen. "That's Takashi Shirogane! The best pilot at the Garrison!" Pidge looks like they want to argue, but stays quiet as Klance continues his rant. "And is that Matt Holt? And they're not even going to listen to them? How dumb can you get?" Klance is shushed and the quartet trio returns to the screen.

"The subjects appear to have cyborg prosthetics, sir. One with an arm, the other a leg."

"Put them under until we find out what those things can do."

"No, no, don't put me under! You have to listen to me! Listen to me-"

[Shirogane's voice cuts off, strangled, as a med tech injects a syringe into his arm. Next to him, another humanoid flails wildly, being put under a similar procedure. The second subject is identified as Matt Holt, though he stays silent.]

Pidge looks up, wide-eyed, to Klance- except Klance isn't there, he's sprinting towards the ship. Pidge calls out to him, but he's too far. As Klance knocks out the guards with a few well-placed punches, Pidge settles for watching the live feed of the med room.

The med techs inside are taken out swiftly, and Klance lifts both of the patients up- seriously, this guy has the strength of two men- and hefts them out of the ship.

Pidge watches as they exit. Klance picks up a small, round item out of his pocket and lobs it in the opposite direction. A small explosion rocks the area there soon after. He makes his escape swiftly, grabbing an unused Jeep and tossing the pair in. "Pidge! Hunk! C'mon!" He hops in the driver's seat, and Pidge and Hunk race down the hill to meet them.

Sometime along the bumpy journey over sand dunes and rocks, Pidge realizes something. "Do you even know where you're going?" They shout over the motor, sand spraying their face.

He yells back something garbled that sounds like, "No, but Keith should!" and they know they've misheard.

"What?"

"I said, uh, I think I should!"

"Oh, okay!"

It's got to be three in the morning, the moon shining over the Arizona desert, when they finally reach a little middle-of-nowhere, dilapidated shack that looks like it's falling apart slowly under sand spray and wind erosion.

Pidge gives zero fucks, however, and drags Matt in, collapsing on a couch and passing out. Hunk does similarly on a loveseat. Klance situates Shiro on the floor, dragging a couple blankets onto him before going to Keith's tiny, cramped room and defusing.

Lance barely stumbles into Keith's arms before dragging them both into the tiny double trundle bed and tangling their legs together, kissing him sloppily once and passing out five seconds later.

Pidge wakes up with a crick in their neck and a taste like old lemons in their mouth. They yawn and open their eyes blearily, pinching sleep out of their eyes. They snatch up their glasses, smiling in relief at Matt's sleeping form, silhouetted by the desert sunrise. Shiro is curled up next to him, and their hands are clasped together like a lifeline. Pidge chooses to ignore that fact, looking around the small, shabbily furnished room. Something looks a little off, though, and it takes their sleep-addled brain a second to catch up to their surroundings.

Where's Klance?

Memories from last night come rushing in. How did Klance even know this was out here? Is it his?

Pidge shoves themself up forcefully from the couch they passed out on, wandering on unsteady legs down a tiny hallway that has three doors. One is ajar, grimy tile and porcelain visible in the dim light of a bulb on the ceiling that fizzles out soon after they turn it on. The other is a small closet, filled with supplies like rope, a ladder, and is that a hatchet?

The last room is firmly shut, and, upon further inspection, is locked with a rusty bolt used well beyond its years. A strong scent of coffee wafts from the room. This must be Klance's room. They knock, "Klance? Y'in there?"

Klance's voice shouts back at them, "Uh, yeah! Be out in a bit!" His voice seems off. It's too gravelly, too masculine, although that could be attributed to waking up.

Inside the room, Keith sighs in relief in tandem with Lance. "C'mon, Lance. Let's fuse." His voice is bored and tired, but the creases in his face light up when he says the word fuse. For them, it's the ultimate form of intimacy and closeness, something physical contact just can't compare to. Opening your mind, being vulnerable to your partner and sharing your entire self with them- it's perfect to them.

Lance makes grabby hands at Keith, pulling him close and giggling at his truly elegant squawk of surprise. Lance presses himself against Keith, and then they're not Lance and Keith, not two separate beings, they're one. Klance.

Klance shrugs on a black t-shirt and Lance's green army jacket, undoing the bolt on the door and stretching. He slips on a pair of flip-flops, trudging towards the kitchen and setting a pot of coffee. He mutters a greeting to Pidge, dutifully ignoring their questions about their location, and fries up some bacon and scrambled eggs. Toast? In the toaster. Plates? On the table. Hotel? Trivago.

Pidge pours the coffee on Klance's request, refilling the pot and handing out mugs to people. Hunk is shaken awake, and Shiro is woken up by the smell of coffee. He and Matt sit quietly in the corner, sipping coffee and watching their surroundings warily.

The strange congregation perches on various bits of furniture, eating quietly, when Pidge pipes up, "Okay. Enough's enough. Where are we?"

Klance sighs. "This belonged to my parents." It's not technically a lie.

Pidge raises an eyebrow, "I thought your parents were from Cuba. They pick you up every year."

Lie, lie, lie. Deflect, deflect. "Uh... a couple generations ago, the conquistadors came here and a couple eloped?"

"The conquistadors were Spanish."

"Fuck."

"It's mine," Shiro puts in. "I gave it to K- Klance before I 'went off gallivanting into space,' as your mother would put it." He smiles weakly.

Pidge rounds on him, "You know Klance? From where?"

"Hey, hey, let's calm down. We don't need to know all the answers at once," Matt puts in sleepily. Pidge practically vaults over the table to get to him.

"Matt! You're okay! What happened to your leg? I knew you were alive! They kept saying you were dead but I never believed them, oh my god, Matt, you're alive!"

"Yeah, I noticed." Matt says tiredly, giving Pidge a sloppy hug and ruffling their hair.

After breakfast, Klance puts their ragtag team into employ to... drumroll please... Clean the cabin! They all work together, and, with some music from Klance's iPod (all his stuff is purple, red or blue. It's creepy, almost. Like those colours mean something. -Pidge, making observations as they enter the rich life of a Garrison student.), they make quick work of it.

After they've finished cleaning, the group drapes themselves over a variety of furniture. Pidge spies a sheet covering something in a corner. Unable to sate their curiosity otherwise, they walk up to it, yanking down the sheet and gasping at the board behind it. Pictures connected by strings and charts and graphs cover the corkboard. Star charts depict the exact date and time that Shiro and Matt arrived. Pictures and data readings of a giant mechanical thing litter its surface.

"Hey, Klance?"

"Yeah, Pidgeotto?"

"What's this?"

"Shit."

"Alright, everyone! Gather round, children, because it's time for Uncle Klance to tell you a story," Klance calls the group to sit in a semicircle around the closest chair to the corkboard. "Okay. So, I've been sneaking out at night." It's not technically a lie, because Keith had been sneaking out to the shack and Lance had entertained his "crackpot conspiracy theories." "But, while Hunk-a-burnin'-love over here thought I was sucking dick, I was actually coming out here. There's this crazy energy out here. It felt... Almost like it was calling me to search. So I did. And I found this cave with these weird lion carvings."

Pidge jumps up, "Do you think that that's Voltron? Weird energy, that could be aliens."

Hunk hums, considering. "Could be. Do you have proof?"

"Yeah. I've been tracking the energy. It's a tangible thing, like something on the periodic table. It's not any element I've ever seen before, though."

"Maybe I could build something to look for it, like a Voltron Geiger counter."

"Sure. The wavelength is so weird. It looks like this." Klance holds up a sheet of graphing paper with a seemingly random red line on it.

Matt snaps his fingers, "Give me that!" He snatches the paper, muttering an apology as he lifts it up to a picture of the cliffs near the cave. The red lines up with the outline of the cliffs almost exactly.

Hunk whistles. "Creepy, my man."

------

The group treks through craggy terrain made of crumbling reddish rock. Hunk and Pidge have a complicated setup of wires and junk parts going. Although the sound of the makeshift tech is annoying, the group follows with minimal complaint (apart from Klance, who says what Keith's thinking with Lance's attitude.). They approach a cave, Klance leading the way once he starts recognizing landmarks ("Ooh! I remember busting my ankle on that rock!" -Klance. "Dude, that's why you couldn't walk for a week?" -Hunk. "Oh, I thought he just got really fucked out." -Pidge. "Language!" -Shiro. "Yeah, watch your fucking language, kiddies." -Matt.)

The group stands at the mouth of the cave, peering down into the dank, dripping gloom. "Well!" Klance bounds forward, "This is the cave, so, if you'll excuse the miscellaneous coffee cups, various pieces of tech and other junk lying around, let's go!"

Matt shoves his hands into the pockets of his borrowed hoodie, looking at the cool carvings everyone is gawking over. "I don't see what's so special about carved rock," Matt says, wiping the dust and rock debris from one of the carvings of a lion.

A piercing noise, not unlike a sound effect in a show or movie, emits from the walls, and the carvings glow bright blue. The blue energy spiderwebs across the cavern floor like cracks, and that's about when the floor collapses and they all splash down into a lower level in the cavern.

In a gigantic blue bubble- the same colour as the carvings glowed- lays an equally gigantic blue mechanical lion. Klance hums and steps forward. Shiro gasps. "So this is what's been causing all this crazy energy out there."

Pidge gulps and rubs their eyes, "So this is it? This is the Voltron?"

Klance shrugs, "Must be-"

Five lions, a voice rumbles in their minds, deep and timeless. Five lions become one. Six souls, one bond. Deeper than life itself. The bond of the lion. Voltron.

"Did everyone else just see that?"

"Voltron is a robot. Voltron is a huge, huge, awesome robot!"

"And this is only one part of it. I wonder where the rest of them are!"

Klance steps forward, pressing his hands against the bubble, "Now, I wonder how we can get in here."

Matt shrugs. "Maybe you just have to knock?" He raps his fingers against the bubble, jumping back when it disappears and the lion's head moves down to him, opening its jaw. He laughs. "Well, alrighty then," smirks, and walks up the platform.

Klance glows blue and red behind him.

-------

"You," Klance says between gasping breaths. "Are the worst. Pilot. Ever!"

"Pidge has told me that you thought I was one of the best pilots at the Garrison, so, like..."

"Shut your fuuUCK!" Klance trips on his own feet in the cramped cockpit.

Iverson and a lower-ranked officer stand on the roof, a pair of binoculars shared between them.

"What in the Sam Hill is that?"

"It appears to be a flying blue lion, sir."

Matt grins back at the others. "Isn't this awesome?"

Hunk makes a motion as if to vomit. "Make it stop! Make it stop!"

"I'm not doing anything. It's like it's on autopilot!"

The blue lion soared ever higher.

"MAKE IT STOP!"

"I just said, it's on autopilot!"

"Hey, what's that up ahead?"

"Holy crap- is that an alien ship?"

"They found us."

Matt tries to steer the lion as best he can. He feels a rumbling in his chest- like the lion is trying to speak with him- and he listens. "Guys the lion is talking to me. It says we need to fight the alien ship."

"Okay, you're crazy," Klance grumbles.

"What did it say, exactly?" Pidge asks, short of breath.

"I- It's not like it's saying words, more like feeding ideas into my brain, kind of."

Hunk spoke up. "Well, if this is the weapon they want, why don't we just, like, give it up? Then they'll leave us alone, right?"

Shiro glares at him. "You don't understand. These monsters spread like a plague throughout the galaxy, destroying everything in their path. They won't stop until everything is dead, and giving them this weapon won't help anyone."

Everyone turns to look at Hunk.

"...Oh. Nevermind, then."

The Galra ship, which previously was lying cold and dead in space, opens fire at them as they breach the atmosphere.

"We have to get that ship out of here!" Pidge says frantically.

"Okay, I'll try!" Matt says, shooting lasers and avoiding recapture, moving away from Earth.

Inside the ship, a Galra officer faces a large screen. "Lord Zarkon, the escaped prisoners and their people found the lion. It attacked us and is heading out of the system."

On the screen, Zarkon's magnified face says, "Follow that Lion and alert all ships in the area to intercept. Capturing that Lion is your first and only priority."

"Yes, your majesty." The call ends, and the galra turns their head back. "FULL POWER AFTER THE LION!"

The lion speeds away, the Galra ship in close pursuit. Hunk bites his nails. "Oh, no!"

In front of the lion, a huge circle of swirling bluish-purplish light opens up in front of them. "I think the lion wants us to go through there!"

Pidge furrows their brow, "Do we know where it goes? Matt?"

Matt defers to Shiro. "I don't know. Shiro, you're the highest-ranked officer here. What do we do?"

Shiro picks at his cuticles. "Um- Okay. Whatever's happening, the Lion probably knows more than we do. If we don't listen to it, we might die in this ship. I say we follow what it thinks, but we're the only humans up here. We're a team now."

Matt nods at him, shoving the controls forward and blasting through the air to get to the wormhole. Klance shifts nervously.

"Guess we're all ditching class tomorrow."

next chapter

#Purple Comes From Red And Blue #klance #fusion au #voltron #fanfiction #voltron fanfiction

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codylabs · 6 years

Text

Chapter 12: Escape to the Hard Life

Links: P 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Wendy awoke.

Just outside her open window, she heard her brother running the lawn mower. Doing it early in the morning was just his way of reminding her that she had promised to mow the lawn. But since she’d procrastinated for so long, he got a bigger allowance for doing it instead.

Ugh. I forgot again. Rub my face in it, why don’t ya?

She didn’t even bother opening the drawer of her dresser, because all her clothes were lying on the floor where she’d left them in the past week. She’d meant to get the laundry done yesterday. And the day before that. But she always just said ‘I’ll to it tomorrow’. But then the tomorrows came and went, and the laundry never got done, and her plans always bumped on back to ‘tomorrow’ once again.

Ugh. I’ll do it tomorrow.

So she crawled out of bed and into her cleanest dirty shirt, and began to prepare for the day.

When she came out of her room ten minutes later, with a backpack full of gear and an armful of armor, her dad was reclining on the couch watching TV.

He wasn’t looking so great. Juan’s mom had scratched him in the shoulder, sawed him in the leg, and threw him against the side of the house. He was still hurting pretty badly, and simply couldn’t find a way to sit that didn’t tweak something somewhere.

But Daniel Corduroy was a very manly man; such mortal pains were trivial to beings like him. He didn’t complain or whine. He threw no fuss whatsoever. He just kept the bandages where they were, kept the ice against it, and watched TV like normal. WHAT’S A LITTLE PAIN? He thought. I’VE HAD WORSE. WAIT, MAYBE I HAVEN’T… OH, SHUT UP ME!

Wendy aimed for house’s front door, which meant walking directly between him and the TV. She expected her dad to mutter some annoyed remark at the interruption, like usual. But instead, he broke his eyes entirely away from the screen, reached for the remote, and turned it off. “HEY.” He said, and gave her his full attention.

She stopped walking, and turned to face him. “Hey.”

“DIDN’T SEE YOU YESTERDAY.” He grunted. “WHERE WERE YA?”

“Oh, just…” She glanced around, trying to think how to put it. “Well… We were looking around, trying to figure out where the killer robots came from. And… Well… Yeah.”

“FIND ANY ANSWERS?”

“…Yeah.”

“WHERE?”

“It’s… Uh…” She hesitated to say it. “…Kind of a need-to-know basis…”

“…YOU… WAIT… HUH? YOU’RE GONNA KEEP A SECRET FROM YOUR OWN FATHER?!?”

She glanced about nervously. “Well… I kind of have to. Just… Trust me, it’s for the greater good that it stays between as few people as possible… It’s… We said to keep it a secret. We promised… I promised to take some very… Very amazing and scary things to my grave… And I wouldn’t betray that.”

This made a bit of sense to him, but it still annoyed him. He frowned up at the ceiling for a few seconds, and took a deep breath to calm his great annoyance. “SO.” With a mighty and obvious effort, he moved on. “WHO’S ‘WE’?”

“Huh?”

“WHO DO YOU TRUST THAT MUCH? MORE THAN ME?”

“Uh… I… I do trust you dad, it’s just… Okay, uh… The Pines men… Uh… Stanley and Stanford. Remember them? Used to own the Mystery Shack…”

“A’COURSE.”

“And Dipper, their great-nephew… I was with him all of yesterday.”

Dan nodded. “OH YEAH. THE LESS-GIRLY ONE. TELL ME ABOUT HIM.”

“Huh?”

“… YOU’VE BEEN SPENDING A LOT OF TIME WITH THE KID. TELL ME ABOUT HIM.”

“He’s… Uh… He’s a good man.” She stated simply.

Dan pondered this for a moment. “…MAN?”

“That’s right.”

“…HE’S BUILT LIKE A GIRL HALF HIS AGE.”

“Oh yeah?” Wendy fished her brain for some great comeback. “Well… Eh.”

Dan considered this. It seemed wrong to him that of a pair of mixed twins, the smaller one would be the boy. And it seemed further wrong to him that said boy would be given such a share of respect and trust. It seemed even further wrong to him that the boy’s obvious shortcomings would be so consistently and totally overlooked… Dan didn’t want to think too hard about all this though, because he knew he was probably wrong… But still.

He looked back up at the ceiling and took another deep breath, while he endeavored to drag his mind back on-topic. “HOW MUCH LONGER IS THIS THING GONNA TAKE?”

“Like… Solving the mysteries of these robot things?”

“MAKING SURE THEY DON’T DO THIS NO MORE.” He pointed to his bandages. “HOW LONG ‘TILL YA BEAT ‘EM?”

She shrugged helplessly. “Like, I don’t know! This isn’t a war, dad! We don’t have an enemy that we can stand up to, it’s just a bunch of… Wild animals, we don’t even know how many! And this isn’t a job, either! I don’t have a schedule to keep or a wage to earn… I’ve put maybe 40 hours into this mess just this week, not including the time I spent recording in my diary or with you at the hospital. And we have NO idea how close we are to solving the mystery, and even LESS idea WHAT to do once we solve it…”

“40 HOURS THIS WEEK?” Dan frowned.

“Yeah.” Wendy grunted.

Dan considered this, and decided to remind her of her second priority. “YOU KNOW, YOU STILL NEED TO GET A JOB THIS SUMMER.”

Wendy closed her eyes. She had been meaning to forget that part for a while now. Her hands balled into fists within her pockets. “Yeah.” She grunted again. “I know.”

“HAVE YOU BEEN LOOKING FOR A JOB?”

“No.” She admitted, as politely as she could manage.

“YOU KNOW YOU SAID YOU WANTED A ‘GOOD’ JOB… THAT MEANS YOU NEED TO SET YOUR SIGHTS HIGH. YOU NEED A RESUME… YOU FINISHED THAT YET?”

“No.” She admitted.

Her dad frowned. “HAVE YOU EVEN BEEN WORKING ON IT?”

She took her balled fists out of her pockets. “No.” She admitted.

“…HAVE YOU STARTED IT?”

“No!” She spat.

This annoyed Dan even more. He stared up at the ceiling for a few more seconds, and breathed deeply again. He looked back at her again. “THIS IS YOUR LIFE, WENDY. YOUR GAS MONEY, YOUR DRIVER’S INSURANCE, YOUR CAR SOMEDAY, YOUR COLLEGE IF YOU WANT…”

“I know, but… There’s always stuff that… Look, it’ll GET done, dad! I’ll get a job. I will! Just…” She gestured to the armor she had in her hands, then to the door. “There’s other stuff to do…!”

“THERE ALWAYS IS! BUT IF YOU REALLY WANTED THAT JOB, YOU WOULDN’T JUST COME HOME AND WATCH TV LIKE YOU DO! YOU WOULD WORK FOR IT!”

“Yeah. Thanks. I will.” Wendy turned and made for the door.

“LOOK, I KNOW YOU DON’T WANT ME REMINDING YOU, AND I KNOW IT’S YOUR LIFE, BUT I CAN’T JUST SIT BY WHILE YOU BLOW IT!” He bellowed. “YOU’RE RUNNING AROUND CHASING GHOSTS, AND YOU THINK THAT LETS YOU GET OFF RESPONSIBILITIES! I CARE ABOUT YOU, WENDY! SOMETIMES IT SEEMS I CARE MORE THAN YOU!”

“Sure…” Wendy grunted, stepped out the front door, and slammed it shut behind her.

Ugh.

The job… Her dad expected her to have a job… It wasn’t a huge expectation, really. It was perfectly reasonable… It just happened to be the straw that broke the camel’s cool. She didn’t want to deal with this. She didn’t want to think about it. She wanted nothing more than to forget all about it. She was so… Very… Done.

She eased herself down onto the front step, pulled out her phone, and began to check through her recent messages.

-Nate found a way to make paint cans explode! Come to the football game tonight so we can totally terrorize it! -Lee

-Why aren’t you texting me? I thought you wanted to go out again! -Joe

-Free subscription to our weekly newsletter! Simply call 8005554592 with credit card information -$$Win Win Baby$$

-Robbie says he can give us a ride to the forest today. Ready to roll out at 10:00. -Dipper

-I still love you, btw. >3. -Joe

-Oops, I mean <3. -Joe

-Credit Union Fraud Center: Fuel tax $38.83 on card 6800 of your account. If valid reply YES, if fraud reply NO. To opt out reply STOP. -Credit Union Fraud Center

-3 people liked your status update.

-I understand the urgency of the matter. I’ll be at 412 Gopher Avenue on the 10th. -B.Blandin.

-I’M MOWNG THE LAN AND GETING YOUR ALLOWANS! NYEH! -Bro

-Your library book ‘Cryptids: Pseudo-Science or Reality?’ has been overdue as of 05/14/2012. Return by yesterday or pay the full buyout price. -Gravity Falls Library

-Did I mention I found a way to make paint cans explode? Instant graffiti! -Nate

She scrolled through the messages. The words entered through her eyes and into her subconscious, but they didn’t get much further than that, because she didn’t care what they said; not even a little.

This wasn’t important. This wasn’t relevant. This was just her friends, her family, and the whole of the rest of society, trying to get in at her. Trying to get a piece of her. Vying for her attention, her time, even her money… Everybody wanted a piece of Wendy, everybody was saying something different and confusing, and the only method she had to survive was to retreat: shut it out and ignore it.

She began to delete texts.

Only one really stuck out to her, and she kept it.

-Robbie says he can give us a ride to the forest today. Ready to roll out at 10:00. -Dipper

There it is.

The mission. The plan. The duty. The purpose. There was one thing at least which was tangible and real.

Here in this normal life, where everything was ordinary and routine, here was where reality was at its most confusing, most burdensome, most troubling and depressing. But in that other life, where everything was crazy and hectic, where so much good and evil hung in balance, that was where things started to fall into place. That was where she stopped being confused, and could finally stand tall enough to stop being lazy. She could forget her family, her ex-boyfriends, her responsibilities, her laundry… It freed her. This crazy life was the one place where she knew how to live.

That was the life she loved.

-Ready for pickup now. She texted Dipper back. -I’ve got my armor if you’ve got yours. See you in a bit.

Dipper tossed his backpack and armor into the back of Robbie’s van, where they clattered to a stop on top of Wendy’s. Dipper slammed the doors back shut, and made his way toward the front of the vehicle.

“So… Like, where is this place again?” Robbie was saying, as he pulled out his phone and opened the ‘maps’ program.

“Oh, you know, just… Back in the woods.” Wendy shrugged. “Uh… Head South on Befufftlefumpter Avenue, and I’ll let you know from there.”

“Oh… Okay.” Robbie put away his phone. When he noticed Dipper standing at the door, he gestured toward the back seat. “Hey, you can sit in the back, little man.”

The back seat was stuffed chock-full of edgy, gothic clothes, edgy, gothic skateboards, edgy gothic musical instruments, candy wrappers, and edgy, gothic candy wrappers. “Great.” Dipper grunted, and began shoveling the junk aside, just to make room to sit down. Robbie started the engine before he’d finished, and lurched down the road toward the forest.

From there, the trip passed in a boring sort of way. Up in the front seats, Wendy and Robbie chatted about the most recent death metal albums, arguing about whether the songs had lyrics or were just screaming, theorizing as to what those lyrics might be, gossiping about the personal lives of the band members, etcetera. Dipper tuned out after a few minutes of this, then opened his journal and looking back over the notes from their first visit.

The first time, they’d only made it into the metal forest about half a mile. Then the underbrush and accumulated malice of the sharp leaves got so painful that they couldn’t continue. This time however, Wendy’s improvised suits of armor should be able to get them as far as the needed; far enough to reach the alien coordinates.

‘Betty and Barney’ said they’d set up ‘fortifications’ there. With any luck at all, the place would hold some answers.

The pavement ended after about ten minutes of driving. The gravel ended about ten minutes after that, and then the van was bouncing and rocking its way along narrow, overgrown dirt roads, up into the hills and deeper into the unknown.

The road took one final bend toward the old logging areas, and here they instructed Robbie to stop. This was the closest such roads reached, so they’d have to continue on foot from here.

Dipper and Wendy hopped out of the van and circled around to the back, where they began to unpack their equipment, and suit up.

“Hey…” Wendy remarked. “Why’s there a third backpack in here?”

“Huh?” Dipper looked down at it. “I don’t know. I thought you put that here.”

“Nope.” Wendy reached over and picked it up. “Well, there’s nothing even in it except some old glitter…”

“Oh, okay… Wait, what?”

They were interrupted from their discussion by Robbie, who had followed them around to the back of them van. “Woah.” He blinked, as he regarded their armor. “Is all that really necessary?”

“Oh yeah.” Dipper told him.

“Eh.” Wendy shrugged as she pulled the leather gloves and composite gauntlets over her arms. “We’ll see. But it can’t hurt, right?”

“Uh… So… Look…” Robbie shrugged, and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “Like… You know that I wasn’t a chicken the last time you guys went out there. I actually did want to come.”

“I know.” Wendy hiked up her leggings, and tightened the belt. “But you were wearing flip-flops.”

“Well… Look. I’m wearing boots this time. And I’m still not chicken.” Robbie gestured down to his boots. “I, like… I heard what happened to your dad. I heard that this thing really hurt him. So… Like, that sucks. And I want to help. I want to do this. I do.”

Oh… Dipper realized. That third backpack must be his. He was planning to come along the whole time… What did Wendy have to say about this? He looked over at her.

Wendy lowered the shoulder pads into place, and cinched the straps up around her waist. She glanced sideways at Robbie. “You really want to risk life, limb, and skin out in a deep, dark forest where the leaves are literally thousands of knives?”

“Is that what this is?” One of Robbie’s eyes was completely obscured by his hair, but the other one got really wide. “Like, what kind of knives? Do they slash or just stab?”

“Umm… Yes.”

“Woah…” Robbie blinked. “That’s… Like… Hardcore.”

“And it’s what we’re dealing with.” Dipper told him. “Hence the utterly necessary armor.”

“Yeah.” Wendy threw the chainsaw chaps across her back, and buckled the legs around her wrists. “I mean… You can come if you want, but…”

“UH…?” Dipper looked up at her, wondering if she really meant that. Robbie was useless, right?

“Oh yeah? Hey, look!” Robbie slipped back toward the front of the van, and came back in a minute covered head-to-toe in ultra-edgy, ultra-gothic black leather. He was also holding his mom’s sawed-off shotgun. “I got this!” He told them.

Dipper snorted. “You look like a… Like… I don’t know, like Catwoman or something.”

“HEY!” Robbie snarled. “At least I don’t look like some junior-high flag-football-dropout superhero-wannabe!”

“Is that what this is?” Wendy tied her hair back to make way for the helmet. “I always fancied we were more of… Post-apocalyptic rhino-hunters.”

“Well… I mean… You look fine, Wendy, but this guy’s helmet is bigger than his torso!”

“You know what?” Dipper snapped. “Fine! I look ridiculous! I’ll admit it! But at least I AM going out there prepared. You just got all your stuff just now, and shotguns don’t even work on these things!”

Robbie turned toward him, and frowned. “You’ve got some MOUTH, don’t ya, ya snobby little pipsqueak?”

“Woah, dude.” Wendy was about to put on her helmet, but instead she set it down and put up her hands to ward off a potential fight. “Back off…”

“You know what? You think you’re so much better than me!” Robbie stepped past Wendy and shoved a finger in Dipper’s face. “You always have, and now it looks like you always will! Dipper’s the smartest! Dipper’s the bravest! Dipper’s the hero! Dipper’s the manliest little snot-nosed 12-year-old brat on the face of this whole stupid Earth! You think you’ve got it all together huh?”

“I’ve never said that or thought that!” Dipper took a step forward, and didn’t flinch even a little. “All I’m saying is that we can’t use you if you’re not prepared! You didn’t even pack anything in your backpack!”

“Dudes!” Wendy repeated. “Chill!”

“You just want to kiss me off again? Treat me like pointless trash, just like you always do?” Robbie said.

“Wouldn’t you, in my place? What AM I supposed to do with you?!?” Dipper lost his temper. “Robbie, the ONLY halfway-competent thing I’ve EVER seen you do is hypnotize Wendy!”

There was silence for a good minute.

Dipper thought through what he’d just said. He wished he hadn’t said it, but too late now. He closed his eyes, bit his lower lip, and balled his fists. Why can’t I ever just shut up?

Robbie took a step back, and his eyes fell to the ground.

Wendy didn’t say a word. She just donned her helmet, and turned away.

Robbie and Dipper looked at each other.

“Well.” Robbie finally grumbled. “I guess the winners write the history books, huh?” And then he turned away, went back around to the front of his van, and climbed in. The engine sputtered a few times before rolling over, and then the vehicle lurched to life, turned around on the narrow road, and started back down the hill.

Dipper and Wendy hiked in silence.

“Sorry.” Dipper finally said.

The word wasn’t half out of his mouth before Wendy interrupted him. “Dude. That’s what you say every single time that whole hypnosis thing comes up. You always just start apologizing! Well look, I forgave you! See? I’ll do it again: I forgive you. Just like the last, like, four times. So ease up already, okay?”

“Oh… Okay…”

“Only one thing: I forgave Robbie too. So don’t go dragging him back into this. We’ve all moved on. We’re all sorry. And nobody’s more sorry than him. Nobody wants to move on more than him.”

“Yeah… I guess… Sorry.”

“Yeah, I heard you the fifth time.”

“Sorry.”

“Sixth.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. I get it, I just… Yeah.”

“And look.” Wendy said. “Don’t get hung up on this sort of stuff, man. You’re sweating bullets over the distant past, when all you really need to do is chill out, calm down, and stick to what’s important.”

“But… Aren’t my friends… My relationships… You? Important too? Like, I mean… I’m just… I don’t know, I was a jerk to Robbie wasn’t I? I should apologize to him, huh?”

“Look dude, that’s none of my business. But you know what is my business?”

“What?”

“The one thing we’re both good at, dude. The mission. Tell me: how close are we to the metal forest?”

Dipper nodded. “Yeah.” He reached up underneath the armor’s chestpiece, where he’d put his map before setting out today.

It wasn’t there.

“Uh…” He checked his back pocket, his front pocket, and all the other little chinks in the armor. He could’ve sworn he left it in here somewhere… “Uh…” He repeated. “We should be pretty close… I guess… I mean, I must’ve forgot my map but we should know when we get there, right?”

“It’s kind of hard to tell, but if you pick individual trees and look real close…” Wendy picked up a rock, and pitched it at the trunk of a tree up ahead. The impact made a loud metallic ‘BONG’ sound. “You can tell them apart.”

“Huh.” Dipper squinted around at some of the other trees, and saw that they were standing right at the end of the organic forest. Past here, there was a few hundred feet of mingled growth, and then the full-metal started in quickly. “We should, like… Paint a line or something.” He suggested.

“Yeah…” Wendy pulled out a rattle can of paint, and drew a long red stripe on the side of the nearest tree. Then she dabbed her finger in some of the excess paint, and wrote the words ‘DANGER, KILLER ROBOTS BEYOND THIS POINT’ above the line. “There we go… Ooh, wait. In case anybody’s coming the other direction…” She swung around to the other side of the tree, and wrote ‘YOU MADE IT OUT ALIVE. YOU DA BOSS’.

“Great.” Dipper nodded. “Now… Ugh, oh man… I forgot my map. How we gonna find the coordinates?”

“We’ll just find it with our razor-sharp senses, willy intellects, and cunning instincts.” Wendy promised, with utter confidence.

“Uh… Does that work?” Dipper frowned.

“HECK no.” Wendy pulled out her own map. “We’ll just use mine. Where’d you say it was?” She pointed to a point on the map. “Here?”

“Yep… So… That way.” He pointed to the South-East.

“That way.” She confirmed, and started into the trees.

And so they continued. They passed through the forest’s outer regions, where the trees were further apart and the air was clear. They reached a small creek; the same on from their first visit. But this time they didn’t follow it; they crossed straight through, and continued on without stopping. Their destination lay beyond.

A few minutes later, the forest grew thicker and became immersive; the air smelled like iron filings and odd chemicals, normal moss and grass had disappeared entirely, and the clicking and buzzing of wildlife replaced the ordinary birds. Indeed, the whole world seemed ever-so-slightly colder and greyer. This place was alien in every way.

Their armor really started to prove itself. Their ears began to fill with clattering, scraping and tapping, as the razor-sharp branches and leaves assailed them and bounced off. Blow after blow was warded off by the armor plates, and more and more nicks and dings and scratches and abrasions appeared in the surface. But each mar was only surface deep; none of the blades were getting more than a few millimeters into the plastic, as their branches simply weren’t stiff enough to push them deeper.

Working wonderfully.

But this constant barrage wasn’t the hardest part of the journey. The ground beneath their feet was becoming… Strange. It wasn’t a flat surface anymore, or even what passed for ‘flat’ in normal forests. This was uneven; rough; chaotic. Every available surface was either a root, a branch, or some ancient deadfall. The heaping masses of living and dead metal rose and fell in miniature hills and valleys below them, entwining with itself, and hiding all else, even the dirt and the rocks. The ecosystem had consumed the very landscape.

There came to a point where a thicket of trees and bushes formed a sort of short cliff, and the only way to walk through was to climb a few feet up a tree, do some tricky footwork across the bows, and descend the other side. Wendy climbed up ahead of Dipper, wrapped an arm around a higher branch, and extended her other down to him. They gripped each other’s wrists, and she hauled him up beside her.

“Ugh.” Dipper said. “Why’s everything getting so… Like… I mean, where’s the ground?”

“If I had to guess…” Wendy looked around. “I’d say the actual ground is about 5 or 10 feet below the roots and logs we’re walking on. But just, like… When the old trees topple over, new trees use their remains for food, and grow right in the same place. And then those new trees-on-trees fall over too, and more grow on top of them, yadda yadda, right? …So over the years…” She steadied herself against the trunk, and jumped across a short gap. “It just stacks on top of itself.”

“Uh… That makes sense…” Dipper made the same jump right behind her, and would have lost his balance if she hadn’t caught him. “Why don’t normal forests do that, then?”

Wendy shrugged. “Normal forests do that too. Especially the old-growth forests, where my dad takes us hiking… That’s how I know.”

“Yeah, but… So why is this place such a tangled, deep mess? Normal forests are usually pretty flat.”

“I dunno… It’s probably because there’s no forest fires around here. In normal forests, a big ‘ol fire washes through about every 50 years, and cleans up all the deadfalls.”

“Huh… Yeah… And it might be because rain and water doesn’t dissolve or wash the rotten chemicals away.” Dipper theorized. “Everything is… Everything’s all solid. Normal life is based on liquid water, so things kind of… Rot away easier. But here, it’s all frozen in place. Static.”

“Ooh, that’s a good theory.”

Wendy reached a place where they could descend out of the tree, and back down to the ‘ground’. So she took a jump, aiming for a patch of grass. But when she landed on it, it gave way beneath her with a loud snap and creak. She lost control of her descent, and began falling further than intended.

“Wendy!” Dipper yelped.

But she didn’t fall far; only up to her armpits.

“Agh! DANG it!” She winced, as she tried to get her elbows under her. “Ow.”

Dipper descended more carefully, ran up to her, and offered his hand. “Are you okay?!? Did… Like… Did anything stab… Uh…”

“Ugh…” She took his hand, and pulled herself out of the hole. “Oh, ow, that’s gonna leave a bruise. Take note: this is all very hard. It hurts to land on.”

“Yeah… Are you okay though?”

“Uh… Yeah. I’m fine… I’m not skewered like a pig, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Err… Yeah… Okay.”

Wendy looked back down at the hole. The grassy landing pad had been growing in a gap between two fallen logs. When she’d hit it, the impact had knocked the smaller vegetation loose, leaving a sort of tunnel. Down in the gap, they heard something alive move about, then clatter away from them, off through the ground.

“So…” Dipper frowned. “If the forest is made of a whole bunch of stacked logs, are there tunnels and gaps all through it then? Like, I’m sure this isn’t the only place where the grass is loose.”

“Yeah… It’s like… Like a ‘Super Plumber Bros.’ game.” Wendy said. “We have to hop and jump between platforms, because there’s pits and spikes and crumbly parts everywhere below you.”

“It’s kind of scarier when it’s not in a video game.” Dipper noted.

They stood staring for a minute.

“So…” Wendy said. “Are we gonna go down there, or what?”

“Uh… Well, did you see anything cool down there?”

“Uh…” She reached back into the hole, and came up holding some fat, round plants. “Nothing but some… What are these? Fruit? Mushrooms? I don’t know. But they were down there.”

“Heh. Okay.”

She shoved them in her backpack, and they continued onwards above ground. High in the treetops above them, a small herd of five-armed ‘monkeys’ glance down with curiosity. Dipper waved up in a friendly way, but the harmless little animals didn’t respond. Instead, they just went back to cutting up and eating little bits off the tree branches.

After a while, they sat down beside a log to rest for a minute. Dipper reached into his backpack and pulled out his walkie-talkie. Ford had been kind of nervous about them going in alone, so it would be good to let him know everything’s all right. Hoping the signal would reach, he pushed the radio’s button and began to speak. “Hey Ford, just calling to let you know we’re all—”

As soon as the radio signal left the device, the forest leapt to life around them, and the teens realized that they’d accidentally wandered directly into the center of a large herd of pony-sized robot creatures.

Dipper hadn’t even noticed them ahead of time. Their spiny backs and long heads were colored and textured in an identical brown/grey to the rest of the trees, and the solar panel arrays on their tails looked a lot like those of the living bushes.

Nearly perfect camouflage. Perfect for sneaking up on people and attacking.

But they didn’t attack. If anything, they seemed as confused and startled as Dipper and Wendy were. Most of them stood in place with their antennae out, scanning side to side. The others watched the scanning ones, unsure if they should be panicked or not.

Dipper could see that no attack was forthcoming, but he didn’t want to provoke them anyway, so he turned his walkie-talkie off entirely, and returned it to his backpack.

One nearby creature seemed to notice them visually. It turned toward them, and approached until it was about 10 feet away. The teens stood up slowly, ready to fight or run if it did anything aggressive. Dipper wasn’t sure if they were in danger, however. Unlike the robot lion, which was sharp and hooked all over, this creature appeared entirely unarmed. It had no saws in its mouth, just a set of clamp-like jaws. Even its feet lacked claws; the fingers were short and stubby, almost like hooves.

Dipper supposed it could try to ram them with its gigantic, long head, but other than that it appeared perfectly harmless.

“So…” Wendy said. “It’s a herbivore, or what?”

“Well, it doesn’t have saws… Yeah, I think it’s harmless.” Dipper took out a disposable camera, covered up the light to prevent startling it with a flash, and began snapping pictures.

Wendy remembered the ‘fruit’ in her backpack. “Uh… Hey big guy… You want this?” She pulled out the food, and held it out to the creature. It shied away at first, then its antennae perked up, and it took a few steps closer. “Okay.” Wendy said. “Yeah. Herbivore.”

“It’s just, like, a robot deer or something.” Dipper said, and took another picture as it got close.

Then the creature opened its mouth. There was another mouth inside its mouth, and this second system shot outward about two feet and snagged the food out of Wendy’s hand.

“AGH!” Dipper yelped.

“Woah!” Wendy jerked her hand back.

The robot held the fruit in its first set of jaws, and began to grind at it with a drill bit in its second. When it was through, it took another step toward them, as if asking for more.

“Okay…” Wendy said. “Yeah. Still a robot deer… It just…”

“It has a head that looks like a Xenomorph.” Dipper observed, and took another picture.

“Yeah.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“No.”

“Just kind of weird.”

“Yeah.”

“Kind of freaky.”

“Yeah.”

It took another step towards them. “No.” Wendy said, as the deer/xenomorph thing got closer. “NO. Nothing more. No more fruit or stuff. Go away.”

It extended its second mouth again, and turned to Dipper. Okay. He thought, suddenly nervous. Its head is 4 feet long. That means its mouth can pop out 4 feet. Which means it can probably reach me from here… And it can definitely reach my…

The mouth shot out again, aiming for Dipper’s camera. He jerked it out of the way as fast as he could, and the deer’s drills did nothing but nick the chest of his armor.

“Hey.” Wendy stepped forward. “Shoo. Come on dude, shoo. Shoo. No more food. Take your weird long drill head, and take it way out of here. Go on, git.” She put a hand on top of its head, and pushed it away. It shook her hand off, and took another step inward.

“HEY!” Wendy yelled at it. “SHOO!”

It didn’t have ears, so the yelling was slightly less than effective.

“Yo.” Dipper brought his gauntlet down on top of its head. Not quite a punch, but almost. “Shoo!”

Its body was very hard and tough, so a measly half-punch wasn’t all that effective either. It turned toward him.

“Okay, look stupid thing.” Wendy said. “I’m like, up to here with your crap right now. Why don’t you…”

Just then, her words were cut off by a sudden noise, coming from the North; a clattering, and banging. The robot deer froze, extended its antennae all the way, and looked off in that same direction. All the other deer in the forest did similar.

The noise changed to a grinding, abrasive noise; the sound of saws.

All the deer tucked their long heads down close to their bodies, fanned out their solar panels like warning flags, and sprinted off through the trees to the south. In a matter of seconds, they were gone, and all that remained was some flattened grass, and some pictures on the camera.

Dipper and Wendy turned toward the sound of the noise, and crouched down behind a tree trunk. “You think that’s…?”

Wendy nodded. “Dude, I bet it IS! Let’s go see!”

They carefully began to crawl their way through the trees, staying behind logs and bushes whenever possible.

The finally stopped about 30 feet from the sound, and made themselves as hidden as possible.

“Magnet guns.” Wendy told him.

They both drew their weapons. (Not to use, just to have.) Dipper drew his camera as well.

And then they peaked over.

A deer robot lay on the forest floor, mangled and broken. Two full-grown lion-bots stood over it, digging into its torso with their massive saws. Sparks, debris, metal shavings, and bits of oil flew all over the place, as the deer’s motors, batteries, and functional parts slowly but surely disappeared into its killers.

The lions were pleasantly ignoring the humans for the moment, so they got comfortable and kept watching. Dipper lined up his camera, and began snapping pictures, while Wendy took a good look at the creatures themselves.

One was Juan’s mom. It had the damage that her dad had given it in the fight, as well as the ‘mom parts’ that Mabel had first pointed out.

The other was ‘male’, judging by the lack of these same parts. The male was slightly bigger, with a slightly shorter torso, longer antennae, and lighter coloring.

But curiously, although they’d never even seen this male before, it still had some damage; damage they didn’t give it. The plating on its right side was dented and twisted by a big, burned crater, partially exposing the hydraulics beneath. As if somebody had hit him with a grenade or a flamethrower or a… Laser blaster or something.

“Hey.” Wendy whispered.

“What?” Dipper looked over at her.

Wendy pointed to the blast mark, and shrugged. “Eh?”

“Uh…” Dipper frowned at it, and then shrugged. “Maybe there’s creatures out here with built-in ray guns?”

“…We should look out for that.”

“Yeah.”

And then Dipper’s phone rang.

Ford nervously drummed the six fingers of his hand against the table, while he waited for his great-nephew to pick up. What’s taking so long? Dipper’s usually pretty punctual about answering…

“Hey!” Stan called from the next room. “Did you ask Dipper yet?”

“Trying now!” Ford covered up the speaker and hollered back. “Just calm down Stan; it’s probably no big deal…”

“But it could be a big deal!” Stan reminded him. “You need to get a hold of him!”

“But he’s not picking up! He’s—”

Ford suddenly remembered just where Dipper was: an alien forest where the dangerous creatures heard and smelled through radio and electrical signals. Wait a minute, why is his phone even on at all? Ford wondered. If Dipper had any sense at all, he would have shut it off entirely. If anybody called him, the signals it shared with the cell tower could give away his position… Oh well. He must have just forgotten.

WAIT A MINUTE! Ford frowned as a new thought entered his mind. I just called him! Oh dear… I might have actually have put him danger, just by doing that… Oh my…

Ford was about to hang up, when suddenly Dipper’s voice sounded over the speaker. “HEYGREATUNCLEFORD THISREALLYISNTHEBESTTIME COULDICALLYOUBACK?”

“Dipper! I’m glad you’re all right! Listen, this is fairly imp—”

“NOTTHEBESTTIME!” Dipper repeated. “WENDY! HIDE DOWN THERE! I’LL FOLLOW YOU! GO GO GO!”

He heard the sound of a magnet gun discharge over the line. And in the background, was that the sound of saws?

“I’ll make it fast!” Ford promised. “Dipper, have you—”

Dipper hung up.

“Have you seen…” Ford looked at the phone for a second. He really had just hung up. He must actually have been in trouble… Ford closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. In the parlor’s new silence, he finished his sentence quietly to himself. “…Have you seen Mabel…”

A few hours earlier, Robbie’s head bounced side to side as his van rolled its bumpy way back down the roads, leaving Dipper and Wendy at the end of the trail at the top.

As he drove, a great many dark and edgy thoughts were going through his mind. Dipper is such a jerk… I could beat him in a fight… I wish I had… He just cheated… Wendy and I could have made it work… I didn’t mean to hypnotize her… Well, kind of… Well I only half meant to… Has Wendy ever forgiven me…? And what’s with those two now? They’re doing all this stuff together alone, and Dipper got rid of me today just because I’m intruding on their ‘alone time’... If they didn’t mean for me to come along, why would they throw in a 3rd empty backpack?

Wait a minute, they said it wasn’t theirs… Who packed it then? And why would they pack nothing but some glitter?

“Hold on.” Robbie mumbled, as he glanced over his shoulder.

To his surprise, he didn’t see the back of his van. He saw a young girl’s face, about 2 inches from his.

“HELLO!” She announced, more than loud enough.

“Ah geez there’s a kid in here!!” The van almost crashed into a tree as he stomped into the brake pedal. When the vehicle was safely back under control and stationary, he turned back to address his stowaway. “What the heck? Why are you here?!?” He asked. His brain worked through this new development. “You stowed yourself away in a backpack…? Wait, that doesn’t even make any sense! How did you load it into the van while you were still inside it?” He demanded.

What’s her name again? He racked his brain. I don’t quite remember, she’s just kind of the ‘Girly Dipper’ that set me up for a date one time… Well, I hate Dipper but I like girls, so… I don’t know…

“Oh, pshaw! You crack me up sometimes!” Girly Dipper rolled her eyes upwards as she leaned one cheek into her elbow with a mysterious grin. “Sneaking myself past the closed and locked doors from inside a backpack… That was the easy part! The hard part was fitting a pig in there too!” She produced a full-grown pig, which promptly emitted a loud snort.

“AGH! PIG IN MY VAN!” Robbie tried to stand up, and bumped his hair on the ceiling.

“And if you’re wondering how I did that… Well.” Girl Dipper smiled again. “You should really check out my YouTube video: ‘Mabel’s Guide to Showing Up in unexpected times and Places’.”

“Uh…”

“Yeah! It’s super informative! And a masterpiece, if I do say so myself. A true classic.”

“Okay…” Robbie sat back down hesitantly.

“So… Riddle me this, my gnarly old friend.” She abruptly changed the subject. “I guess Dipper and Wendy don’t want you going on their thing, huh?”

“Uhh…” Robbie squirmed rebelliously. “I didn’t even… Like… Wanna go on their stupid thing anyway. If I wanted to roll around in knives all day I would’ve just ransacked my dad’s morgue…”

“Well… If you don’t want to do that, how would you feel about helping me collect stuff?” She reached into her sweater and pulled out a map, scrawled all over Dipper’s handwriting. “Not as much danger, but the work is more important. And we’ll make lots of new robot friends!”

“Huh?”

“See, sometimes I don’t think Dipper trusts me.” The girl admitted with a shrug. “Maybe he’s right not to… Sometimes. ‘Cause we all do silly stuff that’s not very smart… But… But this time, I think he’s wrong. ‘Cause see, he wants to, like, kill the robot creatures and stuff like that… And I don’t think that’s really all super ethical or whatever. So I… I have another mission. A happier, funner mission… So what do you say, Mr. Buddy-Pal-Chum-Friend-Pal?” She gave him a gentle little punch on the shoulder. “Would you consider being my dark, edgy chauffeur/bodyguard for a day?”

“Uh…” Robbie frowned. “Uh… I guess…?”

“Awesome!” She squealed.

“SQUEE!” The pig squealed.

The girl then reached over Robbie’s shoulder, and put the van in ‘park’. “Let’s go do this thing!!”

#The Forest Of Daggers #Gravity Falls #wendy corduroy #dipper pines #shapeshifter #see you next summer #wendip #wendipweek #wendy x dipper #fanfiction #fanart #scifi #alien #robot #ghost

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