Tag: write this

write-it-motherfuckers:

You had always loved this place when you were growing up. Your grandfathers big cabin was always surrounded by soft white snow during the winter months, and as it sat so out of the way, it was always pure and untouched. Your parents didn’t like him very much, and so you weren’t allowed to see him during the warmer months. But when it started to get cold, you parents always dumped you and your siblings with him, so that they could go on a vacation somewhere tropical.

Whilst your siblings always complained that there was nothing to do, you always adored your time there, and your grandfather. He seemed to adore you just as much, regaling you with many a strange and fanciful stories, that never failed to fill you with childish wonder. It was no surprise then, that when he passed away, he left everything to you, much to the rest of your families frustration and offence.

Standing in front of the large cabin, you smiled sadly, every breath visible in the cold air. It was nice to be back, but it didn’t make things any less sad, you still missed him a great deal, and always would. It had taken you a while to make the cabin your own, but now there wasn’t much else to do. Luckily you worked at home, so your isolated home was rather perfect. 

Glancing off to the side, you eyed the wide expanse of pristine snow, lips quirking into a smile. Another thing that you loved about your grandfathers place, was that it sat beside his own massive lake, which never failed to completely freeze over. You had always begged your grandfather to help you clean off a section of ice so that you could play on it, but it was one of the few things he would never agree to. 

“One day, when you are older” he would say, giving you that familiar soft affectionate smile and ruffling your hair.

Perking up, you went and grabbed your equipment. Now was a good a time as any, you supposed. 

For quite a while, you worked away, humming to yourself as you shifted snow and cleaned the ice as best you could. To your surprise, the ice seemed quite clear, and just as thick as your grandfather had always told you it was. It wasn’t until you had gotten out a little further, that you noticed something under the ice. 

At first you figured it must have been a fish or some kind of animal that had wandered in and drowned before the ice had fully set. Unfortunately, as you cleaned the patch of ice more thoroughly, you found something far more unsettling.

Staring up at you, were humanoid creatures, trapped below over a foot of ice, and seemingly frozen in positions of desperation, as if they had been clawing to reach the surface and had then frozen in place. Shakily, you sank down onto your knees and looked closer, tilting your head slightly to peer further along, below the thick layer. 

Dozens of the creatures were faintly visible, frozen in similar positions below the clear ice, and suddenly, your thick winter jacket wasn’t quite enough to keep the chill out anymore.

waywardwarlocks:

tips for walking in an abandoned graveyard

  • if it’s dark, don’t shine your flashlight into the trees.
  • if a child approaches and asks you a question, don’t tell the truth.
  • you may find some harrowing artifacts (i found a ribbon on a tree and some bible pages) pick these up and keep them. they belong to you.
  • if you walk down a long, straight pathway, you will feel someone behind you. don’t look
  • you may see people in your peripheral vision; these are the spirits. they won’t hurt you.
  • if you wish to communicate with the spirits, do not do it alone. cast a protection circle. only ask polite questions.
  • you will feel bursts of dread and terror. ignore them.
  • don’t read too much into what the graves say. some things are best left unsolved.
  • research the history of the graveyard beforehand. you need to know what you might encounter.
  • some beings may not want you to leave. should you come into contact with one of these beings, leave immediately.
  • don’t read the hidden graves.
  • if you find a headless angel statue, don’t look for her head.
  • if you find a tipped over angel statue, leave her be. she’s only resting.
  • don’t listen to music. this will distract you from them.
  • don’t look in the bushes. you will find something that you weren’t supposed to.

write-it-motherfuckers:

You knew something was wrong the second you woke, mainly because you had fallen off of the bed and onto the hardwood floors. Your apartment had neither of these, your own bed being a simple mattress on the floor, in a rather shitty, cold, concrete, apartment. This was almost the direct opposite.

Slowly you managed to stumble to your feet, looking around in bewilderment and fear, wondering if you had been drugged and kidnapped. You certainly felt disorientated and uncoordinated enough. It was only as you looked down at yourself, that you realised there was another reason for that. 

Shakily you stumbled over to the large mirror on the wall, taking in the strangers face and body that stared back at you. You had no idea who this person was, no idea why you were inhabiting their body. 

Needing a moment to calm down as you felt the familiar sensation of anxiety clawing up your chest and throat, you sank down onto the floor, hands absently kneading the plush rug below you, focusing on the texture of it as you tried to think. You were in a strangers home, in a strangers body, with no idea why or for how long you would be like this. Pausing for a moment, you chewed at your bottom lip. 

If you were here, in this strangers body, was the stranger in your apartment, and your body? 

Glancing around again, you frowned, wondering how they were taking it. This stranger was obviously in good health and quite well off, probably use to the finer things. How were they handling being in your position? How were you both meant to fix this? Could it be fixed?

hybridfanfiction:

Your company has recently hired a crow hybrid. Most of your coworkers were avoiding him due to crows being “bad luck.” You thought they were just being hybridist jerks and decided to welcome him by bringing him a box of treats and letting him know you’d be around to help whenever he needed it. He was so sweet and seemed so grateful that you began bringing him a coffee and saying hello every morning before going back to your office. You begin to notice little trinkets showing up at your desk. Pretty stones, candy, little origami creatures, candles. No one seemed to know where they came from. However, you catch the crow hybrid blushing whenever he looks at you and didn’t you read somewhere that crows leave presents for people they like?

corvidprompts:

“When witches get married, we tell the other our true name.” says the witch, handing the vampire a jar full of assorted small rodent bones “Marriage is a big deal- it’s dangerous to allow anyone you don’t trust wholly with your name.”

“So… how do witches divorce?” asks the vampire, struggling to hold all the bone jars at once- why do they have so many bone jars? Are bones that good of a seller?

“If it’s amicable you just agree not to be married anymore.” says the witch, smiling “If it’s not amicable, whoever curses first usually wins. There’s a reason most of us stay single”

write-it-motherfuckers:

Late at night, when everyone else has long since gone to sleep, you can hear a soft melody begin. Tonight, you decide that you can’t stand the curiosity any longer. You know you will be in deep trouble if you’re caught, but something about that music always tugs at your soul.

Carefully, you creep your way down through the building, avoiding the spots where you know the floor creaks, and keeping to the shadows as best as you can. Finally, you find yourself reaching the old sealed off section. The area beyond this, holds quite a few old practice studios and classrooms, including what was once a music room. 

No one talks about what happened here, leaving most of your generation completely in the dark. Even from here though, you can see the dark scars on the floor and ceiling, from where fire ate away at the structure. A few have asked why this section was not just rebuilt, but the answer never comes, and the punishment is usually severe.

Worrying your lip between your teeth, you carefully tug at the boards and panels as you make your way along, grinning triumphantly when you find a loose section. After quite a bit of squirming, you manage to get inside, the chill instantly biting at your skin through your thin clothes.

With a shiver, you carry on, walking carefully through the scorched halls, until you reach what was once a large music room. Inside, a faint light shines, illuminating a grand piano, and someone sitting before it. Even from here, you can tell that you have never seen them before, and carefully, you sneak in further, hiding as you listen to the beautiful music.

Something about it soothes you, and you unintentionally start relaxing, eyes closing as you hide, letting the music flow over you. Your mind continues to wander, as you stand there, wondering just who this stranger is, and why they stay in this horrible place. You would do anything to be away from your so called caretakers, and with such a beautiful skill, you’re certain this person could go anywhere they pleased.

All of a sudden, you realise that everything is silent, feeling the hairs rise up on the back of your neck. Eyes snapping open, you find the stranger standing directly in front of you, having found your hiding place with apparent ease. The darkness of the room only serves to hide their features and expression from you, casting a dark silhouette. 

A startled and frightened sound escapes you as you stumble back quickly, knowing that close contact with anyone means pain, only to trip over the debris that you had so carefully avoided when you entered, sharp pain flaring up your leg as you fall.

write-it-motherfuckers:

You could feel your heart racing as you stood there, hands shoved deep into your hoodie pocket to hide their trembling. There was something unsettling about being in the empty shopping centre at night, perhaps because you knew some of the things that would lurk in the shadows, or perhaps because it felt so alien without the overbearing lights and noisy people.

Something flickered out of the corner of your eye and you tensed straightening up as the person you had been waiting for came around the corner.

“You ready?” They asked lowly, voice and expression grim.

Unable to speak, you simply nodded. They nodded haltingly back and then quickly followed you to the spot you had set out while you were waiting, everything perfectly organised. Neither of you wanted to do this, there were too many questions that couldn’t be answered, too many risks. Still, you didn’t really have a choice.

Sharing a final look with the other, you let out a shuddering sigh, accepting the item that they had spent the day retrieving. There was only one chance for this to work, so you both stood there anxiously in your required places, hearts pounding and palms clammy.

Just when you were starting to think it had all been for naught, there was a slight flicker, followed by a brighter glow. Suddenly the whole ritual was burning brightly, and strangled gasps of pain ripped free of you both, your screams kept back by sheer force of will and desperation. 

You had their attention now, and that was all that you had needed. Even if they killed you both for your impudence in calling them, they would now be aware of what was happening thanks to the connection opened on this night. You both knew that they wouldn’t ignore it, couldn’t, without sealing their own fate as well. 

If your deaths were what was needed to stop it all before it was too late, then so be it.

write-it-motherfuckers:

It was an accident, a tiny mistake. You had only entered at your best friends behest, oblivious to what his family hid down there. One tiny bump and you had been splashed with some kind of thick purple fluid that was sitting on a shelf, alongside several other strange concoctions and items. 

Luckily you had only spilt some, and had managed to put it back upright without anyone knowing what had happened, the amount in the bottle not seeming to even change. By the time you got back upstairs with the requested items, the liquid had vanished without a trace, so you said nothing. You didn’t want to get you and your friend in trouble.

Looking at yourself now though, you find yourself torn, wondering if you should have said something. Though you had a feeling that this was not something that could be undone either way.

Flexing your hands, you stared at your now pointed, slightly claw like, nails, your mind a mess of panic and denial. The nails had been the first things to change, the first thing you ignored. Then had come the glowing eyes and shifting pupils, something that made you finally pay attention. 

After that, your hair had begun to change, growing longer and wilder, adopting a strange metallic look that couldn’t be passed off as natural by any means. Having been distracted as you focused on your hair and eyes, you hadn’t noticed the strange new markings until they formed on your cheeks as well, no amount of rubbing removing them. You were lucky no one was home.

Anxiously, you sat down on your bed, curling up into a tight little ball as you ran your tongue over your teeth, feeling them beginning to change as well. How much more would you change? What were you even becoming? Why did this somehow feel so natural?

Too overwhelmed by it all, you simply tucked your head into your pillow, trying to muffle the sharpening sounds and scents of your room and the world outside as you cried. It was all too much.