those howlings

love, he says, is not real.
he’s said it again: with his nails digging in my collarbone,
those flighty night-howls always drowning
his voice. 

but it’s still shaky: i think he’s like a faulty
clockwork that won’t admit it’s
malformed / breath trembling when he
says it yet his greedy fingers want more to
grasp upon. define pressure point for me,
& I’ll tell you what’s his.


love is not real, he says when all lights are
out, hips moving carelessly.
( when i say I love you, he never laughs,
but 
his lips tremble & he whispers, don’t do
this to me )

—  Demi Ev./ pressure point
missouri gothic
  • your out-of-state friends laugh when you tell them you live in misery. you laugh too. you have to laugh. it’s a joke. only a joke. you wish you could make them stay away. they laugh it off.
  • “you haven’t been to the city museum?” you ask a friend. “you have to have been to the city museum!” have you been to the city museum? you can’t remember. maybe you went there on a class trip. you must have been. everyone has been to the city museum. everyone. you suddenly remember that your friend is still waiting for you inside the whale.
  • the tv screen goes white. oh no. oh no. black text begins to scroll across the screen. you feel sick. “accept jesus into your heart”, the man says. his voice is familiar. you’ve heard it so many times. who is he? who is he? he runs the church not far from here. but who is he? you’ve seen his face, but you can’t picture it. the black text is running on a loop now, you’re sure of it. “accept jesus. accept god. jesus loves you. jesus loves you. we love you.”
  • everyone has a ghost story. but everyone swears that ghosts don’t exist. which is it? missouri is a ghost story. all our houses are haunted. by the dead, and by those on their way.
  • you just want chick-fil-a. everyone wants chick-fil-a. but it’s sunday. wasn’t it sunday yesterday? you swear it was. but isn’t tomorrow sunday? chick-fil-a is closed on sundays. it’s always closed.
  • you’ve passed 9 churches now. or was it 10? you can’t remember. you don’t want to. everyone is at church. dead eyes stare at you from the windows. 
  • the past week has been nothing but thunderstorms. thunderstorms and tornados. it’s okay. no one you knew was in the path of the tornado. no one ever knows anyone in the path of the tornado. and you love thunderstorms. you love them. you say this through a tight-lipped smile.
  • you will never leave this place. you want to. but no one ever leaves. do they?
  • there are coyotes everywhere. you know this. that’s what they say. those strange howls at night. the missing pets. it’s the coyotes. it has to be.
  • you receive a letter. its address reads “st. louis”. no, that can’t be right. you don’t live in st. louis. you look closer. your zip code is there. but you don’t live in st. louis. you’ve never lived in st. louis. you feel afraid.
  • there are hawks. on every fence post, on every telephone pole, every road sign. they mean nothing, you tell yourself. they’re only hawks.
  • you love going to st. louis bread company. it confuses your out-of-state friends. “do you mean panera?” they ask. no. you don’t. you mean st. louis bread company. they’re different. they have to be.
  • a tornado is coming. you could be in its path. no one would know you. you go to the store. it’s fully stocked- except for bread, milk, and eggs. there is no more bread. there are no more eggs. there is no more milk. why? why is that all we take? what do we subconsciously know is in those three foods that will save us?
  • “what high school did you go to?” that’s the question they always ask. why? you try to remember. you can’t. did you go to high school with them? yes. yes, you must have. didn’t you? you can’t even remember being a teenager.
  • billboards seem to be everywhere. you don’t even recognize what they’re selling anymore. they blend together. 
  • you’ve only been to the arch once. so has everyone you know. you go there once, and then never again. you don’t remember how you got to the top. you hate elevators. you always have. 
  • you look up at the shadow in the sky. your stomach drops. that’s not a shadow. it’s a massive cloud of black birds. they seem to be swarming directly above you. you can’t stop staring. every part of you goes numb. you think you hear someone screaming. is it you?
We Hunt The Hunter Part 1

Hello everyone! Welcome to another one of the stories, bringing back some characters, Sasha and Breka. This story was inspiried by user @quiksilvear and their requested prompt of human persistence hunting. Without further ado, lets continue! 
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The crew laid sprawled out around the ship that had landed in the middle of no where. The amphibious crew took stock of the situation, some handling the injured and the shell-shocked. However among them stood one who was bandaging her gut from a bad gash. Standing by her side was the terrifying Vin’lek known as Breka, and Sasha patted her head before looking back. The crew were soldiers, but they weren’t equipped nor prepared to survive this kind of emergency landing. “Well A’rav,” Sasha said before whistling to get his attention. Her  bionic limbs had been restored to a much greater condition, and she smiled as she caught the attention of her friend Captain A’rav. “Looks like most of our supplies got torched. How soon can we expect rescue?” 

Her companion looked down at a dead crew member, covered his face and sighed, “This planet is on the fringes of our patrol route. It may be a few days before we can build a beacon from scrap. After that it could be as long as a week before anyone finds us.” 

“A week?!” Another crew member shouted before holding her broken arm and gasping in pain. The crew began to look around with worry. 

“We have enough supplies for maybe three rotations! We won’t have enough to wait that long even if we ration it heavily!” Another crew member shouted. 

A’rav looked at Sasha and sighed, “They’re right,” he muttered. A’rav stood up, swallowing a lump in his throat and raising his hands, “Men and Women of the S.S. Grep’klek please, I know the situation is grim, but we’ll find a solution in order to keep everyone fed and-”

“We don’t have enough food! How are we going to keep people from starving?!” Another crew member shouted. 

A’rav swallowed again. The books demanded Officers be kept alive and given necessary supplies, though how that would work with such a green crew was not a good thought to say the least. “We … We will,” he swallowed. 

A’rav felt a hand lay on his shoulder and looked to see Sasha with some kind of black straw like substance hanging from her lips. “Are you crazy?!” A crew member in white robes stammered and burst forward from the crowd. “I said not to touch those weeds! They are doused with toxins!” 

“Toxic to y’all, Huuga’s don’t like this stuff but humans drink it quite often. It’s a pretty good pick me up,” she chewed a bit and patted Breka’s head. The beast seemed to grin, causing more than a few of the crew to back up in fear. “Caffeine is a good thing for us. Besides, we’re gonna do some good old fashioned hunt’en to survive this here mess.” Sasha stepped in front of A’rav. “So, who here among y’all know how to hunt? Not with your plasma blasters you’ll just melt the meat, but anyone here fire a bow?” She looked around. No hands, in fact some confused faces made her feel a bit more uneasy. “Right … Spears?” She questioned. “Anyone?” No response. “A’rav … I … I’m starting to think I know why pirates are such a problem in your area.” 

“My men can fight, Sasha,” A’rav shook his head. 

“Oh I’ve seen that, but I don’t think they can survive.” Sasha sighed. “Now ain’t this gonna be a pain.”

“Well excuse us for not being versed in primitive weapons of human design!” An injured crew member growled. 

“They’re in the manual for basic survival of all species within the Coalition, and you know why?” She turned to him with the same tired look as usual, chewing on the plant a bit more. “Because we humans are good at a lot of things. But the one thing we’re good at, is killing things bigger and scarier than us.” She grabbed a nearby stick and then reached into her boot. “Come on now,” she tugged and pulled out a large knife. “There ya are,” she smiled. 

“What are you doing?” Some of the crew had begun to gather as one of the injured from earlier inquired. 

Sasha sat down on the ground and began to carve, “Well I’m making a spear. We’re gonna be stuck here a bit and ain’t got much food. Now off in the woods there’s something made of meat if those growls and howls mean anything,” she spit out the weed and plucked another one from near her, chewing on it again. “So I’m gonna go hunting.” 

“Those howls come from a Tan-nanga!” One of the more veteran looking crew members growled. “No one can match their ferocity, not even your Vin’lek pet!” 

Breka growled, causing the man to take a near unseen step back. Sasha smiled, “Sounds like fun. A good ol’ rustle an tustle. What’s your name Mister?” Sasha looked up as she picked up some metal debris, and started showing it into the wooden stick to make a crude spear. 

“Malo, Malo Wendga,” The Veteran proclaimed proudly. “I have killed many enemies for the defense of my people. I have studied the beasts around our star system. These are some of the most dangerous I speak of!” he growled, “You have no knowledge of what you face, you are a blind fool if you think to fight one!” 

“That’s true,” Sasha nodded as she listened intently. “I would be one hell of a fool to fight one. But that’s because I’m not going to fight one.” She stood up and tapped her home made spear on the ground, twirling it a bit and then thrusting forward, causing some of the crowd to recoil. “I’m going to hunt it.” She stood up straight and twirled the spear a little more. “My ancestors, back before we had even discovered how to speak properly, hunted together with animals native to our home. These animals, the dog, were once creatures called wolves. They were our mortal enemy, but through sheer determination we domesticated them, because they’re the only animal that could keep up with our hunting.” 

“What? What nonsense is this?” The Veteran Malo folded his arms. 

“Many historical texts define hunting as overpowering your opponent, most ancestors of the galaxies species were prey, or predators that hunted in quick bursts, or like your kind remained still. For us, we outsmarted our prey.” She saw the crowd beginning to gather once again. She had them, and would now give them the moral they needed. “Traps, tracking, and not running but walking towards our prey got them. The prey would run, and we would merely follow. When they attack we lead them a place we can win, using our companions,” she pet Breka’s head lovingly, “And working together to bring them down.” 

“That is pure fantasy, I have never heard of any of that!” Malo scoffed. 

“Didn’t know you were a human expert?” Sasha laughed softly as Malo remained quite, clearly corned on that account. “At any rate, Breka and I will be back in roughly two days. Mostly to track some extra resources. Prey herds, water, any fruits and what not. I’ll be borrowing one of your scanners,” she began walking as she talked, and upon mentioning the scanner she plucked it out of the hands of one of the crew. “Thank you,” she clasped his shoulder for a moment and continued, “Be back soon A’rav, try not to starve while I’m gone,” she waved and then continued on towards the dense glowing woods that surrounded the ship. 

“She’s going to die,” Malo snorted. 

The rest of the crew were losing hope after she left, realizing that Malo may be right. “No,” A’rav smiled, “I know Sasha. She’s my friend, and she’s not going to die till she gets her hand on her main prey.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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HEY YOU! How’s it going? It was a pleasure to work on this arch of the short stories I’m doing to pass time during my last year of university. Once again don’t forget, if you have any prompts you want me to work on just send me them, tag me in them, anything at all! I will put them in the que if I like em! All my stories are connected so never fear, old characters will always come back! Until next time, Fly safe fellow Explorer’s of the unknown.

anonymous asked:

1/3 I saw this post again about someone only knowing Teen Wolf from gif sets who thought that Scott wouldn't survive the pilot and it got me thinking: What would've happened if Scott *hadn't* survived the bite? Just in season 1 alone? Would Peter've bitten anyone else (he tried half on s1 to connect with his beta but seeing his beta die would that have encouraged or discouraged him)? Would Stiles've still sided with the wolfs (he would've felt guilty for Scott & maybe looking into hunting (hint,

hint) what attacked his best friend)? Would Allison (without Scott, Kate would’ve brought her into the fold & she wouldn’t have had any evidence that wolfs *are* people)? Would Jackson’ve been tempted (no Scott, no rival Lacrosse Captain, he still would’ve been attacked in the video store but would he’ve sought out Derek)? Would Derek’ve died from wolfsbane (no Scott, no Stiles?, no bullet) or would he’ve hurt Deaton (then again no Scott, no Night School, no one howling for the alpha)? How different would season 1 (& 2 & 3 etc) have been? What are your head cannons?

Oh I love thinking about this –– one single detail changing everything that comes after it. I’m going to preface this theorizing by saying that I don’t remember all the details on s1; it’s been a long time since I watched so I might veer off in the wrong direction at any point. That said, here goes.

Scott’s turning is the trigger for a lot of the early events in the series, and his death would change pretty much everything about the characters’ dynamics, relationships, and alliances. If Scott were dying in a hospital bed after the Wolf Moon, I’ll bet that Stiles would be right by his side that day, meaning that he wouldn’t run into Derek in the woods, in search of his friend’s inhaler. That said, Scott would have an animal bite on his hip, and would probably tell Stiles that a wolf bit him as he lay dying, and that, combined with the full moon and the other animal attacks/dead bodies around town, would probably still lead Stiles toward the truth.

A werewolf bit his friend. A werewolf killed his friend.

And you can be sure that a guilty, bitter, raging Stiles would latch onto that knowledge and decide to do something about it.

Stiles probably wouldn’t run into Allison at this point. Would have no reason to connect to her, no reason to really even notice her. She’s just the new girl in school and he has a hell of a lot bigger things to think about, like his dead friend, like the supernatural threat apparently running through the preserve killing innocent teenagers.

That said, I can absolutely picture Chris Argent visiting Stiles after Scott’s death. Maybe even in the hospital. (I put Scott in the hospital and not dying at home because Melissa.) He slinks up all grim and mysterious and asks Stiles if he’d been out there in the woods too –– what he saw, whether there was anything unusual. And when Stiles snarks back –– and Stiles would inevitably snark back –– he’d probably make some vague comment about bringing the thing that killed Stiles’ friend to justice before slipping away again.

And this might even be what helps Stiles connect those final dots.

So Stiles would take to the woods. Which… maybe not the smartest plan, but something out there fucking killed Scott and Stiles isn’t in the mood for smart right now. He’s in the mood for payback. When he runs into Derek he nearly takes his head off with a baseball bat and then he’s just kind of reeling because Derek Hale, survivor of the Hale fire is randomly hanging around the preserve six years after anyone in town’s seen him.

Hanging around the preserve where Scott (and another person) were killed.

Hanging around the preserve where an actual legit werewolf might be living.

Would those dots take too long to connect?

The thing is, though, grief recognizes grief and I think that a Stiles who’d just lost Scott might not be so quick to dismiss Derek’s bad attitude as he’d been in the show. And Derek, in the state that he’s in throughout s1, would be a lot more likely to open up to someone on a vendetta of revenge and grief than a couple of kids who seem more concerned with sports and dating.

So whether it happens right then or later, it would happen –– Stiles realizing what Derek is. Lashing out or bolting. Derek catching his bat on a desperate swing, chasing him (chasing the secondhand scent of gunpowder and Argent) slamming Stiles back against a tree and and Stiles screaming “My best friend is dead” and Derek snarling back “so’s my sister.”

And then for a few seconds they’d just… stare. Recognizing that grief, that loss, that hopeless rage, in each other’s wrecked expressions. And after a long second Derek would just… fall back. Give up his hold on Stiles, let the ugly weight of the losses settle between them. And Stiles would know… not really knowing how, but he’d know, that Derek wasn’t responsible for Scott.

But would Stiles go back to Argent? Would he approach Allison then, after hearing her last name in class and connecting those dots, would he make friends to try and find out what she knows? Or would he just seek out Chris Argent and demand information, demand weapons, demand whatever the hell it takes to take down this werewolf threat or else he’ll just go public to the Sheriff with what he knows and he’s pretty sure Van Helsing here wouldn’t love that.

So Argent agrees, on these terms: he trains Stiles.

It’s a good compromise, actually. Gerard’s been pushing for the next generation to start getting brought in on the family business and Chris really just wants to keep Allison out of it. Keep her safe, keep her happy in her ignorance. Is it so wrong to want a normal life for his daughter? And Stiles isn’t an Argent, and Chris isn’t sure he’d even want this kid carrying on his family legacy, but if it slows things down, lets Allison get through high school at least without having to face down the horrors he grew up with… he’ll take it. He’ll use this boy who’s already willing to fight and die for the cause and keep his daughter safe.

(Of course, this won’t work for long. Allison’s not oblivious and she’ll notice her family’s strange behavior. Notice Stiles dropping by a strange number of times… and his sudden “internship at Argent Arms International” –– her dad’s never taken on sixteen year old interns before… or any interns –– doesn’t completely explain it. So eventually, despite her dad’s best efforts, Allison will still realize her family business.)

–Jumping off the continuity track for a bit, with Scott gone and Jackson’s place on the lacrosse team assured, he wouldn’t feel any particular need to seek out new skills, strength, or the supernatural at all. So his involvement in the main arc would only come through Lydia (through Allison) or, if you’re with me on this one, once Peter takes interest in him, recognizing him as his son.

I also (and this is where my not having watched the season in so long might come into play) don’t particularly think Peter would bite anyone else if Scott died, because I generally feel like Peter biting Scott was just a case of Scott being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He saw a kid wandering through the woods –– the moon was full, his wolf was howling, those wacky CGI deer had sprinted away, and he figured why not? Peter wasn’t really focused on building a pack in s1. He had a lot of opportunities to bite other people, to make a whole pack, and he didn’t take them. He liked the idea of Scott being his beta, and having help getting his revenge, once he already had him, but I think his priority was really just killing the people involved in the Hale arson and Scott was just a bonus. If Scott didn’t take –– or if Scott hadn’t been in the woods that night –– I don’t think Peter would have gone for anyone else.

Back onto the main plot, though, with Stiles on the hunter track, his tentative truce with Derek would become very interesting. He wouldn’t tell Argent about knowing Derek, but the next time he runs into Derek –– fucking bleeding out in the school parking lot in front of his Jeep because Stiles and that few-second bond of loss is still the only connection Derek has in this town –– I think Stiles’ secrets would come out to him. He’d mention the wolfsbane and of course Stiles knows what wolfsbane is, how it works, where to get some, and he’d leave Derek in the safety of his bedroom probably while he flits to the Argents’ and gets himself a bullet to help bring him back. He figures Kate probably thought what Stiles did at first –– a local werewolf, must be the feral Alpha –– stupid mistake but it’s not like Derek exactly gives off the warm, cuddly vibes… but once Derek’s recovered enough to realize what had happened, where Stiles had gone and how he’d gotten that bullet, what would he do? Grit teeth, clam up? Push Stiles into the nearest shadowed space and snarl that the Argents can’t be trusted, they’re killers until Stiles snorts, snaps back a blithe “Oh yeah, and what are you?”

And Derek would pull back, looking wounded for a heartbeat before walling off, and Stiles would almost want to take the words back but he’d lift his chin stubbornly instead because these guys are helping him learn to fight, ok? They’re helping him learn how to take down Scott’s killer and yeah it sucks that Derek caught a bullet but everyone’s on red alert right now and it was a fucking shitty mistake.

And Derek would hold his gaze, steady and cold, say “your father’s Sheriff Stilinski, right? Look into the Hale fire. Visit the hospital’s long term care center. See what your new friends call justice.”

And of course Stiles does. He looks into the records. He sees that everything in the police files scream arson. And he can’t connect Chris Argent and his stern code with the mentions of children’s corpses, but the more he gets to know Kate the more he can see that in her. And I think he would start to question the Argents at that point, start questioning his alliances and everything he thinks he knows.

And that’s as far as I’m going to go with this headcanon for the moment, because it’s getting incredibly long already. But I really adore this canon divergent concept, with it starting as a tragedy/revenge story and Stiles being pulled in on the hunters’ side of things at first, and I think so much could be done with it.

I was born in a garden
Surrounded by green and honey
You gave life to me as I emerged into the world
Covered in bloody earth and muddied tears
I was your flower
A rose all for you
I believed you would care for me
Rain for my dry petals
Sunlight to reach towards
Shade to protect me against the worlds raging fires
Oh how wrong I was
Foolish girl
Your sharp mouth that kissed me a million times and promised me endless dewy summers
Those thistle lips brought me
Winters only
Ice crystals to freeze over my delicate crimson body
I trusted you
But instead of breathing love in my lungs you blew in raging blizzards that nearly snapped me in two
My spine becoming wilted vines
My heart punctured with thorns
My bones plucked from the earth
You
The one who planted my seed and delivered me from your own blood
Nurtured me with nothing but cold chills more bitter than a starless midnight
Clouds too thick to see the weeping moon
You raised me from the soil up only to drive me back to the worms with your heel
But I am here to thank you
And lay my deepest gratitude at your feet
I now see that through snow I was taught
What I never could have learned through a warm breeze
I am grateful
That i was gifted strength
For without the downpour of my tears
I wouldn’t have discovered that I could water myself
If not for those howling winds
My roots would not have the depth of a lions roar
Without the cruel winter
I never would have been able to see
That what at first glance appeared to my wilted soul frozen over like
A frost covered flower
Was just an illusion
And when the snow finally grew too tired to dance in my eyes I saw
That I was never crumbling ice
But a strong
Unbreakable
Diamond rose
—  Go ahead and try to shatter me, I dare you

anonymous asked:

In some of your tags you called Howl your obnoxious trash son and I couldn't agree more

Originally posted by alex-hearts-piper

(i actually stole it from this post. also it has become my unofficial howl-tag lmao)

Ok I might not make sense while saying this but after what happened at Manchester, I just want us to pick up a symbol of rebellion. Like sing “One Last Time” or ANY song in rememberance of Florida, Paris, Christina and Manchester before the sets at any concert. Not just the ones that take place immediately after. Not just now. Let us sing before every concert as a sign of rebellion. As a sign that we won’t let a happy place be snuffed out by darkness. As a symbol for the strength of little girls and boys attending their first concert. As a sign of the resistance of our queer brothers and sisters, and their perseverance. Let it echo with the howls of those who lost their loved ones in a place meant to be a source of their happiness..let it haunt those who dare to hurt the innocent. Let it be a reminder to those who strive to break humanity..that humanity will march forward..FOREVER. Idk..just something to show that we won’t cower in fear. That we won’t stop living our lives. This might not have been the most thought out post but now I’m just desperate. Desperate for something. Anything.


Also please keep Thailand and Marawi in your prayers. And if possible please look for ways to help them.