Light A Candle Or Curse The Darkness
Light a Candle or Curse the Darkness
In the end, what would be your choice? The summer tour of 2005 does not go as planned.
Hey, it's the end of the as we know it and I feel fine.
Part Two
When does a dream become reality?
Or, when does reality become a dream?
Could you decide what would be that one defining moment in time?
I know I cannot.
There were just too many of them.
I still, to this day, cannot decide when this all became ‘real’. Was it when we first caught sight of the invaders? Those that had claimed to have been abducted had it all wrong for what had stepped out into the clearing on that warm summer night was nothing that one would think a space alien to be. Nowhere to be seen was the classic space creature, with its large eyes, short, gray-skinned bodies, and three-fingered hands. These creatures were something different altogether. Tall, human in appearance with eyes the color of a storm-tossed sea; their orangish-green skin shimmered faintly in the pale moonlight, casting an iridescent glow about them.
Beautiful.
Ethereal.
Dangerous.
Deadly.
Murderous.
Conquerors.
Destroyers.
I could continue like this forever, but they are just details that everyone should be familiar with by now. If not, lucky you.
Still, that was not the ‘real’ moment for me. Nor was the moment when our small group was sent arse over elbow trying to get out of the way of their idea of crowd control. There had been thirteen of us that had set off from that highway looking for help. Five Durans and Shelly, a young nursing student from the Midwest, were all that entered their ship. Watching the person next to you be vaporized, as in nothing left, not even the clothes they were wearing vaporized, is enough to make one think about how much they want to live. I know I still did at that point. Odd how time changes all things, is it not?
I won’t waste time telling of the journey to our new “home”. It was uneventful, and we spent the better part of it huddled in holding cells with several hundred other miserable souls. Voices in the dark whispered…wondering…questioning...praying.
“Airplanes falling out of the damn sky…”
“The Lord is my Shepard…”
“Have you seen Saul, my husband?”
“Where are they taking us?”
“…he leadeth me beside the still waters…”
“Did you hear what happened to the cities?”
“Who are they? Where did they come from?”
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…”
“…the Armies have been destroyed.”
“…no one left…”
“I will fear no evil: for thou art with me…”
“No food or water for two days. For two days!”
“I want my mommy!”
“…space aliens!”
“…I will dwell in the house of the…”
“Wiped clean off the damn map…”
“Fuck, I need a smoke.”
From time to time, I have wondered what had happened to Shelly. She was separated from us not long after our arrival to the place that we would acrimoniously learn to call home and hearth.
Where were we? By the best guess of persons far smarter than I, it was decided that we had been relocated somewhere along the Pacific coast, probably close to the Canadian border. There were thousands of people in this camp. The invaders must have cleared out every small town and city they came across. Lord only knows how many more of these camps there are, or rather were. I fear that what has been happening here is only a reflection of what is happening elsewhere. Even as I sit here, writing, I can hear the screams and heavy rifle fire echo throughout the camp. And the whispered pleas for a savior. Strange, is it not, how people put their beliefs in a higher power? Stranger still, is the fact that these people go to their deaths, believing their prayers do not fall upon deaf ears. God did not help us when they came and I sure in the Hell don’t think he’ll help us now. This is one path I refuse, even now, to go down. I lost whatever faith I had a long time ago.
I figure by either tomorrow or later this evening they will be at my part of the camp, and that will be that. So sorry if this is a little rushed but Death is riding on the wind, and I think he is coming for me. Before I stick my spoon in the wall and roll over, I must tell what happened to my brothers. Brothers of my heart, even if not by blood. They lived, they had a life, and they deserve to have their deaths told, however poorly I might recount it.
~~
Nick. Nick was the first of us to go and we lost him almost right from the beginning. Of all things, he died from an allergic reaction to whatever they used to ink the barcodes. The process itself was not that bad. You held your arm out, they ran a scanner over it, a slight tingling feeling, and before you can say ‘Bob’s your uncle’, you are the proud owner of a new tattoo. In less than 24 hours after receiving his, Nick was dead. It started with an irresistible urge to scratch. We nearly went crazy trying to prevent him from digging his arm off. Soon, two large red streaks had snaked up his arm and across his chest and neck. John spent all night by his side, mopping Nick’s feverish brow. When the seizures started, we knew that the end must be near. In the early pre-dawn hours, Nick drew his last ragged breath and without a word, was gone. He was not the only one. There were hundreds upon hundreds who died in this camp from the allergic reaction. I don’t think our captors really gave a flyin’ fuck about it either.
Out of all of us, Nick’s death hit John the hardest. Beautiful, fragile John. During the early years it was still easy to procure things of, let’s say, of a questionable nature. Almost six months to a day after Nick’s death we found John overdosed on whatever it was he took. I guess Rehab didn’t cover a hostile invasion by space aliens, did it Johnny? The bastard. He took the easy way out. I never have gotten around to forgiving him for that.
It was not too long after that, that Andy found a small girl wandering through our part of the camp; she couldn’t have been more than three, if not younger. All Andy was able to get out of her was her name and that she couldn’t find her parents. Andy searched and searched for the girl’s parents, but they were nowhere to be found and no one would step up to care for her. He took little Laura as his and decided that he would care for her. When pressed for an answer as to why, all he would say was, “I can only hope that someone would look to my children if the need be. You have children of your own. Wouldn’t you want someone to look after them?”
I never would answer that question. I only hope my children did not have to live through this.
Time passed, seasons changed and each year the winters were getting harder and harder to survive. Lack of food, proper clothing, and poor living conditions was getting to everyone. Each winter, little Laura would come down sick, and each year it became harder and harder for her to shake it. And she was not the only one.
Andy and several other parents formed a committee and took it upon themselves to visit the camp Commander to request aid for the children. Surprisingly enough, they were thanked for their trouble and told that the Commander would investigate it and were sent on their way. By noon the next day, there was not any child under the age of fourteen left in the camp. The younger children were killed outright, while the older ones were transported from the camp. I don’t know where they were taken. Some say they were sent to other camps and still, others think they were taken off the planet altogether. Laura was only seven when they killed her. Perhaps it was for the best.
The committee members lived long enough to see the havoc they wreaked. Their heads, along with Andy’s, adorned pikes, lined the road to the Commander’s office for a very long time. I think that day was the day that the fight to continue living fled this place. So many families were destroyed on that dark day. So many hopes for the future were crushed.
That was four years ago, scary how time flies when you are being repressed.
Simon? I don’t know where he has gone off to. Despite the dangers of the camp purge, he went for a walk yesterday and has yet to return. I fear he may have been caught in the cleansing. Or he may be holed up somewhere, safe for the time being. Who knows?
~~
There. That is their story. Not much, is it? But it is all I have for you.
Why do I write this? I don’t really know. I have a sinking feeling there will not be anyone left to read this after I am gone. Maybe I write these words to prove that I was. That I existed. That I was here. My only regret, well two regrets, is the fact that I could not see my children and family one last time. And Emma, my beautiful dark-eyed girl, that I had taken for my wife only a few months before it all went to Hell. I really should stop rambling. Damn. Old age must be sitting in early. I have things to do before my time is up.
One last thing before I go:
I had once read that you can either light a candle or curse the darkness.
My candle burned out a long time ago.
I am not going without a fight.
I have made my decision.
I will curse the darkness with my last breath.
I am meeting with others from this block, and we are going to fight.
I don’t know what good it will do… But I am willing to find out.
Notes:
I wrote this like 500 years ago.
More Posts from Coulduseprozac and Others
This is totally me
Be proud of the dumb, little thing you wrote, just because you wanted to write a dumb, little thing. Your writing doesn't need to be serious and award-winning for you to be proud of it.
Mushy May Day 14: "Shut Up, I'm Taking Care Of You"
Mountain makes Cumulus tea when she's coming down with a bug.
Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and thank you to @ghuleh-recs for making dividers for us <3
Another bonus prompt today!
It's early, sky starting to shift from black to blue, the promise of a new day. Mountain pads into the kitchen, having already been up for a while, still. There's a basket of vegetables fresh harvested from the greenhouse tucked under his arm. He heads to the sink, washing them before setting them aside to dry.
Mountain whips to face the door when he hears a hacking, wet cough behind him. He thought he was the only ghoul awake, sun just barely beginning to peek out from over the horizon, but he was wrong. As he turns, he finds Cumulus, hair tied back and deep circles under her eyes.
"Hey, hummingbird," he says cautiously, shutting off the sink. "What're you doing up so early?"
She shrugs with one shoulder, rubbing her eyes under her glasses. "Couldn't sleep." Her voice is stuffy, and she sounds miserable.
Mountain hums, taking the kettle off of its element and filling it with water. "You don't sound so good, Cue. I know you don't like tea that much, but it might make you feel better."
She mumbles something under her breath, coughing again, before sitting at the kitchen table, covering her face with her hands.
"What was that?" Mountain asks, not turning to face her as he sets the kettle to boil, digging through one of the cabinets for a specific jar of loose leaf tea, one of his own blends.
"Said you don't need to stop what you're doing to make tea, Mount. You know I prefer-" She freezes as Mountain peers over his shoulder, an emerald green eye meeting hers, eyebrow raised
"Maybe I wanted tea," he teases, grabbing mugs and the diffusers he likes to use. "No, but seriously, hummingbird, I love you. You sound like shit. Let me make you a cup."
"Mount-"
"Cumulus, shut up, I'm taking care of you," Mountain interjects, firmly but kindly. "Let me make you tea, it sounds like your throat hurts something awful."
"It does," Cumulus sighs, slumping exhausted into the kitchen chair. "I think it's why I couldn't sleep." She coughs with a wince. Mountain nods, reaching for one of the honey jars.
"I'd imagine," Mountain says, humming low in his throat in sympathy as he spoons the tea leaves and herbs into one of the diffusers. The kettle whistles, and Cumulus jolts in her chair, laughing weakly at herself for startling. Mountain takes it off of the element, pouring the boiling water into Cumulus's favorite mug and leaving it to steep.
"Now, I'm no Aether," he says, bringing the mug over to the kitchen table, setting it in front of her. "But I think breathing in the steam while it steeps might help some."
"Thank you, Mounty." Cumulus carefully takes the mug, the long sleeves of her sleep shirt pulled up over her hands as a makeshift potholder. She takes as deep a breath through her nose that her sinuses will allow, eyes flickering shut as she smells the ginger and peppermint of this particular blend.
He pours water into his own mug, his preferred green tea in his. He lets it steep, watching Cumulus fondly as she sticks her face closer to the steam. "Of course, hummingbird. Once that steeps, I'll put some honey in it. Know you like it sweet." He hipchecks her chair gently, boyishly grinning ear to ear.
"Mount," she whines, still stuffy but she's laughing, and that's all Mountain could ask for.
"Is the steam helping?" Mountain says, eyes glancing at the clock on the stove, keeping track of how long their teas have been steeping. He rummages through one of the drawers for a spoon, opening the jar of honey.
"Think so," Cumulus says. "Though it's fogging up my glasses something awful."
"Yeah, makes you look real dorky," he says, carefully taking the mug from her and pulling out the diffuser. He stirs in a large spoonful of honey and passes her the mug back.
"Mount." She laughs, blowing softly at the mug, and Mountain can feel the tingle in the base of his skull that means she's using her magick to cool it. Cumulus takes a long sip, shutting her eyes. "Thank you."
Mountain smiles a little wider as he takes a sip from his own mug. "Any time, hummingbird."
You idiot
Swiss loves the winter and Mountain is the reason.
Characters: Swiss, Mountain Word count: 446
Swiss loved winter; he just loved it. And the reason for that was a certain earth ghoul, who was currently snuggled up to him, snoring softly. The sun wasn’t up yet, and the multi was lucky that he could turn up his body heat, as it was freezing cold outside. Under the blanket, it was cosy, to say the least. Swiss had his tail wrapped around Mountain's waist, one leg tossed over Mountain's, clinging to him. Unfortunately, the tall ghoul was wearing a shirt, so Swiss couldn’t simply admire his soft skin. And the freckles on his shoulder were also nearly completely gone, which was kind of sad, Swiss thought so at least.
There was the best part of winter, though: Mountain's paunch. How his lover grew from slim to chubby every winter never failed to amaze Swiss. He loved that tummy, trailing his fingers over the ghoul's happy trail, pinching the soft skin. The way it wiggled when Swiss savoured him, how he could hold onto it, sinking his fingers into that bit of fat...
One of his hands found its way under the hem of the drummer's shirt, caressing his gut.
“What ya doin’?” the earth ghoul grunted softly without opening his eyes, his voice thick with sleep.
“Admiring you,” he answered with a grin.
Mountain snorted and cracked an eye open, watching the other.
“You idiot,” he mumbled quietly, but the smile on his lips spoke for itself.
Swiss squeezed the gut and chuckled at Mountain's reaction, who wiggled a bit. So the multi repeated the motion until the taller ghoul had enough and slipped his hands under the blanket, pulling the other's arms away and rolling them so he could press Swiss into the mattress.
Now it was Swiss's turn to laugh his lungs out, as Mountain knew exactly where to tickle him. And while his hands had Swiss's arms pinned away, his tail was free and attacked the multi's side, making him squirm and laugh.
“Stop! Mount-”
It was hard to form a sentence when you couldn’t really breathe, something Swiss knew from experience; and Mountain did too. He let the other suffer until the only thing coming from him were faint pleas to stop.
“So? Will you be a good boy now?” he asked with a grin, still holding the other's arms. And to his surprise, Swiss nodded, his cheeks completely flushed, chest rising fast.
What Mountain didn’t realize was that Swiss got what he wanted: the earth ghoul grounding him, showing how much winter affected his body and how soft he got. So even with the “torture” he had to go through, the multi counted it as a win. _______________
let me tag you here @icechippies
Sometimes I feel that someone should do a welfare check on that guitar
it’s not even 8am why must you do this
MUSHY MAY 2024
Prompts from the awesome @forlorn-crows
I'm really late to the party for day 13 (see my name for reasons 🤷♀️), but I've repurposed a oneshot I wrote for the 'Just Wanted to Hear Your Voice' prompt.
Dew and Aether
Phone sex
NSFW 18+
Around 2k words
Dew is away on business helping Terzo and has been teasing his mate Aether with selfies all day.
Thanks again for the divider @ghuleh-recs
Read below and check out my other Mushy May chapters on AO3 here
Reblogs are very much appreciated, please and thank you 🖤
Aether's phone vibrated in the pocket of his uniform jacket and he studiously ignored it. He knew who it would be.
Swiss glanced over at him and smirked. The two of them were out in the city on business with Papa who was currently in an important meeting. Aether and Swiss were acting as his bodyguard bookends.
Throughout the day, Dew had been sending Aether pictures. They’d started off innocently enough. Dew and Mountain were accompanying Terzo on a trip to conduct some Clergy business in Greenland. The messages had kicked off with scenic selfies or interesting things that they’d seen on their travels. As the day had gone on though, the selfies had become a little bit more... intimate.
Swiss had figured out something was up and he’d been studying Aether's reactions every time the phone vibrated. He could tell that the multi ghoul was itching to say something about it. Papa was too engrossed in his meeting to notice, thankfully.
It was almost dinnertime and the meeting finally began to wrap up. Aether was glad they would be heading home soon because his head was starting to throb with the energy he’d used being in the human world. Humans in larger numbers were extremely draining to his quintessential self.
They got settled in the car and Swiss began the drive back to the Abbey. Aether was in the back with Papa.
“Are you going to check your messages, Aether?” Swiss said with a shit eating grin. Aether glanced up and met his eyes in the rear-view mirror. He scowled and just about managed to stop the growl that rose up. “It might be something important,” the multi ghoul said with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“It can wait,” Aether snarled.
He felt Papa’s eyes on him.
“He is right. It could be important,” Papa said, oblivious to the situation.
"It's fine, Papa," he said, feeling his annoyance rising.
Aether sank down into his seat, muttering under his breath. He turned towards the window and tried to think of something other than the bathroom mirror selfie that Dew had sent him just after lunch. He’d had his shirt pulled up, holding it between his fangs to show off his lean stomach. The hand not holding his phone had been inside his pants. The caption had read:
Prepping for later...
Viewing that picture was the moment that Aether had realised he was going to have to ignore his mate’s messages for the rest of his shift because he would have been next to useless to Papa otherwise.
He and Dew had scheduled a video call for later once Terzo and the ghouls had settled at the small abbey they were staying at.
Aether went through the motions once he was dismissed for the evening, getting changed out of his uniform and into a pair of loose blue pyjama pants. It was warm in the lair so he left his shirt off. He ate dinner with the others and then they went their separate ways.
He settled down on his bed, leaning on the pillows propped up against the wooden headboard, legs stretched out and ankles crossed.
Aether grabbed his phone and finally opened the messenger app, smirking as he scrolled through the chat. The further down he went, the more risqué the pictures became. There were a couple from the bathroom of the plane, teasing shots of bare flesh. A few more from the room he’d been allocated, the room that for some reason seemed to have an abundance of mirrors which Dew had taken full advantage of.
Another message flashed up on the screen, swiftly followed by a short video and Aether barked out a laugh.
Been too busy to play today? Pity. I see you watching me. Have had to take matters into my own hands...
The video panned over a series of polaroids that had been laid out on top of the covers of the bed in Dew's temporary room. All of them were of Aether and every single one of them was absolutely obscene.
Aether fired off his own message.
Some late night art? A little too crude for my tastes, but the subject is pretty.
The green camera icon lit up and Aether answered the call. He grinned when Dew’s face appeared, a mock frown creasing his brow.
“Well I didn’t know you were so highbrow, Aeth. I would have chosen something more classy for my travel wank bank if I’d realised. I thought you were into smut. And keep your hands off that pretty ghoul. He is mine,” he growled. "Actually, second thoughts, maybe you should use your hands on him."
Aether laughed and Dew grinned back at him.
“It’s nice to see your face, Dew. I was getting a little bored of looking at your abs.”
Dew snorted and he shifted position.
“You missed me really. How was your day?”
The screen pixelated and then froze. Aether thought the call would drop but it came back to life again.
“Bad signal?” Aether asked. Dew rolled his eyes and nodded. “It would have been okay if I hadn’t been distracted all day. But I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Poor baby,” Dew said, mischief sparking in his eyes. “Did my holiday snaps make you lose your concentration?”
Aether sighed.
“Maybe.”
Dew frowned when he heard the weariness in Aether’s voice.
“What time is it there?” he asked.
“Just after nine.”
“It’s after midnight here. The others are asleep.”
The screen froze again and the call finally dropped. Aether cursed but almost immediately got an incoming call from a foreign number. He answered.
“Relying on the old fashioned technology, huh?”
Dew laughed down the line, husky and quiet.
“Apparently so.” He sighed and Aether heard him shifting position. He must have been sitting on his bed too. “Anyway, what are you wearing?”
Aether snorted.
“Not much.”
“Send me a pic.”
“More fuel for your wank bank?” he said dryly.
“Humour me.” Aether stretched out his arm and took a selfie, sending it to Dee's phone. The other ghoul chuckled after a moment when it finally came through. "Ugh the internet is so slow here. Oh, I like those pants. Do you know what would make them better though?”
Aether heard the sounds of fabric rustling and Dew hissed. He smirked, knowing exactly what Dew was doing and the semi that he’d had since he’d opened up their chat turned to a raging hard on when he pictured it.
“No, Dew, what would make them better?”
“If you came in them like a horny little teenager.”
“And how exactly am I going to accomplish that, Dew?” Aether said, voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m sure I can guide you through it. Maybe if you do exactly as I say, the next picture I get will be messier.”
Aether huffed a breath and Dew took in a shaky one.
“What are you doing, Dewdrop? It sounds like you’re struggling a bit with something there.”
“That would be telling,” he said. “Put the phone on speaker.” Aether did as he was told and put it down on the bedside table. “Now, those hands? Put them to good use. I want you to trail them over your skin. One of them is going to touch your body the way I touch it. You’re going to imagine that’s my hand and my claws raking along your torso. You’re going to be gentle and you’re going to be slow.”
Aether put his right hand on his neck, tilting his head to the side and stroking the skin reverently, fingers trailing along his jaw and down the column of his throat.
“What about my other hand, Dew?” he asked hoarsely.
Dewdrop chuckled down the phone.
“I want that other hand inside those pants and wrapped around that fat cock of yours.”
“So demanding,” Aether said as he trailed his left hand down over his scarred pectoral.
He skimmed over his abs and his hip, sliding his fingers under the waistband of the loose pyjama pants.
He closed his eyes and sighed when his hand closed around his cock. It was throbbing in time to his heart by now and he gripped it, giving it a long, lazy stroke.
“Tell me what it feels like,” Dew said.
Aether concentrated on the feel of his calloused palm against his velvety flesh. He groaned as he twisted his fist around the head and then moved it back down again to the base a few times.
“So fucking good,” he breathed out.
“Where’s that other hand?” Dew said shortly.
Aether was circling his nipple with his claws right then and he moved his hand to stroke along the skin of his stomach.
“On my stomach, stroking. Feels nice.”
Dew hummed his approval, breath coming out heavier now, pants and groans coming through the phone.
“I can’t wait too much longer. You need to hurry up. Grip yourself tighter. Imagine it’s me, imagine my fangs on your skin as I’m stroking you.” Aether took a shuddering breath and it hitched as he pictured Dew doing just that. He bit his bottom lip and a little snarl escaped him. “Oh yeah, like that. Make yourself feel good, so fucking good.” Dew gasped and made the whining sound that he often did when he was about to lose it. Aether could feel himself getting closer to the edge by now too, sweat had broken out on his skin and his heels dug into the covers below him. He groaned again. “Put that other hand to better use.” Dew’s voice was strained now, barely above a whisper. “Use it on your balls. Squeeze them, do it the way I do.”
Aether did as Dew said and reached inside the pants, left hand working himself faster. He was almost there, but when he grabbed his balls with his right hand and squeezed, hard, the effect was instant. It tipped him right over. He gritted his teeth in a snarl and arched his back, ropes of cum pulsing out of him as he worked himself through it.
Through the pounding of blood in his ears he heard Dewdrop snarl as he finished himself off also. He heard his name on the other ghoul’s lips and he huffed out a breath as he came back down to earth.
“Fuck,” he gasped, chuckling when he glanced down at himself and saw the wet patch at the front of the flannel.
He really did feel like a horny teenager.
Aether shifted back onto his elbows, tipping his head back and looking up at the ceiling.
“I need that picture now,” Dew's voice cut through his post orgasmic haze.
He sounded wrecked.
Aether grabbed his phone and took another selfie, the same position as the one before.
He hit send and sighed.
“Happy?”
It took a moment but Dew groaned.
“Look at that. Dirty boy. I love it.”
Dew cursed under his breath and the sound of a door opening drifted out of the phone.
“Fucking hell, Dew, can you keep it down?” Mountain's gruff, sleep addled voice cut through. “Oh my fucking Satan! What the fuck, Dew? I need to bleach my fucking eyeballs!”
Dewdrop was cackling and Aether could only imagine the scene that Mountain had just walked into. Dew, naked on his bed, cock probably still in his hand and surrounded by his private collection of pictures of Aether. He snorted a laugh and heard the door slamming.
“Maybe you should fucking knock first, Mountain!” Dew yelled after him. He sighed heavily and Aether yawned. “I should let you rest. I could hear how tired you were just before. Has Papa given you the day off tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m going to sleep in. I think I feel the need to take some arty photographs during the day though,” he said with a grin.
Dewdrop laughed and the sound gave Aether peace.
“Well, I look forward to seeing your creative side. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow so I’ll be sure to sneak a peek when I can.”
“Good night, Dewdrop,” Aether said sleepily.
“Night, sweet. Love you,” Dew said. “Oh, by the way, leave those pants on to sleep in. I want you reminded of me as soon as you wake up. Make sure you mess them up again in the morning.”
Aether chuckled.
“You’re such a filthy little shit, Dew.”
“I know," he said unashamedly. "You love it.”
He hung up and Aether grinned. He couldn’t wait until Dew was back. He had some things in mind to repay the favour already.
