#G/t hurt/comfort

[tinyundercover]

the half-pint

Nyx and Perrin are thieves in a fantasy universe. After a mishap, Nyx suffers the consequences of her actions. word count: 2.5k @gtgotcha4gaza prompt for @sizediscount !! the donation period is still open if anyone wants to contribute and receive g/t art or writing <3

Nyx’s jobs were always simple— get in, steal the thing, then get out. 

She had been accepting these jobs for years, and by now she considered herself to be one of the best thieves in the area. Along with her partner, Perrin, there wasn’t a single enchanted object, gold coin, or rare pet that the two of them couldn’t steal with ease. 

However, as she and Perrin peered into the camp of fairies, she immensely regretted accepting this job.

“How are we supposed to get to the flower without being seen?” Nyx muttered, dark eyes narrowed. 

The two of them were hidden behind a bush, crouched on the dead leaves of the forest floor. Beside her, Perrin sent her an amused glance. Brown curly hair rested atop his head, slightly darker than his warm, tan skin. “Who cares if some fairies see us? What are they gonna do, bite our ankles?” 

Nyx frowned, gaze focused ahead. Her black hair was pulled back into dozens of dark braids, snaking down her back. “Fairies can cast spells, genius.”

Perrin’s lips twitched into a smile at her stoic response, glancing back towards the camp. “I know, I’m just joking.”

Earlier in the day, a client had reached out to the Nyx and Perrin, requesting their skills. Their task was to retrieve an incredibly rare flower from the center of the fairies’ camp, buried deep in the woods. 

Nyx prided herself on being stealthy, nothing more than a shadow— yet as she examined the rows of miniature houses ahead, she wondered how she could possibly sneak through this tiny town without her footsteps shaking the buildings.

She felt like a big, awkward giant. Even crouched on the forest floor, hidden behind the bush, she was bigger than any of the little buildings. She could maybe squeeze her hand through a doorway if she tried. The houses were scattered over the ground, assembled from twigs and leaves. Tiny lamplights, glowing with green fairy magic, illuminated the area.

Even though it was well into the night, Nyx could still see the glimmering, colorful wings of the fairies still awake, drifting between the shops and houses, floating mere inches above the ground. Each fairy appeared to be the size of her pinky.

Further into the center of the little camp, about twenty feet away from Nyx and Perrin, a thin plant reached towards the night sky. Several blue flowers sprouted off of it, glowing faintly. All they needed was one of those flowers, and their mission would be complete.

“This sucks,” Nyx grumbled, sitting back. “We’re too big. They’re gonna see us no matter what we do.”

“We’ll just have to be fast, then,” Perrin mused, fingers drumming over the thick material of his pant leg. They both wore dark, earthy colors to blend into the forest around them. “I could run in there and grab a flower in ten seconds.”

“Ten seconds is more than enough time to get cursed by a bunch of fairies, Perrin,” Nyx scolded. He shrugged his large shoulders.

“It was just an idea. What do you suggest?”

Nyx focused on the blue flowers ahead, eyes narrowing. “I have a plan.”

Minutes later, Perrin had disappeared into the tangles of the forest, leaving Nyx alone behind the bush. She waited patiently, barely blinking, the silence of the forest unbearable.

Eventually, she heard a crash from deep in the forest, as well as Perrin’s footsteps dramatically stomping away. To Nyx, it wasn’t incredibly loud, but the tiny fairies mingling around the camp reacted as if they had experienced an earthquake. 

Immediately, voices rose up from the winged people, bright and angry. Perrin continued to make quite a ruckus somewhere in the forest, serving as a distraction, and Nyx leaned forward, focused.

The fairies began to swoop towards the noise, away from Nyx. Careful not to rustle the leaves around her, Nyx pulled herself to her feet, her lean body posed to move quickly.

The fairies seemed even smaller once she stood to her full height. She watched silently, hidden in the shadows of the trees, until the swarm of glowing wings faded into the distance. Once she was certain that the camp was empty, she darted forward into the tiny village.

The houses barely reached her knees. Nyx kept her gaze low as she weaved through the buildings, cautious of where she placed her feet. She didn’t want to knock anything over— her job was to steal a flower, not to leave destruction.

Her heart raced with exhilaration when she finally reached the plant. It twisted towards the sky, swaying slightly, and without any hesitation she whipped her knife out of her sleeve and sliced a flower off at the stem.

The glow of the flower flickered briefly. Dropping it into a small jar she had retrieved from her tunic, she spun on her heels, swiftly moving away.

The hum of fairy wings grew in her ear, and she cursed under her breath. Just as she reached the edge of the camp, a blur of green wings blocked her vision.

Nyx stumbled, pressing all of her weight into the balls of her feet so as to not tumble over and break any of the delicate buildings. She jerked back, focusing on the fairy hovering directly in front of her face, his little arms crossed over his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He barked, his small voice alight with fury.

This fairy must have stayed behind in the camp. For a moment, Nyx was terrified— until she processed just how small this man was. It was very difficult to feel intimidated by someone the size of his finger.

She scowled, darting around him. “Get out of my way, half-pint.” His wings hummed angrily.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem keen to chase after her. He only called out to her, voice dwindling with the distance Nyx rapidly put between them. “How confident,” he remarked. “You’ll regret this.”

When Nyx glanced over his shoulder, he was still hovering at the edge of the camp, the glow of his wings illuminating the trees in a faint green light. She said nothing, lips thinning.

His words rocked around her mind until she met up with Perrin, half a mile from the camp. He clapped her on the shoulder, grinning as she presented the jar— but despite their victory, her stomach still tingled with unease.

—

After the worst sleep of her life, Nyx jolted awake.

Darkness surrounded her, suffocating. She blinked rapidly, reaching around for the edge of her blanket, but she couldn’t figure out where she was.

Last night, after their successful mission, Nyx and Perrin had retreated to the closest inn and passed out on cheap beds. Nyx had been prepared for a restless night on the lumpy bed and stringy blanket, but she hadn’t expected to feel this dizzy upon waking up.

“What the hell…” Nyx muttered, finally finding the edge of the blanket and yanking it down to her chest. The fabric was much thicker than she remembered. She hadn’t realized that the blanket was large enough to cover her entire body… strange.

Her confusion grew as soon as her vision cleared.

The ceiling, dark and wooden, stretched high above her. She blinked several times, brow furrowing. The room hadn’t seemed this big when she had gone to sleep last night.

Something was inexplicably wrong.

Anxiety wormed its way into her chest, she sat up, wrapping her arms around herself. Icy fear struck her like lightning when she registered what she was seeing. 

The bed stretched around her, an impossibly huge expanse of beige cloth comparable to a wheat field. The edge of the mattress dropped away to a wide, empty space, a drop that would surely kill Nyx if she were to tumble off. Beside her, her pillow was a mountain.

“What…” Nyx swallowed, the color draining from her face.

If she didn’t know any better, she would think she was the size of a fairy.

Her stomach twisted into knots, fearful, confused, shocked. Fighting the dizziness clouding her mind, she shoved herself to her feet— and immediately her arms shot out to keep her balance. She let out a panicked shout, heart pounding. The plush mattress was much harder to stand on than she had been expecting.

Something creaked in response to her yell. Nyx snapped her head up to the other bed.

Her heart jumped into her throat. The sun was barely rising in the window, pale light streaming in to illuminate the hill of Perrin’s shoulder. His chest moved with steady breaths, curls buried into a pillow.

“Oh gods,” Nyx mumbled, stomach dropping.

Perrin was already a big guy, shoulders broad and thick— but this was incomprehensible. Even from across the room, his size absolutely overwhelmed her. Usually they were close to the same height, but Nyx was small enough now that he could easily scoop her up in one hand, and the thought made her nauseas. Nyx’s breath hitched in her throat, unable to pull her gaze away from his enormous, sleeping form.

“Oh gods,” Nyx repeated, panic rising.

Her heart jumped as Perrin shifted again, a large hand tightening on his pillow. When his eyes fluttered open, she fought the urge to turn and run.

It’s just Perrin.

You’ve worked with him for a year. 

It’s Perrin. It’s fine.

Nyx swallowed thickly, stepping back, heart thudding nervously. Perrin didn’t notice her. He sat up and stretched, yawning into his hand. 

His movement brought a small gasp from Nyx’s lips. She hadn’t expected him to sit up, especially not so quickly, revealing that he was much bigger than she could have imagined.

Gods. I’m small.

Her chest tightened when his gaze swooped towards her, drawn to her gasp. Panic settled into her stomach as soon as his eyes fixed on her small form, squinting, then widening.

The world seemed to freeze for a moment, as he took in the sight of her tiny, trembling form. 

“…Nyx?” His voice broke, shocked.

Adrenaline gripped her by the wrists. All reasoning left her mind, leaving her only with primal terror— and with no explanation why, she spun around and bolted.

“Wha— Nyx!”

The startled shout only encouraged her to sprint faster, stumbling over the thick blanket. Panic raced in her chest, shrieking in her ears to run.

Perrin’s footsteps behind her were large and fast, shaking the bed below her. She let out a shriek of surprise when two enormous hands slammed onto the bed in front of her, and before she could halt her sprint she collided right into his palms.

“Nyx, Nyx, woah— it’s okay!”

Cold terror shook Nyx to her core. She staggered away from the enormous hands in front of her, each finger large enough to overpower her with ease— a terrifying, sickening thought. She whirled around, wobbling on the plush surface. 

Perrin was kneeling on the floor, broad chest pressed into the side of the bed. His arms stretched forward, hands clasped firmly behind Nyx’s tiny form, trapping her. He was absolutely massive.

No. I’m tiny.

His eyebrows tugged together, a plethora of uneasy emotions crossing his face. Under his enormous, overwhelming gaze, Nyx felt like a mouse. She wanted to sob.

“It’s okay, it’s okay— I promise.” Perrin’s intense gaze focused on her, glancing over her trembling form. “It’s just me, Nyx, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His comforting words tugged at her heart, and she took several deep breaths, hugging herself. Perrin’s presence surrounded her, enormous and overbearing, and she choked on her breath. “What’s— what’s happening—?”

“Breathe,” Perrin ordered gently, gaze softening. Something enormous and warm pressed into Nyx’s back, and after a nervous flinch she registered that it was his finger. “It’s okay.”

Nyx’s breath shuddered, and she brought her hand to her dark cheek, shakily scraping away the tear that had fallen.

Once Perrin seemed confident that Nyx had relaxed, he carefully unclasped his fingers and pulled his hands towards himself. Nyx let out a shaky breath, stomach twisting.

“Are you okay?” Perrin finally asked, brow knit together in concern.

Nyx swallowed, struggling to meet his enormous gaze. Her voice felt small and weak when she spoke, an uncomfortable feeling. “I… I think so.”

Perrin observed her glancing anxiously around the expansive room, taking in her wobbly, tearful, tiny form. “What happened?”

She blinked in confusion. Reaching back into her memory, she focused on the events of last night. Green wings floated around her mind.

Gods!

“I think… I think a fairy cursed me,” she murmured, heart sinking.

Fairy magic was incredibly difficult to fight. If Nyx wanted to break the curse and grow herself back to her usual height, it would take unfathomable amounts of research and work. The thought that she might be trapped this size for an indefinite amount of time made her feel ill.

“Oh.” Perrin blinked in surprise. “Huh. I guess you were right about how dangerous fairies are.”

“You think?” Nyx muttered, face hot. 

Perrin glanced over her, and Nyx wondered if he was aware of how intimidating he appeared, just by existing. He chewed his lip, lost in thought. “It’s alright,” he finally said. “There’s a library downstairs. I’m sure they have hundreds of books on fairy magic.”

“Right.” Nyx nodded unhappily, her stomach jumping every time Perrin shifted, as if he might snatch her up without warning. “Right, we should… go do some research.”

He nodded. His shoulders straightened up, shooting icy surprise into Nyx’s ribs, but he didn’t seem to notice her startled flinch. With a focused expression, he reached towards her.

Nyx inwardly cursed, jerking back from the massive, approaching fingers. However, instead of trapping her in an overwhelming fist like she had expecting, Perrin only lowered his hand to the bed, palm facing up. His gaze softened.

“Let’s go,” he offered. “I can’t imagine you want to stay that size any longer than you have to.”

She blinked up at him, tense. Her mind raced.

“Yeah,” she slowly agreed, peering down at his palm. “Right.”

His hand was enormous. Thick scars and calluses awaited her, his skin worn and damaged with overuse. She froze, stomach cold.

Her trepidation did not go unnoticed. Perrin leaned closer, eyes gentle. “Do you want to stay here?”

His words suddenly felt insulting. Did she really appear so weak and vulnerable that a simple trip to the library downstairs was too much for her? Her terror slowly melded into embarrassment. She and Perrin had gotten into countless dangerous situations together, all of which she had remained calm and cool and rational. This shouldn’t be any different.

Fueled by spite, she surged forward, stepping firmly onto his hand. 

She wobbled, not expecting the skin of his palm to sink slightly beneath her feet. Fighting the anxiety flickering in her chest, she sat down, settling into the center of his massive palm. Her arms crossed.

“Alright,” she huffed, furious at the situation. Perrin’s lips twitched in amusement. “Let’s go.”

If she was lucky, they’d be able to find a counterspell in the library, and she’d be back to normal in a few hours.

Everything would be fine.

--

I had a great time writing this!! be sure to check out the other writing/art contributions from other volunteers as well!! <3

[narrans]

Stellar Allies | Part Two

GT July | Stellar Allies | Part Two

Words: Grit, Warmth, Foggy, Experiment, Honey, Lost, Doubt

It was mind boggling. Was this actually happening? There was something that looked like a weird spaceship in the form of a cylindrical tube the color of liquid mercury with a tiny figure inside – an alien.

Jax and Cliff both simultaneously reached up and pinched their forearms, mirroring the motion as if it were planned.

Swallowing the nerves that was making him tremble, Jax carefully secured the tongs onto the edge of the silver cylinder and began pulling it away from its original crash site. Cliff said nothing and instinctually maneuvered out of the way so that Jax could pull the ship in between the two of them safely away from the flames.

The looked down, gawking at what was inside. There, inside of the silver cylinder, was a six inch tall figure. Their limbs were limp, and they were wearing what looked like some kind of black mesh and leather flight suit. Cliff counted two arms, two legs, one head, and most interestingly another limb that made him think it might be some kind of tail. There was a dark helmet secured to their head, but it was obvious there was a crack along the surface.

Is that what was causing some of the hissing sound? Or was it just the ship? Cliff wondered as he crouched a little lower to examine the ship.

Tiny lights flashed and blinked all around the padded interior. Symbols on a screen flashed intermittently, but neither boy had any indication of what that could mean.

“Is it… dead?” asked Jax as he began reaching the tongs forward. Cliff was about to scold him for using the tongs on the figure, but was relieved when his friend merely grabbed the edge of the cylinder and gave it a little shake.

Both boys nearly leapt out of their skin when they saw the most minute movement from the figure’s chest and the head twitch subtly. They knew it wasn’t because of the movement of the cylinder that caused the movement, meaning this alien was alive. Cliff’s fascination was making him tingly all over, and the shaking in his friend’s shoulders told him Jax was feeling the same way.

“Dude!” hissed Jax. “There’s an alien. A freakin’ alien! Do you know how dope this is!? We might be the first to make contact with an alien species.”

“Allegedly,” grinned Cliff. Both boys exchanged an amused look, having read up on dozens of conspiracies and “abduction accounts” during their research, before turning their attention back to the figure.

“Do you think it’s hurt? Can it even breathe oxygen? All of these things are leaking and stuff, and we do not have the equipment to make an environmental chamber suited for it if it doesn’t breathe oxygen at our atmospheric levels,” fretted Cliff. Jax noticed the crack in the alien’s helmet and his brow furrowed. He was obviously trying to think of a good solution, as was Cliff.

“Okay, let’s assume for a second that it can breathe oxygen. I’m basing this off of the fact that it took us thirty minutes or so to get here and this ship-pod thing has probably been open this whole time. Unless this thing doesn’t abide by the rule of threes, it can probably breathe in our atmosphere,” stated Jax.

His friend was right. Cliff remembered the rule of threes being three weeks without food, three days without water or sleep, three hours in a harsh environment, and, the most important for this argument, three minutes unconscious without breathable air while unconscious.

“Okay, assuming these things are true,” added Cliff. “Then we can assume that this ship-pod thing wouldn’t open if the environment wasn’t ideal. I’m basing this off the fact that a species capable of interstellar travel would have the tech and wherewithal to make sure a survival pod wouldn’t open in harmful conditions.”

“So, at the moment, we’re assuming the alien is stable,” concluded Jax. Cliff nodded affirmatively. “Okay, then the next big question is what do we do next? Assuming the online conspiracy theories are right and everything, the government might want to experiment on the little guy. On the other hand, this might be part of a scouting mission or invasion force. This is just starting to get complicated, and I don’t want this thing face hugging me in the middle of the night and implanting little chest bursting aliens in my throat.”

This was ultimately the biggest question they had to contend with. Was there a “right” choice? They were far out of their depth when it came to preparedness and knowledge. It was a judgment call which had countless unforeseen repercussions.

What was the right thing to do?

Cliff chewed on the inside of his cheek as he thought, a nervous habit that often left him tasting iron by the time he came up with a solution. Both points Jax made were valid, but it was clear to him which one felt like the right thing to do; and he had the argument to back it up.

“I think… we take our chances and bring him with us back home.” Jax’s eyes widened as he listened to his friend’s words. It was obvious, even beneath the mask, that he was about to interject, so Cliff continued. “Hear me out. Just look at this tube for a second. Do you see any weapons? Do you see anything on here that might indicate anything other than life support? And what about our little alien companion? Any weapons? Side arms?

“I think this whole thing is supposed to be an escape pod and that our little alien was either in danger from his crew mates and had to evacuate using this escape pod or something happened to the original ship, which is probably the bigger chunk of burning mass that was falling from the sky that we thought was a meteor, like a technical malfunction. Either way, I think at least this little guy here is safe. This is just a theory though. I could be horribly wrong, but that’s what my gut is telling me.”

Jax listened patiently to his friend’s logic and, after a few minutes, nodded.

“Your argument is sound enough, but on the off chance this guy has acid blood or some kind of weapon, is there something we can… I don’t know… put him in for the time being?” asked Jax. Then, his eyes brightened. “Wait, our experiments from last year. We’ve got those plastic containers.”

“My thoughts exactly,” concurred Cliff. “We’ve got those ULINE poly tubs and, worst case scenario, mom has some catering equipment in the shed that is probably acid resistant. Until then, we’ll just have to take our chances.”

Their nerves set back in as they suddenly realized what it was they needed to do next – transport the alien. Both of them with their backpacks were prepared to move rocks, not miniscule alien beings. Still, they had few options available at the moment.

“Okay,” said Jax finally. “I’ll do the transportation and we’ll keep him at your place. Mom is inspecting my room tomorrow to see if I’ve cleaned so now is a bad time for me. If something bad happens, we tell parents and everyone who’ll listen. Yeah?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” breathed Cliff. Jax, obviously shaking, removed his backpack and shifted some of his things to Cliff’s bag to give the most space possible for the space pod. The boys worked together to tape part of the pod open so it wouldn’t close on the figure or accidentally seal shut during transportation.

They also tried to secure the figure by gently laying some of their emergency duct tape along the opening across the figure’s legs and chest and securing it to either side of the opened pod. The moment of truth came and Jax’s brave face was threatening to crack. It was Cliff’s reassuring bump on his shoulder that really pushed Jax over the edge and away from his uncertainty.

Using his heat resistant gloves, Jax lifted the pod off of the ground and slid it into his backpack, using what little padding he had as well as his jacket to make sure the pod didn’t jostle around too much.

The entire time, the figure only stirred twice, but made no additional movements even as Jax zippered his pack shut. Before leaving, Cliff made sure to tamp out all of the smoldering brush to prevent potential environmental hazards.

And with that, they were off. Neither of them knew what was going to happen or how they were going to navigate the countless decisions before them. One thing they did know was that this decision felt right, and they had their logic to back it up.

They could only hope they were right.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Warmth.

Foggy.

Groggy.

Pain.

Cold.

Confusion.

Ol’oih wasn’t sure which thing he felt more. The confusion of everything leading up to him blacking out felt like a bad dream, and the pain in his body made the experience real. It was a souvenir of recent events, and it wasn’t a pleasant one.

He could’ve sworn he heard voices at some point, but he couldn’t be sure. They were loud and booming, but also muffled. Was that because his hearing was damaged? Was it his life support helmet? Or was this actually how the voices were supposed to sound?

There was a fair amount of jostling all around him and, at some point, he was once again stationary. Every element of training told him he needed to be awake and aware, but his body was absolutely no help in this endeavor. He just needed to rest to heal and, ultimately, that was the logical choice too.

Ol’oih knew that he would be no use to himself or any one of his crew mates if he was incapacitated and hurting. So, he relented and let himself sleep.

When he returned to consciousness, however, he wasn’t sure if he had made the correct decision to rest. For a moment, he thought he was still beneath the night sky until he realized that the “stars” above him weren’t stars but merely beams of light. He was surrounded by darkness all around except for the little dots of light above him.

Another thing he noticed was that his helmet had a massive crack along the screen, breaking the airtight seal and exposing him to the atmosphere. He thanked Ove silently that this atmosphere was a friendly one and not something that was toxic. He’d be out of luck if that were the case. The rest of his limbs felt intact, albeit stiff, and he was laying on something that was soft that wasn’t the safety of his escape pod.

A thousand questions came to mind.

What happened when he blacked out? Where was his crew? Were they alright? Were they the ones who found him? Or did something – someone – else find him and bring him here? Had he been captured? Was he now someone’s experiment? Or had he been rescued from the crash? Where even was he? Had they even managed to crash near the rendezvous point?

His body thrummed nervously as he allowed his feelings of doubt to overwhelm him before taking two deep breaths, as he had learned in his training, before collecting his thoughts and worrying about one problem at a time. It was all he could do. Getting through this was going to take grit and determination, and laying there being afraid was not a luxury he could afford at the moment.

First problem was his ability to see. His vision was still a bit foggy, but that probably had something to do with his helmet and the lack of light around him. He had something for that, but he’d need to remove part of his suit. It was a risk he needed to take.

Ol’oih extended his arm forward, feeling it twinge slightly, to make sure he wasn’t going to sit up into a wall or ceiling. Confirming his surroundings, Ol’oih cautiously sat up and detached the clasps keeping his helmet affixed to his suit and pulled his helmet off of his head.

Now free, he realized he was feeing a bit woozy. He hadn’t had anything to eat in who knew how long and would need to consume something soon if he was going to survive. Everything cost precious energy, even what he was about to do to see his surroundings, and he needed to ration correctly if he was going to get out of this ordeal alive.

His body thrummed again, but he shut down his feelings of nervousness as he focused on the task at hand. Ol’oih reached up and removed one of his protective gloves and concentrated on the ciferi in his hand. Like he’d done so many times in his youth, the ridges leading from his core to the tips of his four fingers began to glow a soft green, illuminating the space around him.

What he saw made a pit form in his core.

All around him were portless, doorless walls with odd ridges along the top which undoubtedly latched the roof to the rest of the structure. Nothing else was in the containment unit other than what Ol’oih was sitting on, which resembled a type of white growth similar to this planet’s moss. The item didn’t seem alike like the white growths from his home, so he elected to stay sitting.

Being close enough to touch the walls, Ol’oih hesitantly gave the wall a push. Though it didn’t give easily, there was an element to it that was extremely synthetic as well as flexible. With the right nudge, Ol’oih thought he might be able to use it to his advantage.

I need to measure the space and estimate how tall this thing is. If whatever put me in here is hostile, I need to be able to jump out if I can. It’ll take energy, so I need to use my opportunities wisely.

So, with that in mind, Ol’oih stood and walked to the far wall. He pressed his back against it before walking at a steady pace from one side to the next, using his gate as a measurement. He repeated this for the width and then reached as high as he could to guestimate the height of the container he was in.

Okay, twelve ambas wide, thirty-seven long, and probably twenty or so wide? 8880 sambas. Great. I won’t run out of air, plus the holes in the top should allow air inside. No suffocation. My standing jump is twelve. Running might be fifteen? Using my addon, I could probably hook it along the top and swing to get out if I really needed to.

Last resort though. Lots of energy to do something like that. Plus, that’s if I need to escape. If I can, I will communicate my intentions. About time I’m able to practice my practical language skills. Years of study and simulations finally paying off.

Looks like being a communication ensign actually is coming in handy.

This thought made Ol’oih tremor nervously. Though everyone had basic language in the program, he was the only one of their crew who was fluent. If the others were in trouble, they’d have no true way to communicate.

In the middle of his swirling thoughts and feelings of being completely and utterly lost, Ol’oih was suddenly interrupted as the entire container around him shifted. The sudden jostle threw him to the side and then to all fours as there was a cacophonous cracking sound.

Juthez! Out of time to make a plan. Can’t pretend to go back to sleep. No sense in that. I need answers and assistance. Looks like communication is my only option. Juthez! Please be friendly.

The thrumming wracking Ol’oih’s body was making him feel completely sick and cold, but he knew this was necessary. The doubt in his mind would have to be pushed to the side for the time being. Skill alone was what he had to rely on, and he could only hope it would be enough.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Both boys had managed to make it to Cliff’s home without disturbing his parents. Jax was the one brave enough to lift the six inch tall figure of the alien out of the pod and into the plastic storage container while Cliff arranged a towel for a bed, arguing that it would be cruel for the alien to just be on the hard ground when he could be injured.

Jax went home and immediately cleaned his room while Cliff kept the storage container under his desk with the lid fastened securely. He tried going back to sleep, but knowing there was an alien mere feet from his bed was enough to keep the teen away from sleep for the next week.

It would be hours before Jax reached out saying his room had passed inspection and another twenty minutes before Cliff’s parents were awake and preparing to go to work. He’d asked if it was okay if Jax came over, to which his parents agreed as long as they didn’t perform any science experiments.

Cliff felt like he was lying by omission by saying he and Jax wouldn’t be doing any science experiments since they would be investigating the alien, but he deemed that as a scientific investigation and not an experiment and agreed. With his assurance, his parents left for work and Jax was over within minutes.

He had barely crossed the threshold before the questions started coming out.

“Has the alien woken up? Have you checked on him? Do we know if it’s a him? What if he doesn’t wake up? Are you as stoked as I am because I’m literally vibrating all over!” Jax’s inability to contain his excitement was hilarious and he quickly pulled his friend inside his house.

“Dude, just take a breath. Yeah, I’m stoked too, but we need to chill. If the alien reads emotions and stuff like that, he might get spooked. This is a friendly check-up and possible exchange of information, possibly with the first alien in history. Oh, who am I kidding, I’m shaking all over. I couldn’t even go back to sleep,” grinned Cliff.

“Me too!” Jax’s grin was stretching from ear to ear. Cliff knew his expression had to be the same to the point his cheeks were starting to hurt. “So, do we check on him now? Or what?”

“Only logical,” agreed Cliff. “If he’s still passed out, then we can investigate the ship, which is still safely under the bed. If he’s awake, we can commence Operation: First Contact.”

“Nerd,” teased Jax, getting the reference immediately, as both teens made their way to Cliff’s room. What started as a confident stride immediately shifted to cautiously optimistic steps as they shuffled into Cliff’s room and crouched by the hard plastic crate. As carefully as they could, they pulled the crate out from under the desk.

As they did, both boys felt the crate jostle subtly, as if something fell over, and let their excitement override caution as they cracked open the top of the crate. Light flooded into the crate, and, for the first time, they saw someone looking back at them.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

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Beginning

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@gianttol #gtjuly #gtjuly2024

[beansthough]

New g/t fic Concept:

A borrower grows up and currently lives in a western themed antique shop.

He lost his family at a young age and with what little survival skills he had he learned to survive and has been on his own since.

The only skill he knew for sure was to stay hidden from Beans, because if you got caught then surly you would meet death or worse. His family had made a fine example of that.

But the one constant in this borrowers young life without parents to raise him is the never ending playing of old westerns on the many retro t.v.’s He sees these characters in himself and the many ways the these hero’s survived the Wild West.

His favorite film was about a simple boy named Jessie. Jessie just like the borrower grew up with very little and no family, he lived a very hard life.

But when Jessie was falsely accused of stealing the towns cattle and money, the boy has to go on the run and become the ultimate gunslinger, cattle roper, and hero to prove his innocence and find the real culprit to save the town.

And the borrower swore there was no better film on this earth. Jessie could do anything and be anything. Not to mention Jessie’s actor was in many other western films where he was this unstoppable hero.

So from then on the young Borrower decided he himself would be called Jessie, and he would live up to his name. He dressed like him, talked like him, and tried his best to live like him, while all the while hiding from the many beans who entered the shop.

And so the Cowboy Borrower was born…

—————-

Katie is a young woman who had just recently inherited a small amount of farmers land and the simple cottage that came with it. She’s ready to start her new life with her college friends the town over to help support her.

After living in her new home for about three months she has managed to start to raise chickens, a single dairy cow, of course her trusted barn cat Lucy.

It is after these three months that her college friends invite her on an outing to go antique shopping, and with at a glance at an empty shelf and her friends calling her how could she decline on a fun outing.

The group had just finished walking the square of this small town when a certain antique shop caught the young women’s eye. It was almost completely western themed.

It was no secret that Katie’s house was decorated in almost every fashion imaginable, but she did have a western collection that she would like to grow, and what better place to do that then here?

It was in that shop that she found truly the best find. A whole set of cowboy themed tea cups with a matching picnic blanket and basket, and the best part yet was the adorable tiny cowboy doll inside.

;)

My good people I give to you:

The Antique Cowboy

[sprout-gt]

I heard that your ask box was open…

a size shifter whose default is tiny but constantly shifts up to be in regular human society, who also hangs out with a bunch of collage frat bros so he doesn’t know if they’ll accept him if they knew he was tiny. Just the everyday strain of sizing up, trying to make sure his height is consistent but failing a lot, excusing himself just so he can have a small break, and don’t get me started on the hi-jinx that happens when he’s tiny at a frat club and tries to hide or he’s tiny in his apartment and his friends get in somehow and they don’t notice him on the floor. And don’t get me started on when they find out!

This scenario has bounced in my head so much like

this is a really interesting scenario, thanks for submitting it!! (and also, holy shit, the potential?)

i imagine the physical and emotional strain of trying to shift constantly would be pretty taxing, especially if you have to focus on getting your height exactly the same every time. the spike in heartrate every time the topic of height gets brought up, and concentrating hard on not shrinking from the nerves.

the shifter really likes his friends and loves hanging out with them, he just can't predict their reaction. every time he ducks away to shift into a more comfortable height in some tucked away in some secluded corner he can feel the pressure weighing down on him.

the shifter would probably be in a perpetual state of anxiety that any of his friends would call him out on his weird behavior at any time, because he doesn't even know how he would respond.

but i'm imagining when the shoe finally does drop, it's completely unexpected. maybe the shifter is hiding out in an unoccupied room, half his height just to give his mind some rest. and of course this is the one time, the one time, he neglects to check that the door is locked behind him.

one of his closest friends barges in excitedly, clearly looking for him, eyes immedietly locking in on his friend who not three minutes ago was eye level with him. the shifter immedietly snaps up to his reduced height. He's completely panic stricken, mind buzzing with anxiety and at a loss for what to do next.

his friend closes the door quickly behind him, locks it with a soft click, and slides his back against the door till he's sitting, equally unable to think of what to say. now, they both realize, they're at eye level again.

i imagine that the shifter confides in his friend about his size-shiftiness, and feels the weight that has been slowly crescendoing within him finally disperse. they have a really honest conversation, and his friend promises him he won't tell a soul, but he will be there if he needs him.

now, when the shifter is hanging out with his friends, he feels much calmer knowing that when the conversation moves to height, he has someone who will immedietly change the topic. if the friend notices him go a little quiet, clearly focusing on maintaining his height, he'll pull him aside so he can have a little break- while having someone to talk to.

there are a million different directions this can go, what a tasty idea.

[gtbutterfly]

Quincy and the forest giant

(this was written before I came up with the title)

I'm gonna try coming up with a real name for this story later. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it, criticism is appreciated.

Here's the previous part,

CW: angst, threats, mild squeezing,

--------------------------------------------------------------

It was twenty or thirty minutes later. Ella moved me in front of the window to see the rain. It was pouring outside, the water turned the dirt to mud and left splashes in the lake. The wind howled through the branches and blew sticks and what was left of the leaves around with the water. Lightning would flash every so often with the roar of thunder, which didn’t seem too loud given the footsteps of the giant that had taken me. I turned towards her to ask something,

“I’m…really stuck here until tomorrow?”

“I’m not any more happy about it than you are, kid,” the giant said, leaning on the window still. “They can’t control the weather, so you’re just gonna have to wait it out.”

“Um…what will happen until then?” I asked,

“You just, stay here I guess,” Ella said, before sighing. It was awkward being alone with her. She clearly didn’t want anything to do with me, and I was too scared of her to try making conversation. So we just sat around in silence. I guess eventually she got fed up with it because at one point she tried talking to me.

“So…what were you doing when you saw me?” ‘Ella asked,

“Uh, why do you ask?” I said,

“Just wondering. Y’know, kids like you shouldn’t really be up that late,” Ella said,

“um…I was star gazing…I have trouble sleeping sometimes…” I said, looking down,

“Doesn’t your town have a curfew or something?” The giant asked,

“I was doing it from out a window…” I said, before realizing something, “How do you know about the town's curfew?” Ella was silent for a moment. She looked almost embarrassed at what she just said, how she revealed something she wasn’t supposed to. Then she sighed.

“You know what I said about asking those kinds of questions,” Ella said. There was a pit in my stomach as soon as she said that. I backed away from her, remembering the threat from earlier.

“I…I’m sorry, I didn’t….I don’t……please, I…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, you not in trouble this time,” Ella said, “it's my fault for bringing that up in the first place.” she sighed again. “All I’ll let you know is that they give me news about what happens in that little town of yours. That's all I’m telling you about my job or why I’m here, nothing else. You already know too much, so don’t ask.”

“Um….so…..what can I ask about?” I asked,

“Anything that isn’t about what I am, or who I work for, or what I do, or why I’m here,” Ella said, “and nothing annoying,”

“Um…so….what do you…” I think about how to phrase this sentence for a moment, “what do you do apart from work? Like…to pass the time?”

“Books, radio, playing cards, going on walks…” the giant answered.

“Um….were you…on a walk last night?” I asked,

“No, I was….” Ella sighed, “that's not important,”

“Ok…” I nodded. Whatever she was doing last night must have had something to do with her job, which she doesn’t want me to know anything about. I decided to change the topic,

“So…I'm guessing you don’t have any…technology…here…”

“It would just break here, anyways,” Ella said,

“...break?” I asked. Ella was silent for a moment again. I heard her cursing to herself before looking back at me.

“Do you know what an EMP is?” she asked,

“...no?” I said.

“Good.” Ella turned away from me with her arms crossed. I looked up at her. She looked stern and closed off. The room went back to silence, as more rain hit the windows and thunder roared outside. The lights would dim and brighten occasionally from the weather. I swallowed my spit and spoke again.

“Is this place…usually like this?” I asked,

“What are you talking about?” Ella said,

“...quiet……”

“Well, it would be, if you weren’t here,” the giant looked down at me.

“Don’t you ever get….bored? Um….lonley?” I asked,

“I’m fine alone,” Ella said. “And my job keeps me from being bored,”

“....um…” I paused for a moment, “...sorry, it’s kinda hard…not to ask about your job…”

“Well maybe just don’t ask about anything,” She said,

“....do you just….live here alone?” I asked,

“Alright, I’m sick of this,” Ella said, grabbing me off of the window sill. I nearly fell as she readjusted her grip around me. She carried me back to where the couch was, but kept me in her hands as she sternly stared down at me with her massive eyes.

“Now I’m going to ask you some questions, how does that sound?” She asked.

“I…uh,” I could hardly get my words out. Her thumb was wrapped around my arms, and her other hand had a tight grip on my legs, preventing me from kicking or squirming.

“So, you're an orphan, right? How’d your parents die?” She asked, clearly just trying to be insensitive towards me on purpose.

“Uh, they went missing in this forest…when I was a baby….” I said, not wanting her anymore angry at me anymore.

“Interesting, do you have a last name, Quincy?”

“Um, I think they said…it was Mora…” I said, “Q-Quincey Mora,”

“Any idea what happened to your parents when they went missing?”

“N-no…no one does…” I said,

“Really? No idea?” She said as if being rhetorical, “Do you think something like that could happen to you? Like, you could just go missing, and never be found, and no one would know what happened to you?

“Um…maybe?” I answered, my heart now racing. She squeezed her hand around me more,

“Would you want that to happen to you?” she asked, bringing me closer to her face,

“N-no ma’am,” I said, my head spiraling in fear. “Did….are you…what made those people go missing?” she squeezed me tighter for my question. I let out a small yelp of pain.

“Stop asking things, Quincy. You know I can make you regret it very easily,” Ella said, still stern, glaring down at me almost with disgust. “Don’t make things worse for yourself. Just stay quiet, and stop asking questions, kid. If you do, things will be worse for you. Much worse. Understand?”

She said that last part with such malice. The sound buzzed through my throat and my lungs as she spoke just feet away from me. I hesitated to speak.

“i…I…but…”

“Do you understand?” she repeated herself, even louder and more harshly than before. Her voice caused my heart to drop. She squeezed me harder, to the point where it actually started to hurt. My eyes widened in fear and pain.

“OK! OK, I’M SORRY! PLEASE LET GO OF ME, PLEASE!” I yelled.

“Alright then,” the giant said, dropping me out of her hands. I landed on my arm, the couch barely cushioning my fall. I immediately ran and hid behind a pillow on the side of the bench. I lost control of myself, I started crying and holding my body, shaking in fear of the giant looming over the large pillow I was hiding under.

“Geez, overreacting much?” Ella said before she heard me weeping. Wait, are you…crying?” She stood up from the couch and got on her knees, looking at me in between the pillow and the side of the couch it was leaning against. I backed away from her, still crying. She started to look guilty,

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you that upset, I just..” Ella paused for a moment, while I kept crying, “I wasn’t acually going to hurt you or anything like that, I just..I was fibbing, I just didn’t want you to ask me those things. Just, come on out of there, ok?”

The giant reached towards me. I backed against the back of the couch and hugged my legs while covering my face with them. She looked even more sympathetic than before.

“Hey, I..I’m being honest, I don’t want to hurt you, really. You’re just…” she paused for a moment like she just realized something. “You're just a kid.”

I kept crying. She sighed and looked down, before getting up and walking away from the couch, leaving me to cry alone.

[miniscule-meow]

Isabell and the Lads CH 2: The Healing Process (2.4)

Writing Masterpost First Part | Last Part | Next Part Word Count: ~2.1k Warnings: Angst, blood mention, injury mention, nightmares, talk of dehumanization

---

Isabell lays down on the tiny couch, letting herself sink into the cushions. Just for a moment, she thinks,, resting her head on the plush pillow and hugging her arms around herself. I can be cozy for a little while. She watches the movie play with bleary eyes, and her blinks begin to grow longer and longer.

She’s not going to fall asleep here.

She couldn’t possibly let herself fall asleep here.

Not in the middle of a gigantic room, displayed in the center of a coffee table with two humans lingering nearby. That’s not going to happen. No chance.

She’s just going to rest her eyes for one second.

---

She floats in an endless expanse of nothing. Well, no, she’s not floating. She’s still solidly grounded, her leg anchors her to this table, taking away all her autonomy, her ability to move, to run, to escape. From her grounded position, the ‘endless expanse of nothing’ extends out all around her. The dark open space seems to stretch on forever. This only punctuates the fact that she is entirely other. Ever since she was caught- rescued? – Ever since she’s been out here in the open, with the humans, fully aware of her, she has been painfully, unavoidably aware that she does not belong in this world. Even with the best intentions at the heart of the humans around her, this world was simply not made for her. At best all she could ever hope to be is insignificant. A mild nuisance for anyone kind enough to pity her, perhaps. Of course, she is already well acquainted with what ‘at worst’ looks like for someone of her kind. It’s cages, it’s dehumanization, it’s the act of endlessly being observed. Placed in a plastic box, on a shelf, to be a curiosity for all those who pass by.

She briefly registers Zeke’s form kneeling over her. She manages to blink up at him with hazy eyes, not entirely convinced that she’s not just dreaming this. He seems to move in slow motion as he reaches forward to drape a blanket over her.

Shards of thoughts float to the forefront of her mind as she shifts to pull the blanket close around her.

Warm.

Soft.

Smells nice.

Her mind dances on the blade’s edge of consciousness. Dipping into the void of sleep, and yet remaining vaguely aware of the waking world around her, that horrible, never-ending openness. The vulnerability of her position never leaves the back of her mind. Somewhere inside her there should be instincts, alarms going off. There should be some semblance of self-preservation to pump her with more adrenaline, to keep her going, to push her just a little further. There should be. But it would seem as though her supply has run dry, and then some. Her body aches, her emotions are sapped, she has to face it, she’s already grasping at straws here. She’s already pushed her body well beyond the point of exhaustion. The consequence of that is that now, her body has relinquished the reigns from the part of her brain that holds her rational thought, the part of her that is responsible for keeping her safe, out of the hands of humans. Instead, the control is finally given over to sleep. Once sleep claims her, it digs its claws in deep.

And it is not kind when it lets her go.

Isabell wakes with a start, some unknowable amount of time later. In that split second before her mind catches up to her, a heavy fear pounces on her.

Where am I?

The room is dark. It’s massive. It’s a space for humans, and she’s in the open.

No, no, no.

As soon as she attempts to move, her whole body is wracked with pain. Her leg throbs, her ribs ache. There’s something tangled around her, ensnaring her.

Stuck. Trapped. Captured.

Despite great protest from every inch of her, she sits up. If she had just one second to breathe and take in her surroundings with a clear mind, she maybe could calm herself down. She could assure herself that she is safe.

But she doesn’t get that luxury. Out of the corner of her eye an impossibly large shadow rises over her. A human. Its eyes glint in the darkness and she knows that it is focused right on her.

She’s hurt, she’s vulnerable, out in the open, and she’s been spotted.  She does the only thing that sounds rational to her, she panics.

Isabell shoots to her feet, whirling around to face her captor. That’s her intention at least, unfortunately, she’s still tangled in the blanket. When she goes to correct herself, she places too much weight on her wounded leg. Her leg is of course tired of being pushed beyond its capabilities. Her leg is of course tired of her increasingly stubborn refusal of rest. So, her leg makes its own executive decision in that moment. It buckles underneath her weight, making her cry out with the shock of pain it delivers. Her leg demands rest and rest it will get. Even now, even one arm’s length away from the giant looming above her.

She crumples to the ground in a tangled heap, betrayed by her own body. The shadowy monstrosity leans forward, closing the distance between them. Leg or no leg, she’s not getting swept up into a massive hand today. She scrambles, kicking herself free from the blanket, and shoving herself backwards. She foolishly attempts to secure her footing once more. The effort is fruitless, and painful. Her leg simply refuses to cooperate.

“Hey,” the giant’s voice rumbling through her does little to calm her nerves.

She continues attempting to abscond. Her mind is focused on creating any kind of distance between herself and the looming creature. So focused in fact that she doesn’t see that she’s running out of table, until she’s already falling. She lets out a sharp yelp as she’s pulled over the edge. The human curses and instantly there’s a cacophony of sound and movement. The human lurches forward, much faster than a being that large should reasonably be able to move. One massive hand slaps down against the face of the table, the other swoops in beneath her. She lands flat against the center of his palm, knocking the wind out of her, but leaving her otherwise unharmed. Suddenly, she feels as if she’s falling in the opposite direction as she’s yanked through the air, entirely out of her control. His warm, leathery fingers curl around her securely. She can’t possibly just sit here and wait for him to squeeze the life out of her, she needs to act, now.

She has no weapon, she can’t escape. She twists in his grasp and sinks her teeth into the nearest digit until a hot metallic taste filters into her mouth.

The giant swears again, jerking his hand away sending her tumbling into his other hand. Before she can even think about defending herself, the human is ready for her. He clamps his massive thumb down across her middle, pinning her back against his fingers. The side of his thumb digs firmly into her bruised ribs. She sucks in a sharp, pained breath. He stands to his full height and strides across the room.

Isabell’s breathing staggers, her mind flooding with all of the gruesome possibilities of what’s yet to come.

“N-no!” She cries out, her voice breaking with panic, “I-I’m sorry. I’ll be good! I’ll be good, I swear!” She doesn’t want to go in a jar, she doesn’t want to be stuffed in the back of a dark closet without food or water or light for days on end. She doesn’t want to be-

A light clicks on, jerking her fully into the reality of the waking world.

“Stop,” Zeke’s voice is firm. He gazes down at her with wild eyes, his hair tousled, one hand clutched close to his chest.

All at once she realizes where she is, and against all odds, part of her stills at this revelation.

Then all at once she realizes what trouble she caused, and she can feel panic and dread welling up inside her chest all over again.

“I- Zeke, I’m –” she begins stammering out an apology.

“No,” his tone is clipped, “stop.”

Oh, he’s mad. He’s got to be. What is he going to do to her? He’s going to retaliate, humans always do. They only have so much patience, and she bit him. She’s displeased him so many times in the last two days or however long it’s Been. He’s got to be at the end of his rope with her.

He sets his hand down on the coffee table. Releasing his thumb from across her midsection, he tilts his hand so she gently slides off.

“Just… breathe,” he says rising and extending a hand to give her a gesture that very clearly says ‘stay there.’ With that, he walks off down the hall.

She blinks, piecing together the whirlwind she just went on, separating fact from fiction.

Isabell pulls herself onto the couch, gathering her discarded blanket. This doesn’t look like it belongs with the sets of doll clothes and furniture. Zeke must have made this, she realizes. He made me a blanket, and I bit him. A weird sense of guilt burns at the edge of her consciousness. She’s felt a lot of things concerning humans, but guilt was never one of those feelings.

Zeke comes back into the room after clattering around in the kitchen for a moment. When he returns he’s carrying a few things, but she can’t get a good look at what he has. He kneels down beside the coffee table.

“Drink this,” he says, setting a tiny cup down. The bright pink vessel is only slightly oversized for her. They must have gotten that today with all of the doll stuff.

She hesitates for a moment, looking at the cup placed in front of her with a dull suspicion.

“It’s just water,” his tone is flat, impatient. Right, of course, nothing gets past him. Great, now she’s bitten him, and she’s subtly accused him of trying to poison her.

“Sorry,” she obediently drinks the water, not wanting to upset him any more than she already has.

“Do you want to splash some water on your face?” He asks, setting down a small dish. As he reaches forward, she catches that his finger has a small Band-Aid on it now. She tears her eyes away from his hand, feeling that weird sensation of guilt again. She nods numbly and scrubs her face with the cool water placed before her.

“Better?” He asks after she’s dried her face off with a scrap of washcloth. She doesn’t trust her voice, so she just nods. “Here. Try to eat something.” The snack Marcus said he was going to make was resting on a plate close by, she didn’t even notice it before. Zeke slides it over to her. There’s a variety of things on the plate, some peanut butter, a cracker broken up into manageable pieces for her, some cheese, and some small bits of fruit. With a trembling hand, she assembles herself a small snack and nibbles on it cautiously.

Seemingly satisfied, Zeke heaves a long sigh, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. He leans his elbow against the table, resting his head on his hand. Her eyes are drawn back to the scattered pictures decorating his arms, his tattoos he called them. Humans are so strange, but she thinks she likes his tattoos. In a strange way, they make him easier to look at. Like, she can focus on this one small part of him, without having to confront the entirety of him.

“I, um, I didn’t know where I was,” she explains sheepishly to the picture of a broken wishbone placed near the middle of his forearm. “I’m, um, I’m fine now,” she adds, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders. This isn’t exactly true, she’s jittery, and she hurts everywhere, but the human doesn’t exactly need to know all that. It’s unclear whether or not he buys it or not, but he nods anyway.

“I’m sorry for startling you so badly,” he says quietly.

“It’s okay. Um, thank you for not letting me fall… I’m… sorry that I bit you.” Silence hangs between them. “A-are you… are you going to put me back, um, back in the box?” She stammers the question out, wincing at how small she sounds.

“No. Isabell, of course not,” he says, his voice softening.

[glitched-username]

Mystic Training

The autism won and just spent the past couple days powering through writing a 10 page tmnt g/t fanfic like my life depended on it. This is mostly self indulgent because I would've loved to see mystic Raph more in the show and also would've love to see more on how the power works

cw: there's a bit of messing around with mystic Raph's mouth for a couple paragraphs but mostly in the way to how a dentist poke's around someone's mouth

Word count: 4522

-----------

“You did WHAT with your powers?!” Mikey practically pounced on Raph’s shoulders as the four walked back to the lair.

“I know, right?! It was the craziest thing I've ever seen! You should've been there!”

“I would've loved to but Mikey and I were forced to handle that backstabbing, tried-to-steal-my-tech, traitorous, smug -”

“Man! I wish it was me and Raph on the roof, I would kill to see a giant super powered mystic Raph!” Mikey felt Raph stiffen his shoulders.

“Mikey… Leo had to get thrown off the roof for me to catch him like that…” Donnie paused mid rant at Raph's words, trailing a few paces behind.

“Okay, but if you did it once, can't you do it again? Unless there's a sort of quote unquote mystic cool down that prevents you from using that full power, there shouldn't be anyone stopping you now.” That caught the attention of the others as eyes moved from Donnie to Raph expectantly. 

“Huh? I mean, I don't even know HOW I did it, just that I… had to? I don't know, it was mostly just a feeling I guess.” Raph sheepishly grinned, rubbing the back of his head. 

Mikey just dramatically slid off, landing on his feet in a slouch. “Awww man… oh wait! What if I-”

“You're not throwing yourself off a building to see if it works.” Raph grabbed Mikey by the back of his shell and tucked him under his arms to keep from running off.

“Hey! It was a joke! Leo, Donnie tell Raph I was joking!” Mikey playfully squirmed in Raph’s grip as they started moving again.

Leo nudged Mikey’s side as Donnie took the lead up front “I don't know, you sounded pretty serious there~”

“Leo’s correct, and I'm the only one allowed to be funny in this family”

“You betray your own brother?! How could you!” Mikey threw his arms out and slumped forward. 

The four continued to make their way back home, Leo continuing to brag about how not only was he “right about spider lady” but also that he managed to make some killer portals. Donnie was mostly muttering to himself and fidgeting with his gauntlet about manufacturing artificial spider webs. And despite the theatrics of it all, Mikey was content with snuggling up to Raph’s side, more exhausted than anything but not being able to fall asleep.

Raph stayed a bit quieter than usual but he was probably just as drained as the rest.

It wasn't long before they made it back home, each splitting off to their own rooms for the night. Raph dropped a now sleeping Mikey off before all but collapsing out in his own room. Sleep was restless, was in and out, almost nonexistent and contained no dreams but it was something.

--------------------------------

“UP AND AT ‘EM RAPHALA!” 

“WHAT-HUH?!” Raph’s body practically launched itself out of bed and onto the floor before he could even realize he was awake. He pushed himself off the floor, now sitting up, looking at a now very excited Donnie with eye bags stronger than what his mask can cover up. Like he was giddily waiting for someone to ask. “What happened?!”

“Oh, Raph good you're awake! Well we have a BIG day scheduled for YOU mister. I've prepped for you to get 30 minutes to get yourself ready, dressed, eat, shower etcetera and THEN we are gonna be headed to the main atrium where we are gonna do nothing BUT crack this infuriating figurative mystic code of your power!” 

Raph, who was barely paying attention to what Donnie was saying, mostly just falling back asleep now that there's no threat, suddenly shot awake when Donnie said that last bit. “My power? Well, normally you know I'm all down for training, but this early?” 

“Yes, of course this early because we have so many different factors both physical and… eugh… emotional… that could each individually play a part in understanding what you do that activates that, to quote Mikey, giant super powered mystic Raph.” Donnie was now right by Raph grabbing his arm and trying to lead him out the room. “Now come on, you now have 28 minutes to get ready before we start!”

Raph just stood up and pulled his arm back, resulting in Donnie falling to the ground. 

“Relax D, we just got done fighting two boss villains, I think we need a day.” Raph stepped a bit closer, now noticing the dark purple eye bags. “You too, did you spend all last night working on this “schedule” thing?”

“Long exasperated groan, why yes my dearest brother, I did, because apparently I'm more interested in understanding your own powers than you.” Donnie gave a huff, standing indignantly at that last bit. “Like come on, you barely talked about it outside of “I don't know how it works”, I know if any of us developed some crazy power we didn't know how to use or control you would be the FIRST to want them to figure it out.”

“Yeah but that was different, we knew nothing about our powers back then, this is just an added thing to the stuff I do know how to do.”

“And you're telling me you DON’T want to know how to use a power like that, one that has been shown to have incredible strength and durability from what I've heard?”

“Yes because I'm totally fine with what I have now and do NOT need to use that powerup.”

“I don't understand, then you should want to know how it works so you can choose to avoid activating it if you want-”

“-Just… stop, I don't wanna talk about it this early in the morning”

There were several moments of silence and Raph was about to tell Donnie to go to bed again before “Well, alright then, my offer still stands and I will be in the main atrium if you wish to participate.” And with that, Donnie turned on his heels and walked out at a brisk pace

Raph just rubbed his fingers against his temple and flopped back onto his bed. He didn't sleep, staying lost in thought.

An hour later he mustered the strength to pull himself back up, getting his mask, wrappings and reluctantly his tonfas and exited his room.

“You're out of bed late~” Raph looked and to the left of his room was Leo, who’s lax attitude immediately set off Raph’s ‘Leo’s planning something’ alarm.

“Yeah, hardly, the Mad Scientist woke me up an hour ago for some… science thing.” 

“Eh, you know what I mean.” Leo leaned his weight on Raph's shoulder, “Actually, speaking of said ‘Mad Scientist’ and he seemed pre-tty ticked that you were “fine with living in ignorance of your own capabilities'' and is mostly just ranting to himself. Sicced Mikey on him before heading up here to get the nerd to cool off.”

Raph took a deep breath, “I didn't mean to upset him, I just… don't think that this should be the top priority with all the oozquitos free again.” Leo just hummed, cartoonishly nodding his head.

“Yeah of course, and it definitely has nothing to do with how you already know how this new powerup works or anything.” He confidently said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“W-What?! How did you-  mean, I have no idea what you're talking about.” Raph folded his arms, suddenly finding the right side of the lair to be extremely interesting to look at.

“Well, I mean if that little bit of Shakespeare didn't give it away then that whole beef with Donnie definitely did.” Raph slumped at being caught. “I mean, you're telling me that you don't want to know how a power THAT awesome works? Yeah I'm not buying it. You love showing off during training and fights. So spill. Don’t make me drag Mikey over here, we both know it’s impossible to keep secrets from those puppy eyes.” Leo took a step back from Raph, waiting for a response.

“... Promise you won’t tell them?” Raph barely whispered.

“I’m not your parent, not the older brother and most importantly, not a narc, I’m not gonna rat you out. I don’t know, take it as… a blood pact, except replace the “blood” with “falling off one of the biggest buildings in New York”.”

Raph huffed but looked at and away from Leo rapidly, wringing his hands together trying to string together his next sentence. Leo was waiting, now leaned onto the wall.

“I just… don't want to hurt you guys…” The confession finally startled Leo, breaking the chill guy persona.

“Woah woah woah, what are you talking about? Hurt us?” Leo’s eyes widened “Wait, is one of us almost dying, really what causes the powerup?” It was now Raph’s turn to be shocked.

“No! No. it’s, I don't know, it took me so long to figure out how to get used to my own strength, even with the tonfas. I thought it got to where I had total control of my strength and powers.” Raph looked down at his hands, avoiding Leo. “And then that whole thing happened and it felt different than what I'm used to with the tonfas. Like it was my body but also not?” He looked at Leo. “I was going to grab you during the fall but I could barely even feel the wind so I thought that if I grabbed you…I wouldn't be able to tell… and I’d hurt you worse than what the fall would.”

Something dark flashed over Leo’s eyes for the briefest of moments before he quirked a lopsided smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Oh come on, big guy, you know we know you'd never hurt us, at least not in a way that requires the med bay.” He mostly muttered that last part to himself. 

“Yeah, but what about on accident, it's happened before!” 

“Do you know how many times I've accidentally hurt myself on the skate ramp? Way more than the times you've hurt us, and we STILL keep that thing around! And you know what we do to stop getting injured on the skate ramp?” Leo was now back to his smug self, nudging Raph's side with a smirk on his face “Come on, it's one of your top 5 favorite words… starts with a T~”

Raph gave a defeated huff and soft smile “We train… Man, when did you decide to be the mature one?”

“Hey! I’m ALWAYS the mature one! I’m just making sure that our fearless leader doesn’t lose that title over being scared about nothing!” Leo wrapped his arm around Raph's and began to lead him to the atrium, “now let's go tell the Egg Head the good news that we don't need his excel spreadsheet of “reasons for Raph's powerup" !"

--------------------------------

“Tell me EXACTLY how it works! I have the spreadsheet up to compare how correct any of my hypotheses are.”

All four brothers gathered in the atrium, and Raph was struggling to not feel singled out especially when he was in fact singled out. He took a breath.

“I don't know how to really phrase it? I know that I'm able to do it and there's nothing holding me back, but just that there used to be something holding me back? And now that the thing holding me back is gone… I can just… do it now? Sorry, that's just the best way I can phrase it.”

There was a beat of silence before Donnie powered up his gauntlet and frantically began scrolling through it. It took Leo and Mikey a few seconds later to figure it out though.

“Waitwaitwait, was you saving me what got rid of that “thing holding you back”?”

Raph silently nodded. Mikey just threw his arms around Raph the best he could.

“Awww! You hear that? Raph loves us so much he got a new power from it!” Raph just chuckled, wrapping his arms around Mikey. 

“‘Course Raph loves you guys, no matter how much you annoy me…” Raph buried his head into Mikey’s shoulders who in turn gave a few happy chirps.

Leo playfully wrapped an arm around Raph. “Or it happened cause if anyone's gonna be able to take me out it's gonna be one of you, not some freaky goat man.”

Raph looked up a bit at Leo with a warm smile, then back at Mikey. “See what I mean?”

“NO! THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE! CURSE YOU MYSTIC POWERS! I WILL FIGURE YOU OUT AND WHEN I DO, YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU DARE-” 

“- Donnie, buddy, we’re having a moment.” Donnie shot his eyes up at Leo’s words and looked towards the other three, staring but mostly used to the “out of context scientific outbursts”. “Awkward cough, right, of course. WELL, the spreadsheet was a total bust so I spent all night working on nothing, and I really need another coffee--even though MIKEY won’t let me have anymore--so how about we move right on to phase 2!” He dramatically held up 2 fingers.

“You need to have something other than caffeine! Also what’s phase 2?”

“Why I'm so glad you asked, dear Angelo!” Donnie pointedly ignored the first part. “Raph, if you would please do the honors and make a full body projection as large as you are able--without damaging the lair or breaking anything please.”

“What? Why can't I, you know, just make one a tiny bit bigger than me?” Raph let go of Mikey and was looking nervous all over again.

“Because, Raphael, it'll be easier and faster in the long run if we start off with an extreme in the opposite direction opposed to starting with the least extreme version so that any sort of differences and general changes to how you and your body interact and interpret the world are easier to notice and document.” There was a moment and then, “Larger body equals more detail and less work later on.” Nods and general agreement. 

“Okay, okay, just… stand back, like a lot, cause I don’t wanna hurt you guys, even by accident… just in case.” As the group of three made their way to a nearby hallway, Raph just sighed and rolled his eyes as Leo gave him the biggest smirk he's seen on the slider’s face. Raph is guaranteed to never hear the end of how “he was right two days in a row! This needs to be a national holiday!”.

Raph moved over to the center of the room and pulled out his tonfas like he normally would. It was unusually silent outside of the frantic typing on Donnie’s gauntlet. Raph was usually so eager to show off how much better he’s gotten with his powers, but this time it felt different. Maybe because it was less of a training session or maybe unsure of the outcome of this experiment. Either way, he took a breath and let the energy spark and flow around him.

The projection grew at a slow but steady pace, tinting the area in a warm red. Donnie was typing notes like his life depended on it, Mikey was looking ahead, almost star-struck and Leo despite the smugness, was keeping an eye on Raph, who was nervous but didn’t look like he was gonna completely freak out.

Occasionally Raph adjusted positions when getting too close to a wall or ramp, finally stopping at around 30ish feet or so when the projection’s shoulders started to get a bit too close to both sides of the room. His brothers noticed the change and took that as an invitation to step back in the room.

Mikey came barreling towards Raph, stopping a few feet away. “Wooahhh! THIS IS SO COOL! Hey, Leo, was he this big when he caught you?” The box turtle was bouncing on his feet, more excited to be seeing the mystic form than hearing an actual answer.

Leo casually strolled up. “He was actually a biiiit bigger, but y’know, this is cool too” Mikey lightly jabbed Leo on his side, who just laughed and moved his eyes from Mikey to Raph “What about you Big and Red? How’s the weather up there? Man, I’ve been holding that one in since last night.” Raph just gave a nervous thumbs up, keeping his arms close to his chest.

Almost hyper aware of how small his brothers were, more than usual, Raph shifted slightly trying to find a good spot to sit down.

“Waiteaitwait! Don't sit yet! I still have to take measurements!” Raph immediately stopped, letting Donnie fly from head to toe, gingerly moving his arms for a measurement of his arm span. 

“Incredible it's perfectly proportioned and scaled to your exact measurements! Down to the tiniest of millimeters! But since I know only I will appreciate the exact measurements, your current height is 33 feet and 5 inches.” 

“Oh! That’s uh-”

“AND YOU CAN SPEAK THROUGH THE PROJECTION?!” Donnie flew up to Mystic Raph’s face and began poking around. “Hm, it's transparent but not with itself.” Donnie touched Mystic Raph’s face and was mostly staring through the projection rather than at it. Raph just let him poke and prod, rambling away, slowly getting used to the sensations. The numb, barely noticeable feelings slowly becoming clearer and with more weight.

“I can see through the face to the rooms and hallways but I can’t see the mask tails. If he were completely transparent (with the red and white outlines) I would be able to see everything…let’s see… hmm… guess there’s only one way to check if it's more mystic nonsense making you speak or some actual biology for once… Raph, open your mouth.” Aaaand any getting used to the new body was immediately brought to a screeching halt.

“WHAT?! I'm not gonna-” but Donnie already propped his tech bo in the projection’s mouth, keeping it jammed open. It felt insanely weird to have the mystic body restrained in some way while Raph’s physical body was just stuck with his mouth open. It felt even weirder when Donnie stuck half of his body inside and started to poke and prod around again, metal arms from his battle shell keeping the scientist in place.

Raph was deathly still, not even moving to grab his very smart but VERY dumb brother. He didn't know whether to feel glad his brother trusted him enough to get away with doing such a stupid action or terrified over the (extremely low) possibility of accidentally biting down. All he could do was give a pleading look down at Mikey and Leo for help. 

The slider took initiative after a bit, laughing as he made his way up to the floor near Raph's face. “Wow D, and here I thought you were the biggest germaphobe in the family~” 

Donnie didn't get out and instead just pointed a metal finger at Leo. “Jokes on you, I've already accounted for that!” The soft shell turned slightly, a mad scientist-like grin across his face. “While observing Mystic Raph’s face I noted that there was no moisture forming on eyes. None of the sheen and shine that comes with tear duct production. Eyes without said tear duct production need constant use of eye drops to remain functional and undamaged, so if the eyes can look and function like normal eyes while producing no moisture then it stands to reason that there is no saliva, blood or any other sticky gross disgustingness, and I was right!” 

Looking quite proud of himself, Donnie moved to stick his head back in when Mikey swung up and landed on Raph’s head, looking down at Donnie a bit sheepishly. 

“Uh, Donnie, maybe you should get out of there? Real Raph hasn't been able to close his mouth and it's probably not the most comfortable feeling.” That seemed to snap Donnie out of his smugness, looking down at Raph and then back at the tech bo.

“Ah, sorry. Let me just…” Donnie carefully pulled out the bo staff, and even though Raph flinched from the sudden shift, Donnie didn't, instead just retracting the spider arms, having the battle shell pull himself out and flying down to Mystic Raph’s middle “It didn't occur to me that you could feel or even have your physical body restrained whenever the mystic body was.”

“It's fine, just don't do it again, or since I know that you're probably gonna do it again anyway, just let me know BEFORE, please?” Raph adjusted his jaw for a moment before looking back down at Donnie who just nodded vigorously, “Guess that's what we're figuring out with this anyway, just how this” he gestured to himself, careful not to jostle Mikey too much, “whole situation works… did you find anything out doing that incredibly stupid thing at least?” 

“Ah yes! It seems that this form does have the same biology as yourself, a working setting of vocal cords being one of them. But a couple things before I go on. One, I grant you permission to sit down now if you wish, and Two,” Donnie’s eyes flickered to both the Mystic Raph’s face and then Real Raph’s “would it be easier if we talked closer to the projection’s head or your own”

“Oh, I mean, I guess I can see out of my real body if I try hard enough but it's easier to see out of the other body’s eyes.” Raph explained while carefully moving to a sitting down position, leaning comfortably on the skate ramp. 

Mikey kept his same spot on Mystic Raph’s head but went to lay down and Leo jumped from the spot near Raph’s head and sat on his shoulder, casually leaning against his neck. He whispered in Raph's ear so the box turtle couldn't hear “Told you that you were freaking out over nothing, you couldn't hurt us even if you wanted to. We honestly cause you more problems like this than you ever could.” Raph didn't give a verbal reply but Leo felt the shoulders stiffen and head gently lean on the slider just the tiniest amount. “Welp! Now that we’re all comfy n’stuff, we give you full permission to rant about the nerd stuff you found out, Don Tron.”

That got Donnie to perk right up and he spent the next half hour gushing about all the details ranging from how “the body less of a suit of armor shaped like Raph and more like an exact mirror image”, to how “since Mystic Raph can feel touch and experience other sensory input then his mystic power must be connected to his nervous system”. In short, this wasn’t a mystic power up of Raph, this was an extension of him, like an arm or a leg. Mystic Raph IS Raph and that thought made something warm and happy bubble in his chest. 

Past that, the other three weren’t thinking too hard about the specifics, but they were comfortable, and despite the early hours, after yesterday, still needed the rest, so they mostly just let Donnie info-dump the whole time (with a few light-hearted jabs thrown in here and there) about any minor or interesting fact the soft shell found out about Raph.

After a bit, Donnie’s pace began to slow and Raph immediately caught on, surprising himself when he offered his hands for the soft shell to land and relax on. Donnie insisted that he was still wide awake but took the offer anyway and promptly passed out a few minutes later. Raph gently moved Donnie towards Leo who removed the battle shell and placed it on the upper floor nearby. The three remaining brothers tried to fight off the lingering exhaustion of last night, “Guess Donnie and me weren't the only one to miss sleep…” but without any craziness to “ooo” and “aaa” at, sleep managed to claim the rest of Raph’s brothers one by one.

The four of them were all contently laying together now, Donnie carefully held close to his plastron, his hands providing the same amount of comfortable pressure as a weighted blanket. Leo squirmed and shifted around a lot but eventually settled for between the back of Raph’s neck and his shell, a spot that Leo’s back will definitely regret later. And Mikey migrated to the crook of Raph’s chin, finding security in the giant snapping turtle resting his head over Mikey as well as the gentle breathing beneath.

Raph on the other hand was more focused on the new, and admittedly amazing sensations that came with this new mystic form. Touch felt different but not in a foreign way anymore. It wasn’t a scary, numb tingle that was with touch but was more like a warm buzz. Almost as if the feeling his body was registering as touch was energy as opposed to wood or metal or brothers. Realizing this made Raph relax even more, a content and gentle rumble emanating from the giant body. He was about to fall asleep when his eyes snapped open. What was he doing, he can’t sleep like this, not with his brothers all over him, what if he rolls over in his sleep, what if he puts too much pressure on Donnie, or leans his head back too much and hurts Leo, or Mikey’s limbs get caught in his plastron, or-

A tiny, gentle hand gave a few pats to Raph’s neck. “It’s okay Raph, you’re not gonna hurt us, you can sleep if you want… unless you got something against afternoon naps…” Mikey turned over a bit and looked up at a slightly panicked Raph, who was trying his best to look back, “How can you say you're scared of your own strength when you’re more gentle now than you’ve ever been…” Recollection of a similar conversation popped into Raph’s head.

“Leo told you, huh?” The tiniest of whispers, barely audible unless you were right in front of Raph’s face, which Mikey thankfully was. The tiny turtle gave a huffed laugh.

“No one can keep secrets from my puppy eyes~” A few more pats to the neck, “but are you really okay with this? I don’t want to think that we forced you into testing this out…” Raph’s eyes widened.

“No, it’s fine, really, those two were right anyway, I needed to get used to it now before I might need to use it later. Just don’t tell them I said that, their egos have already skyrocketed the past couple days…” Raph saw Mikey give a fond smile, his eyes closing again, humming softly as he turned to get comfy again.

“Hmm, think about how cool it’ll be to use this during fights or brother ball or-”

“Heh yeah, okay okay, still gotta get used to this whole thing for now… go get some sleep, you all need it…” Mikey just snuggled up against Raph’s neck. His little brother wanted to fight sleep but was losing that battle.

“You… first…” Raph’s eyes softened as the box turtle fell back asleep. After a few moments of peaceful quiet, he curled up slightly against all his brothers and finally joined the rest, rumbling softly and contently the entire time.

[pool-floatie]

Tall Tales: part 7

lets goooo 💯💯🔥

Ok I love this cause its raining rn and I was writing a scene where its raining and its night and now IRL its r a i n i n g and its n i g h t it's like im a manifestation wizard you should all cower, oh by the way heres the rest of that fic i promised ya (I didnt promise you shit, this exists only because i am a merciful and kind God.)

Also lets play a little game of spot the metaphor/ hidden message!! Its pretty obvious if you know anything about literature !! Good luck!!

Avril woke to the surrounding warmth of the giants hand, giving them blissful comfort from the chill of their new surroundings. They wriggled around to get a better look. Kneeling, they peeked out of the large hand; A cave big enough to hold the giant at full height sheltered the pair from the slowing patter of rain outside, a shallow breeze blew through the large entrance, keeping the cave almost as cold as the outside. At least it was a bit less wet, they thought.

Avril felt a small twitch of Jaces' fingers; apparently, their stirring had awoken him.

They sunk down lower, making sure they wouldn't be knocked off if the giant made any sudden movements.

Big, drowsy, half lidded eyes blinked open, slowly landing on the little thing in Jaces palm.

Avril gave a tentative wave. Jace let out a small puff of air from his nose, smirking.

As cute as they were when asleep, he loved the humans shyness, though he was sure that eventally he would get them to come out of their shell, he had seen their spunk before, a real person behind the mask of fear.

"Mornin' " he sighed, stretching his free limbs out.

" .. Hi.." Av uttered quietly

Jace sat up slowly, minding the little being he held.

He sat up against the cave wall and admired his tiny companion. They were wonderful, short, blonde, ruffled hair framed their face and brown doe eyes looked up at him adorably.

" you sleep well, av ?" he asked, though he wanted to ask a more open question, it seemed the simple 'yes/no' questions were easier for them, baby steps.

" Mhmm" they replied

" Great " he sighed

Loking out of the cave jace saw that the rain had nearly stopped.

" hey, not sure if your too much of a morning person but, the suns about to rise... Did you wanna come watch?"

They thought for a moment, sure not being awake at the literal crack of dawn would be nice but...

" .. Yeah, sure"

Jace beamed

"Sweet. And, hey... I, I know I was, absolutely awful to you... Before.. I just, i guess I got carried away but I hurt you, I didnt even realise cause' ive never actually met a human" he rambled

" but I know that's not an excuse for hurting you and making you scared and being a complete dickbag, so, Avril, im Sorry. Im sorry for hurting you and im sorry that I teased you and-"

He was scilenced by a touch on his thumb.

" ... Jace, its - well its not ok, but, , well- thank you."

He hadnt even realised he was crying.

Jace smiled through teary eyes.

"No, thank /you/ for... Well for a second chance." he said

Av paused for a moment.

" yeah,,, a second chance" they said

Jaces smile grew and he wanted to hug the human through any means, but he reisisted knowing it would probably freak them out.

"Oh hey, it, uh, stopped raining..." avril said, breaking the scilence.

Stepping towards the entrance of the cave the two saw the sun begin its ascent into the new sky, lighting up the previously dreary dwelling to reveal a new side to it.

Outside the cave the rain left dewdrops on everything, turning the scene into a shimmering chandelier. It hilighted the mossy green rocks, cracked from age that sat just outside the cave, beyond lie a beautiful willow tree that framed the caves entrance. Rain dripped from its leaves and tapped a slow rythm on the ground

Pip, pip, pip.

A small breeze blew past, carrying the blooming scent of nature and rusting the willows leaves.

The birdsong slowly began to crescendo, announcing a new day to the rest of the forest and all who inhabited it.

Jace briefly looked away to see avrils reaction, they were enthralled, wide eyes taking in every gorgeous detail as they stood leaning off the side of Jaces' cupped hand trying to take in as much as they could.

" its beautiful..." they said, unable to look away lest they miss a single second of the mornings beauty.

"Amazing what nature does, you cant find this stuff anywhere else." Jace replied, equally enthralled.

" Thank you" avril said

" thank you? For what?"

Av thought for a moment.

" just.... This."

Jace smiled, he knew what they meant.

" yeah, of course."

The sun rose higher as the wind slowed and the pair continued admiring the stunning morning.

" hey, seems pretty clear now, you want to head back ?" jace asked

" yeah, sounds good" av said, plopping down into the massive plam and resting their arms on the cupped edges.

Jace began the trek back, following the river upstream.

"Hey, humans eat fish, right?" he questioned

"Uh yeah, what, you got a fishing pole my size?" av joked

"oh, much better" he hinted

Av turned and quirked a brow at the giant.

" what?" he said innocently

Av rolled their eyes, whatever awaited them would surely be an adventure.

[mayday396]

Somewhere in the Forest

A little kid known as Seth was taking a Stroll, he wasn't able to do any of that due to his job and well life so he just wants to take a break from all of that as he began humming a tune to himself while walking through the ever snowing Mountains Forests.

There wasn't anything dangerous at the moment but still kept his Dagger with him, it could be Large Animals to Shifting Beasts, but worst of all Giants.That's his Job, he is a Giant Slayer, nothing weird just a 10 years old Olive skinned toned, Black colored eyed, and Dark Brown haired boy with a fit body wearing a Sap Green Cloak with a Fluffy Hoodie made from the Fur of Bears, he wore Leather Armor and thick coat over it too as the Temperatures at Svyatogor Mountains were almost Subzero.

But despite the Cold, he calmly walked through the Woods enjoying his day off until he heard and felt a Tremor beneath his feet, "Tch...What now?" He cautiously placed his hand on his hilt as he began walking fast away from the tremor as much as possible, staying calm and assessed his situation as he held his Dagger slowly tying a rope on the handle just in case he needed to swing his Weapon.

Seth looked left and Right, Up and down then right behind him before feeling rough surfaces touch his little body, he instantly turned around and stabbed one of the Giant's Clawed fingers then pulled out his blade and stabbed another, the Giant growled loudly in pain.

He swung his blade via the Rope, it flew and wrapped the Middle finger with the Rope and the Blade stabbed through his Finger and he pulled him up, Seth was sent flying through the air as he held the rope and was launched to the Air, spinning then pulling out the blade and grabbing it, he charged downwards to the Veins of the Giant's Arms with a battle cry, "HAAAHHHH!"

Just before he landed, the Giant grabbed him with his hands, which had 6 fingers, each into a fist, Seth managed to get his blade out and just about to plunge his dagger in the entrapment, he heard the Angriest Growl at him which filled him with Fear as he recognised it.

Out of his Slaying Trance, he gasped and as he placed his hand on his mouth as he shivered and said, "P-papa?"Looking about him, the Giant he was about to kill.A Pale White to Icy Blue Skinned, Eyes were Colored Gold and Black, Long wavy grey Bearded Old Man with a Thick and Muscular body, it wore light metal Armor and a large Prussian Blue cloak which covers most of his Face, he was very mad at his Human.

"P-papa...I...I'm so sorry..I-I didn't know I....I.."He held his head with hands over him in instinct, the Giant saw his little human acting this way again and well he felt bad, as he tried to comfort him placing his fingers over him caused him to flinch, "I'm sorry...I'm sorry I'm sorry please I'm sorry please no more! No more!-"He kept looping around those Words which really made his heart pang.

The Giant didn't mean it, he didn't mean to cause his little kid to experience those bad days again and Seth didn't mean to hurt him, that's what he was trained to do from the beginning, from before they met.The Giant opened his fist and held him in his palm, he placed his Fingers around and on Seth who squirmed and kick and kick his fingers as he trembled and breathed in and out violently.

The Giant knew there was only one way to Calm him and despite everything he did it, " sh...shh...s...shh"It was painful the very action of even attempting was excruciatingly hard, "Y..Yo..you..a..are...o..kay". "y..yo..u...se..th...a..re..s-s...a.fe"

"mw..p..pa..I..s..her..e..ah..uff"

Seth lifts his head as he nuzzles into the giant's just healed finger, begging him to stop as he hugs his finger tight, "Papa...s-stop...your throat..it's hurting again...please you're gonna hurt.. yourself"He touched the places he stabbed previously and looked up at him and said, "I'm...I'm sorry Papa"

The Giant simply gave a small smile and a kiss on the head, "I..t..o...kay"He said finally before feeling his throat, feeling their Fiery wounds in throat flare, he will to never to be free of such a scar, "Papa can we go home?"Seth looked at the giant who gave a simple smile before replying, " Mm" before placing Seth on his Shoulders and began descending down the Mountains of Svyatogor.

[munchkin1156]

Horror and Help

So, want to know what happens when I get g/t angst brainrot? Read under the cut. Warning, this chapter is mostly a panic attack, so please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable. Also contains mildly graphic death and blood, so sorry about that aswell. Enjoy!

Crack. Tailbiter watches in horror as her father's body is crushed between the humans fingers. If she squints, she can see his eyes roll back, but only for a moment as the hand envelopes his head too. Crunch. Blood leaks through the clenched fist, and she can only watch as the unhinged grin appears on the humans face as they open their palm. The borrower then looks away, she doesn't want to, she can't want to see what remained of him. She turns, ears flat against her head, tail poofed up, and ran.

Get to the walls walls bad human knows run get away get out of HERE-

Her thoughts screamed and she obeyed. It was snowing outside, but she didn't notice. Tears blurred her vision and the memory of her father dying to that- that monster played on repeat. The next few-? Minutes? Hours? Went by in a daze, she ran and ran, until all that was powering her was her adrenaline and then on she ran still when it had stopped.

She only slowed down once she couldn't run. Her breath was fast, and her fingers numb, and only then did Tailbiter realise exactly where she was. In a human street, alone, without supplies, and with snow coming in quickly, so quickly that she was soon half buried.

With all hope lost, the borrower curled in on herself. She cried silently on the ground as the snow fell around her, covering her entirely. Nothing mattered anymore. Everything was all a waste. The human had found them, and- and it was all her fault.

. . .

"Oh my god it's cold." Jader shivered as he walked through the snow. The pest control member sighed. He never liked his job, exterminating small creatures always made him feel guilty. But the pay was good, and he didn't want to starve. Something glinted in the corner of his eye, and he turned to look. Something in the snow? He knelt down to look. He brushed snow off it and it was...

"What?"

His first thought was a mouse. It was the same size as one, but... "That's not a mouse!? It can't be..." He muttered to himself. Mice didn't have long tails, or that kind of ears, and most importantly, mice didn't have clothes and humane features. They especially didn't wear gold necklaces. The... Tiny person, was freezing. It shivered, and was cold to the touch. Out of its mouth, blood trickled, and it's armed seemed twisted painfully. It seemed to have been crying. He would have to take it home, to help it. Jader was certain that he would help it no matter what, or at least try. He had to...

[afraidparade]

"More Human"

Word count: 1,892 Content warnings: just a teensy bit of angst (this one is really short and kind of aimless i just needed something domestic and cozy 👍)

__________________________

Afternoons like these weren’t entirely uncommon, but a welcome addition to any day as far as its two participants were concerned. Autumn breezes had steadily replaced the hot summer air in the past few weeks, and according to Luka, this was the “Goldilocks” area of perfect temperatures to keep the apartment windows cracked open. Not so hot that he couldn’t wear that oversized hoodie he insisted on donning even during the most sweltering days, but not so cold that they would wake up in the middle of the night shivering, even under several blankets. That was all well and good, but Faust still didn’t know what a Goldilocks was. It sounded edible, so he chose to believe it was delicious.

Admittedly, the tiny realm-hopper hadn’t taken much time to note the appeals of this season the first time he witnessed it. In his defense, Faust was somewhat preoccupied with other matters; adjusting to life on a foreign and gargantuan planet, concocting plans on how to destroy said planet, dealing with his all-too curious and annoying caretaker every minute of every day, the likes. Hell, he hadn’t even understood the concept of seasons until his first snow day. So it was nice to observe it this time, now that things were peaceful and Luka was…well, slightly less annoying. And as it turned out, there was a lot to like about fall.

The leaves had all blossomed into wonderful warm hues and gave off an earthy scent that Faust was quite fond of. It was somewhat hypnotic to watch them all twirl in the air whenever a particularly strong gust passed through the street, and if he was lucky, sometimes a stray leaf would land on the windowsill to their bedroom. He’d begun toting them inside and forming a rather formidable pile (well, formidable to a three-inch imp, perhaps), but in the interest of cleanliness and blah-blah-blah, Luka collected Faust’s findings and pressed them between the pages of a book. That was stupid. A scavenger’s bounty was meant to be displayed, not hidden from view in some dumb word prison. Humans truly knew nothing about honor. Or maybe Faust had just been watching too much anime.

On this particular afternoon, the pair had made themselves comfortable by laying across the bedroom’s mattress, not touching each other or sitting next to the other as they often did, but laying in opposite directions with their heads positioned close enough to converse comfortably. And perhaps they would be conversing, had they not both slipped into a relaxed silence without really intending to. Luka had put on a playlist of mellow yet catchy music a while ago, which filled the air as it played softly from his phone’s speaker at the foot of the bed. Neither was doing much in particular to occupy their time, content with staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought but reassured by the other’s company. And that was fine until it wasn't, an antsy Faust had decided. Luckily, he never found an issue when it came to breaking silence.

“Hey, it’s too quiet. Let’s talk about something,” the demon piped up, raising his arms upwards in a brief stretch before resting them beneath his head.

He could hear the human behind him shift a bit. Faust momentarily wondered if Luka had fallen into a light sleep during their period of quietness, and that the demand for conversation may have woken him up.

“Alright,” Luka replied, “What would you like to talk about?”

Faust’s lip curled into an annoyed frown. “I dunno. That’s why I brought it up to you, genius.”

There was an airy chuckle. “Ah, right. Sorry.”

A stretch of deliberate silence passed after that, only adding on to Faust’s frustration. “Why do I even bother with you?” he sighed with a click of his tongue. Seeing that Luka would be of no help whatsoever, he paused to think up a conversation topic on his own. He hummed a moment, staring up at a spot of light that reflected onto the ceiling in a prismatic halo. “Alright, how about this: if you could travel to any place on Earth, where would you go?”

There was a brief moment of wordless pondering. Faust wondered if Luka was staring at the same sunbeam he was. “Hmm… I’m already here,” was his simple answer.

The imp frowned, then considered the potential underlying meaning with that statement, and frowned even deeper, though this time a warm blush accompanied the scowl. “That doesn’t count. You know that’s not what I meant.”

Luka huffed a laugh through his nose at that response, clearly amused by the other’s flustered grumbling. “Well, I’m not really the adventurous type. I suppose it would be nice to stay in a woodsy cabin, maybe on a mountain. Somewhere peaceful and secluded, so you could explore freely, too.”

“Come on, I’m asking where you actually want to go, not just where it’s realistic and safe! Take me out of the equation and give me a real answer,” Faust pressed further, agitated by his companion’s inability to make a hypothetical decision.

“Why would I do that?” came Luka’s immediate reply. It made Faust freeze in place; something about the human’s tone seemed much more genuine than the light-hearted banter from a moment prior. “I wouldn’t want to go anywhere without you. There’s no more of a ‘real’ answer than that.”

There was a pause, and Faust was suddenly grateful for the soft music still playing from Luka’s phone that filled the silence. He wasn’t supposed to say that. And Faust hated that he did. Not because the sentiment upset him in any way; it was the opposite, really. Because he wouldn’t want Luka to go anywhere without him either, and the feeling of being truly, genuinely wanted — needed, even — was something so wonderful that he could have easily gotten drunk off of it. But even for as idealistic as Faust was, he knew that it wasn’t healthy. That he couldn’t alienate Luka from his own kind by depending on his constant company. That there was no future that allowed him to be so selfish.

It wasn’t the sentiment Faust hated so much, but the guilt that came from it. He was no stranger to the feeling, yet that never stopped the icy churning in his gut whenever it appeared.

“Is that really okay?” the demon asked in a small voice. Even if they were closer in size, a mutter like that would be difficult to hear, so he wasn’t sure the remark would reach Luka’s ears at all. But Faust didn’t really care. “Don’t you ever feel like…I’m holding you back?”

The mattress creaked and shifted, and even though Faust kept his gaze affixed to the ceiling, he could tell Luka was craning his neck to stare at his tiny roommate. “Is that what you think?” he asked softly. Not sternly, not sadly, just…somewhat hurt. And that made the writhing feeling double in intensity. The brunette sighed, taking the lack of response as a confirmation, then rolled to lay on his side.

“I think you might be overestimating me a little. Didn’t I just tell you that I’m not the adventurous type?” Luka asked with a sheepish laugh, “You can’t hold me back from something I don’t do in the first place.”

Faust crossed his arms, squeezing them tightly as he shrugged to himself. It made sense. He already knew Luka was a chronic introvert. Yet the guilt persisted regardless, as if his brain was trying to convince him that by merely existing, he was snuffing out any potential his companion had for a normal, fulfilling life. A human life. Something Faust could only dream of.

“That’s a naive way of thinking,” the smaller grumbled. Perhaps it was a tad harsh, but it wasn’t as though he’d ever had a problem speaking his mind before. “Just because you don’t doesn’t mean you won’t. You might change your mind someday. Might realize you’re taking it all for granted. There’s this whole world — an entire gargantuan planet — of humans, and they’re all different. Insane, confusing, unique…fascinating. And you may think to yourself one day that you wished you could talk to them, be with them, connect with them like humans were meant to. But you don’t, and you can’t, because…”

“Faust,” Luka interjected. Faust already knew what he would say, so he bit his tongue. “Are you sure we’re still talking about me?”

There was another lull of hushed stillness between them, the space of the bedroom filled only by the current song that faded to its conclusion and the rustle of dried leaves in the wind. Afternoon had begun to slip into evening, and the air seeping in from the narrow opening in the window became cooler. Soon that spot of light on the ceiling would be gone. The music would be turned off. They’d get up from the bed to have dinner. It was an inconsequential end to an inconsequential activity, yet something about it felt so bittersweet to Faust. Maybe the guilt came from wishing he could keep everything exactly how it was in that moment forever. Or perhaps it came from the selfishness of daring to wish for more. He didn’t know the answer, and he was certain Luka didn’t, either.

“You know…” Luka spoke up at last, shifting again. He lifted his arm above his head, stretching it until his hand slid next to Faust’s position on the mattress. It wasn’t outstretched in command or suggestion, simply relaxed as a form of option. A reassuring gesture, regardless of whether Faust chose to acknowledge it or not. “Sometimes I can’t help but think that you’re more human than I am.”

That made Faust smile. It was a bitter, reluctant grin, but a smile nonetheless. It was stupid — especially considering how often he pridefully denounced humankind and its foolishness — but somehow the thought brought him comfort. Because if that was how Luka saw him, it meant they were equals. Not an unwilling caretaker and his burden of secrecy, but two friends simply enjoying an autumn afternoon.

Yeah…friends.

Faust flipped onto his side and brushed his forehead against the base of Luka’s index finger, lightly grasping onto the tip of it with his own, smaller hands. He was warm. He felt like safety, and it made the writhing in Faust’s stomach finally die down. It wasn’t an answer. It wasn’t even a direct response to his worries, but that warmth was still something real, something undeniable, and that would suffice.

“So what about you?” Luka asked after a moment.

Faust lifted his head, straining his neck to shoot the human a confused glare. “What about me?”

“Where would you go if you could travel to any place on Earth?”

Ah, right. That was what started this whole tangent in the first place, wasn’t it? Faust supposed this was what he deserved for getting cocky and running his mouth earlier. He hummed for a moment, gazing toward the window as he contemplated his answer.

“I guess…someplace where every day is like this one. I think that’d be nice.”

Luka smiled, curling his fingers ever so slightly around the demon’s touch as he joined him in observing the golden light beyond the apartment walls. “Yeah,” he replied softly, “It would be.”

[kendsleyauthor]

Prompt 13 for Xander and Grayson or Micah and Everly? 👀✨

Makeshift Medic

Print/trinket universe

~1900 words

Warning: Blood

Summary: When Xander stumbles in, drunk and bleeding, Grayson takes it upon himself to treat his wound properly. (Takes place sometime between Teddy Bear and Cozy Up.)

Thank you for the prompt!! This one made my heart sing 🥰

@marydublinauthor 🌸

If Xander didn’t make it back to his room on the bus by 4 AM, that typically meant he didn’t plan on sleeping that night. It was nearly dawn, and Grayson hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

It wasn’t that he was worried about what Xander was doing—he was a rockstar on tour, what could anyone expect? No, Grayson’s uneasiness came from having the room to himself. Intimidating as Xander’s presence could be, having him around was a safeguard.

A drunken roadie could stumble into the room to harass him. Or maybe a rabid fan looking for Micah. 

Laying back on the pillow, Grayson kneaded his temples. 

He was being paranoid. There was twenty-four-hour security keeping an eye on the troop of tour vehicles. But would anyone bother to intervene if it was a print who was in the danger?

The door burst open. A figure stumbled into the dark room.

Sleep-deprived and wired as he was, Grayson shouted in alarm and scrambled to the corner of his pillow. Then he froze up, his heavy breathing beginning to calm when he recognized Xander’s silhouette. 

“Lights… on,” Xander mumbled. When nothing happened, he huffed. “Lights on,” he said louder.

Grayson flinched both from the sound of his voice and the light that flooded that room. He gaped when his vision cleared.

One, Xander was clearly hammered.

Two, his hand was bleeding.

“Are you okay?” Grayson jolted to hands and knees, leaning forward.

Xander barely looked at him. He muttered something incoherent and sank down on the floor beside the bed. For a second, Grayson thought he was passing out right there, until he heard Xander digging around through one of his bags.

When he stood again, he held a med pack—one that had clearly been swiped from the tour physician. 

“Do, um… Do you get hurt often enough to keep that in reach?” Grayson asked.

Again, Xander didn’t answer. He sat on the edge of the bed and slumped over, clumsily opening the pack. 

For all of his hyper-intense focus while sober, his inebriated self could only focus on one thing at a time—if even that. Or, he was just being an asshole and purposely ignoring Grayson’s concern.

“Don’t tell me you got mugged?” Grayson tried again.

Finally, Xander snapped his head around to see over his shoulder. He stared at Grayson like he was crazy. “You think I’d lose a fight?”

The intensity of his glare almost sent Grayson fleeing back to the corner of the bed. He raised his hands in peace. “Hey, for all I know, they’re laying a blood-soaked heap outside.”

Xander narrowed his eyes like he couldn’t be sure whether to take it as a compliment or not. He snorted and went back to rifling through the medical supplies. “I tripped, okay? Scraped myself on gravel or glass or something.”

“Two are two very different things. Maybe you should go to—”

“I’m not knocking on the doctor’s door like this. She’s already been on my case about drinking. Don’t wanna deal with that.”

The finality of his tone made Grayson shut up for a few moments. He watched as Xander haphazardly selected what he was going to use to fix himself. Unfortunately, that selection only amounted to a roll of bandages to wrap the wound.

“You can’t do that!” Grayson blurted before he could stop himself.

Once again, Xander looked over his shoulder. That glare, unfocused or not, towered over Grayson at a building’s height. Neither of them moved for several seconds, locked in a silent staring contest that Grayson finally forced himself to break. 

“You… you can’t,” he insisted. “You can’t just cover it. You’ve got to disinfect it.”

“I can take care of myself.” The defensiveness in his tone bit hard.

Intimidation rolled through Grayson like a thunderstorm as Xander continued to study him, daring him to continue the argument. But the longer Grayson looked, the more he could see embarrassment lining his narrowed eyes and pout. It was far more than Xander gave away when sober. 

“If that gets infected, there’s no way you’re playing for a while,” Grayson said, injecting some semblance of authority into his tone. “So, listen to me.”

Another beat of silence. Grayson’s confidence wavered. For all he knew, pushing Xander over the edge would result in a broken limb or two. 

At last, Xander pursed his lips and shoved the box in Grayson’s direction. He stared down at the bedsheets with insecurity that Grayson didn’t think possible from him.

Grayson slowly slid off the pillow and inched toward the drunken giant. It could have been some power move trap—lure Grayson close and hurt him just for the fun of it. But Xander didn’t appear to have the wherewithal or spitefulness to pull that off. 

Although every self-preservation instinct told him to keep his eyes on the massively potential threat, Grayson tore his eyes away to look through the box. He grabbed a bottle of salve by the cap and heaved it out. It was longer than Grayson’s arm, and he’d never had access to such high-end medical supplies. He’d only heard that it worked wonders.

Clutching the bottle to his chest, Grayson walked closer to the edge of the bed, right beside where Xander was sitting.

“Lay your hand out,” Grayson said, calmly as he could manage.

Xander obeyed after a heavy sigh. The gash was deep, but thankfully it didn’t look like he needed stitches. Blood continued to trickle out and pool in his palm, threatening to stain the bed. 

Grayson uncapped the bottle. “You need to soak up the blood first.”

“Ugh.” 

With some more cajoling, Xander did as he was told. He used some of the gauze to gracelessly mop up his palm. He even managed to use an alcohol whip on the cut without being a baby about it.

“Good,” Grayson said.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m five,” Xander muttered.

“Then don’t whine like you’re five.”

When Grayson peeked up to see if that would ignite some anger, he noticed the other side of Xander’s face has a smear of red across it. There didn’t appear to be another cut—maybe he had thoughtlessly brushed his hand over his cheek. Whatever the case, the sight of it didn’t do much to make Xander appear harmless at the moment.

Let’s get this over with.

Taking a dollop of the salve into his hand, Grayson leaned over Xander’s palm to apply it to the wound. The moment he made contact, however, Xander seemed to forget what his intentions were. Fingers curling reflexively, Xander snapped his hand away and stared at Grayson with wide eyes.

“H-hey,” Grayson said, swallowing hard. One of those fingers had nearly given him an uppercut to the jaw. “I need to touch you. Please. I just want to help.”

“Why?” Xander snapped.

“B-because, I mean,” Grayson sputtered. “You’re bleeding. People hurt when they bleed. You’re hurt. It hurts, doesn’t it?”

That didn’t quite seem to satisfy Xander’s demand, judging by his deepened frown. 

Grayson returned that frown. “Why are you so shocked that I want to help you?”

Xander shrugged. Cautiously, he laid out his hand again. “Whatever.”

Watching for so much as a stray twitch from Xander’s hand, Grayson gingerly spread the salve on the wound. Almost immediately, the redness began to fade, and the skin began to close a little. With any luck, it would be nothing more than a scrape by tomorrow morning.

“Okay,” Grayson said, searching for the end on a roll of gauze. “Can you lift your hand a little?”

When Xander didn’t move, Grayson dared to peer up at his face and found him staring hard again. Whatever he was thinking about, he couldn’t seem to make sense of what was going through his own head. He blinked and finally seemed to register that Grayson was waiting for him.

Once Xander’s hand was in place, Grayson pressed the end of the gauze to the salved wound to keep it from slipping. Then he wrapped Xander’s palm, asking every few rounds if the tightness was okay. Xander’s only feedback came in the form of noncommittal grunts.

When it was done, Grayson hesitantly told Xander to cut off the remaining bandage roll with medical scissors. Thankfully, that went without disaster. After the gauze was taped off, Xander inspected his hand and flexed his fingers.

His eyes drifted back down to Grayson, intensity flaring up again. “You’re not gonna tell anyone about this, are you?”

Grayson tossed the salve back into the box and clenched his jaw. Annoyance kept him from making eye contact, not fear. “Oh, what? That a print patched you up?”

“Nah. That I tripped over my own feet while I was fucking wasted.”

“Oh. I mean. I don’t know.” Grayson’s gaze fluttered upward and he caught sight of the smeared blood on Xander’s face again. “Hey… You’ve still got—”

“What?”

“Here. Lean down.” 

Grayson ripped off a clean corner of the alcohol wipe that Xander had used. To his surprise, Xander didn’t argue about leaning down. 

Once his face was close enough, Grayson reached out to wipe the blood. Xander went tense—his jaw clenched right beside Grayson. But neither of them flinched. Xander’s skin was hot to the touch. Stubble grazed Grayson’s skin as he gently cleaned away the red smear. He took a step back, holding up the stained wipe for Xander to see.

“Hm.” Xander clumsily plucked it out of his hand and tossed it, along with everything else they’d taken out, back into the box.

Grayson sighed wearily. “Okay, I know you’re wasted, but you can’t just put bloody things back in—”

“Thanks,” Xander cut in suddenly. “Thanks for the help. Micah would’ve lost his shit if I couldn’t play because of an infection.” There was a beat of awkward silence, though it didn’t last long. “You didn’t answer my question, though. About not telling anyone.”

“I mean… I think the doctor should probably know that you hurt yourself, right?”

“Wrong.” Xander’s expression went blank for a second. Then he stifled a yawn into his good hand and wavered like a sudden wave of sleepiness had crashed into him. 

Without warning, he scooped Grayson up.

“H-hey! Wh-what—” While Grayson stammered out half-questions, Xander yanked back the sheets and crawled under them, taking Grayson with him. 

Settling into bed without a care, Xander hugged Grayson to his chest. Although his touch was more uncoordinated than usual, it felt far from menacing.

While Xander’s heart thudded at an unhurried pace beneath him, Grayson’s pulse was fluttering like a panicked bird. Sure, Xander was a cuddler when he was unconscious, but never while he was this awake—though it quickly became clear that awake was an understatement.

Xander’s mumbled words were barely audible, even when pressed up against his chest. “Can’t have you running off to tell on me.”

Before long, his breathing evened out. The weight of his hand loosened. But Grayson stayed where he was. After what he’d been through the last fifteen minutes, he couldn’t say no to some warmth and safety—things that were becoming dangerously familiar from the likes of Xander Dalton.

((Xander only knows two things: 1. be grumpy 2. cuddle Grayson))

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 38 | Epilogue

Chapter Thirty-Eight | Epilogue  

Time is one of those funny things in life. One second, you’re learning to walk as your consciousness comes online. You’re exploring the world around you and learning new things. Decisions come your way and, like the butterfly effect, branches into an entirely different life. In the very next moment, you’re sprinting toward your dreams and building a life for yourself full of adventure and excitement.

Both Amanda and Parker were right there in the middle of it all. Though both of them might have made different decisions in the moment, neither would change where they were now.

After meeting Rey and Hero and hearing about their story, Parker felt his optimism growing once more. The two Borrowers met his mom, Amanda, with enthusiasm and listened to the story of Amanda’s “borrowed” son, a title both of them thought was amusing. Rey and Hero also told Amanda about their sister-in-law, Ashlynn, and how their niece’s situation was very similar to that of Parker. The girl, Mayzie, was just about Parker’s age and had grown up as a child of both worlds and she couldn’t be happier, though navigating the world was sometimes confusing and challenging.

They talked about how, like Parker, Mayzie as well as Dorian and others in their Borrower community had online presences. They even showed Amanda and Parker Dorian’s music videos. At first glance and without knowing he was a Borrower, neither Amanda nor Parker would have known, which Rey explained was the point.

“The world isn’t ready for us to all be together and know about one another, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t have glimpses like these videos or our writings. Even some of our inventions from my business with my friend, Theo,” said Rey. “And I’m pretty sure we’re not the only ones. Take a look at Tay Models online and tell me it’s not a Borrower-human team. That and my business partner Theo are great examples of what we could do together if Borrowers and humans could live together in harmony.”

“Yeah, as much as I want us to all live together in peace and harmony knowing about one another, not everyone will treat us the same even though we are so similar,” Hero explained.

They spent hours talking on the first day, and they continued for the next week while Rey and Hero rested before their next trek back into the wilderness. Before they left, the two Borrowers invited Amanda and Parker both to come and see the community they’d built, saying their doors would always be open if either of them ever wanted to come by. They needed time to return but left their contact information and said they’d be in touch next time they were in the neighborhood.

Sure enough, a month later Parker’s discord chat and social media pages were flooded with follows, likes, and comments from what Parker could only guess was the Borrower community Rey and Hero talked about. It was confirmed when Rey reached out directly just to say hi and that if Parker needed anything, this is where Parker could reach out.

During that month, Parker poured himself into his studies and his training. His physical skills were enhancing by the day just like his mind. With everything he learned, Parker tried to find a way to teach others and make life for Borrowers better. From engineering and medicine to the basics of math, English, and science, Parker began developing lessons and blueprints for others to understand.

His lessons began with the others in the house. It took time to convince everyone that what he had to offer was useful, but eventually most of them yielded. Parker’s reasoning was that he was learning from them, so it was only fair that they learn from him in return. Reading was the first thing Parker started teaching since that would be the most useful, and everything else fell into place from there.

Reed and Dove were the most receptive to Parker’s lessons and Mira tried to help and follow along while the others mostly humored the Borrower teen. It was progress though, so Parker took it. It would take months to really get the ball rolling, but everything Parker had learned was slowly being integrated into the others.

A real moment of pride came when Parker happened to come into the room to hear Dove actually trying to read to her older brother, Finnick, with one of the miniature books Parker had printed out and cobbled together.

Before he knew it, Parker was graduating alongside his girlfriend, Lyn, and making plans to attend a college. The scholarships he accepted gave him his pick of the litter, but Parker found a program that would give him the best of all the subjects he was interested in. Science. Technology. English. Art. What made it better was that it was all virtual. He could attend all of his classes and submit his assignments under complete anonymity.

The other Borrowers in the house were uneasy that Parker had decided to continue delving into his “human side” rather than fully committing to being a Borrower, but the only one who actively commented on it was Kit, who Parker found out from Finnick later that she was being so mean to him because she actually had a massive crush on him.

For a sixteen year old boy, it was a strange phenomenon for girls to be mean when they actually were interested in you, but Parker left it alone. He was happy with Lyn; at least, for a time.

College was a trying time for their relationship and, to Parker’s dismay, Lyn’s affections had ended up shifting. The distance between their two different colleges and the things she wanted had changed, leaving both of them heartbroken. Nothing was necessarily wrong, but it just wasn’t completely right.

It was heart crushing, and it did leave Parker adrift for a time, but never did he start letting his studies and interests suffer. During that time, Parker had just turned eighteen and, with some intense discussions with his mom, decided he wanted to take a kind of sabbatical and go with Rey and Hero to the community they talked about many times during their visits.

Amanda wasn’t certain about it and set some firm rules about contacting her as soon as they had arrived, to which he agreed. Their discussion lasted several weeks and, finally, Amanda consented. The journey was going to be a difficult one and the last thing Amanda wanted was to see her son hurt. He still had faint scars from his last encounter with the outside world.

But Hero and Rey assured her that they’d keep her son safe and that she was always welcome to drive over to Ashlynn and Soren’s place and wait for them and visit.

This did make Amanda happy, but it was still surreal.

This was her son. This was her pride and joy. Remembering the first time she’d seen him and now seeing him all grown up was an emotional rollercoaster. Tear stains dripped onto Parker’s pack as he turned and told his mom that he would see her again very soon.

Sure enough, it was true.

Amanda gave them a week before reaching out and contacting Ashlynn, who had already been told the entirety of her and Parker’s story. The two were fast friends, sharing many of the same concerns with their kids and how they were progressing through life, and soon Amanda and Ashlynn were having coffee together as they waited for their modern adventurers.

Parker, with the help of Rey and Hero, had an entirely different experience from the last time he was truly roughing it while camping. They showed him where he needed to be and what he needed to look for to keep himself and others safe. They taught him practical skills where Parker found ways to integrate what he’d learned from school to the wilds around him.

While the adventure was a needed one, Parker was grateful to see the yard that belonged to Ashlynn and to see his mom’s car in the driveway. One tearful reunion later and Parker was being shown the entire community that lived in the walls of the home. Parker witnessed their recording studios, manufacturing tables, and modern construction while also getting glimpses of the old ways and the “traditionalists.”  

He was seeing new faces and being introduced to so many new Borrowers all at once; and one of those faces made him blush and smile from ear to ear.

All the while, Parker was making mental notes on how he could make the world around him better, and he knew exactly what he could do to make it happen.

It was a rough decision, but Parker decided to go home but promised that he would return as frequently as possible. He had some applications to fill out.

Now that the need was obvious, Parker made his decision. While also writing and continuing making his lessons to teach other Borrowers and tutor humans with his online lessons, Parker decided that he needed to learn more about medicine. Too many Borrowers suffered from sickness and ailments that Parker believed could be fixed. Amputations were far too frequent on limbs that could easily be saved and infections from rusty pipes and other random odds and ends were a common occurrence.

Having someone who knew what they were doing when dishing out medication was an immediate need not only for the community Parker met, but other Borrowers who lived out in the wilds; and Parker intended to meet those needs while pursuing his passions.

It made Parker realize that he would be spending more time away from his mom, which made him feel sad. This was the one person he never wanted to leave or disappoint, and now he needed to do one of them to help make his dreams come true and make the world a bit better. He came to his mom with a heavy heart after his first semester in a virtual medical program he found and told her his plans.

He’d almost expected some pushback, but it was almost the opposite. Amanda couldn’t be more proud of her son for delving into his passions, regardless of what they were. She knew she’d never lose contact with him and reassured him that he was always welcome home. Amanda told him that it was part of being a parent to give your kids the skills to go out into the world and live the life they wanted. Of course, she always wanted him to be around and stay with her, but she didn’t raise him to be timid and to stay locked away forever.

Amanda assured him that she would be okay and both of them promised that they would have a weekly check-in when the time came to make sure that everything was alright. In the meantime, Amanda would take up more things to occupy her time. She’d even considered becoming a foster parent now that Parker was all grown up, which made both of them tear up.

True to her word, Amanda registered as a foster mom and welcomed kids in need into her home. She’d had a lot of practice helping Parker recuperate, so human kids almost felt easy. Amanda also took up a few hobbies including watercolor and writing since Parker was becoming more independent by the day. She even started illustrating her own children’s book series about a little lost boy who had found himself in a world of giants.

Parker also decided to write the story for himself, using the “correct terms” and making his book seem like a work of fiction inspired by writings from Mary Norton. It took a long time for Parker to compile everything together and summarize all of the events. After all, how do you boil down an entire lifetime of stories into a single set of pages? But he did, and the title that Rey and Hero had dubbed as Parker’s story was too good to pass up. With the help of his mom, their story was finally complete. Perhaps it would be seen as fiction. Perhaps others – humans and Borrowers alike – would see this story and believe.

And so this is it.

This is the story of “My Borrowed Son.”

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Previous

Beginning

[pocket-ozwynn]

Offline Valor: Chapter 2

[Borrower!AU]

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Word Count: 3587

CW: Blood, flashbacks of death & violence

Rowan the Crownbreaker, son of Clan Ash, knew he should feel more pain than this. 

His fingers twitched idly as he stood upon the rampart of cardboard and cobble. Through the open window at the far end of the room came a warm, arid wind that smelled of a storm. It filled the cavernous attic’s interior almost like a whispering omen from the Low Heavens. Rowan desperately wished he could close the window, but to do so would require a strength that none in Clan Ash possessed.

With no other option, Rowan opted to stand watch. He stood vigilant upon the wall for any sign of shadow that might cross the window in front of the warm amber glow of the monolithic light pole that stood as a lonely sentinel for this block of the sleepy titanic neighborhood. He even readied himself whenever he heard a cricket too loud, lest a mercenary ranger from the Forsaken Fane swoop in under cover of night.

Despite his resolve, his eyelids grew heavy. He bit his cheek and dug his fingers into the cardboard, hoping that a bit more tactility would keep him alert. He could sleep when the Lowlord lay in a pool of his own blood. 

He wasn’t worthy of rest, not yet. 

Be it the gravity of exhaustion or the absence of Ash’s typical merriment around their warrior’s sacrament, Rowan found his attention flitting down to examine the meager campfires near the base of the wall. He surveyed the loose circles of tissue paper tents and the faintly illuminated faces of the remnants of his family polishing off their crumm finalis. Typically there was laughter, singing, and dancing, but tonight the camp was silent as a grave. There would be no singing before the morrow.

As he took note of those who were alive and those who were absent, Rowan felt a pain like a dull knife carving deep in the chambers of his heart. It was a slow, methodical feeling. He hurt, but he felt like he deserved to hurt more. 

It almost didn’t seem fair.

Rowan spied his aunt, the Raidsinger Nail, slipping out from her tent and making her way over to speak with one of his cousins. Though the cousin sat outside the glow of the fires, he could only assume she was attempting to make last minute preparations for their final stand against Lowlord Yucca’s forces in the morning. 

The stairs creaked behind him. 

Rowan’s hand was a blur as fingers curled around creaking leather and plastic as he gripped the hilt of his dagger. He pivoted, the blade ready to fly from his fingertips-

-as he turned, a hand caught his wrist. Rowan grunted in surprise.

“A bit slow on the draw, nephew,” came the soft chuckle of Uncle Oleander. He released his grip and let Rowan’s wrist fall. “Rest easy, ‘tis only me.”

Rowan sighed. He sheepishly sheathed his blade. “My apologies, Uncle.”

“For being too slow? Or nearly slitting my throat?” His uncle grinned as he moved to join him upon the parapet. And though Oleander teased, Rowan couldn’t help but feel a bit of embarrassment at both his ineptitude and paranoia.

“All is forgiven, Rowan,” Oleander hummed as he laced his fingers and rested his arms on the wall. Though his lips were a permanent smile under his mustache, the glow from the campfires below cut strange shadows across his face that almost seemed to cast him in a dark, weary light.

“I see appetite has eluded you as well,” his uncle noted. “This kind of thing always leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I personally try to avoid connotations between merriment and death. But your aunt typically revels in tradition. So if the Raidsinger wishes to perform one last crumm finalis, to give our clan a little faith, then I see little harm in it. Faith can be a powerful motivator, after all.”

Rowan didn’t respond. He had his own personal distaste for the crumm finalis, but that all seemed so trivial at the moment. After a few seconds of the two men studying the camps below, his uncle cleared his throat.

“How do you fare?” he finally asked as he looked toward Crownbreaker. His tone was somber. “Nail was looking for you.”

Rowan could answer honestly. In truth, he felt vivisected–laid bare before an altar of rage and anguish. But despite the pain, he still couldn’t feel anything. How do you explain a paradox of this sort?

“I fare.” Rowan shrugged halfheartedly.

There was a beat as Oleander waited for Rowan to elaborate. When he did not, his uncle turned his full attention towards the Crownbreaker. With his hand now resting upon the saffron pommel of his rapier he asked, “Is it fear? Grief? I know this last excursion into Ash Haven might have been difficult for you…and you were one of the few who made it out alive.”

Rowan shuddered. His mind went back to Lowlord Yucca…the look of fury in his eyes…the hands at Rowan’s throat. Rowan couldn’t even think of the family he lost that morning, all he could feel was the Lowlord’s fingers digging into his neck

“No,” Rowan corrected quietly. He dug his fingers deeper into the parapet till he felt the cardboard bend under his grip. “Anger.”

His uncle clicked his tongue knowingly. 

“Anger can be stoked for the most righteous of causes,” Oleander admitted with a sigh. “But it is a hot coal and if one is not careful, it can easily devour if left unattended.”

Rowan flinched as his uncle put a hand on his shoulder. Rowan felt guilty for not being able to meet his eyes. He knew his uncle was right–he was always right, but the gravity of this conversation made it feel like this might very well be Oleander’s final lesson to him. 

“Be careful with how long you let that emotion dwell, Rowan.”

Silence fell over the pair as they regarded the titanic vista beyond the faroff window. Oleander stroked his mustache thoughtfully as rolling dark clouds started to choke the Heavens Low. Oleander drew breath and went to say more, but-

Cold water ripped Rowan the Last back to consciousness. 

He gasped and flailed. Panic replaced the air in his lungs as the chill robbed him of his breath. As he splashed around, his fingers managed to find a glass rim that encircled him. He gripped the rim till his knuckles went white. His knees knocked against a wall in front of him, and his feet settled on a floor of some kind. He steadied his breathing as he slowly regained awareness…

Not drowning then. Just standing in a vertical glass tub filled with cold water.

Rowan couldn’t be sure what was happening. His memory felt melted–it was hard to grasp the last few days, let alone what happened to get him in this position.

All he could remember was Uncle Oleander’s face…his words…

The storm.

The Lowlord.

The decimation.

Even as Rowan tried to come to his senses, he saw movement around him, before him, and above him.

When Rowan finally had the sense to look up, he recoiled and pressed up against the back of the glass tub. It all was coming back to him now, like ink to water.

Rowan had nearly forgotten about the titan that saved him.

The titan was a woman with soft pink hair that cascaded past her shoulders like soft waterfalls. Her features were smooth and her eyes dark and soft. She had grace and femininity that belied her mountainous figure.

In fact, Rowan would dare say she was rather pretty.

She pulled her hands back ever so slightly and fingers the size of able bodied men curled back instinctively; however, she still kept her hands hovering within grabbing distance of him and the glass tub.

“You’re…” The Titan seemed breathless. Her eyes were wide and kept darting with microscopic movements. “...you’re not dead. That’s, um…pog.”

As soon as that last word slipped out the Titan closed her eyes tight. Rowan wasn’t sure the meaning of, but it certainly wasn’t one that the Titan had intended.

“I mean, um…wow. Sorry, l-let’s try that again,” the Titan laughed awkwardly. She pursed her lips and swallowed. “You’re awake.”

Rowan slowly nodded. He was too exhausted to verbalize any sort of response. While out of his periphery he could tell they were in the kitchen, he refused to look away from her. 

He searched her face for any indication that might suggest she meant him harm. And despite his searching, he saw nothing that suggested ill will. The memory of her words–you can trust me–was an odd reassurance that filled his chest with an uncomfortable warmth. The moment he felt that, he tried to shove down. Every lesson of Oleander bubbled under the surface of his groggy consciousness like hot tar as he considered his next move and the echoes of his family screaming in his ears: do not trust her.

And yet… 

Rowan ran a damp hand down his face as he broke her gaze. He closed his eyes and tried focusing on the feeling of his calloused skin against his scruff. The sensation was oddly grounding. He sighed, then scooped up a bit of water to splash his face.

Perhaps sensing he was finally relaxing just a bit, the Titan pulled her hands back all the way and took a seat. Earth Below, even sitting, she easily towered over the kingslayer.

Rowan got a better look at the kitchen. It was a bit tidier than some of the other titan homes he had frequented. The walls were white, the cabinets were dark black, and the fixtures brass. A massive chrome coffin with two handles on one side stood proudly off to the side–it was a Frigid Vault. Rowan fondly remembered when Aunt Nail taught him how to throw up a hook and rope to get a secure grip on one of the handles. Within the Vault lay many wondrous feasts that were preserved by the icy magics of titanic understanding. 

But for once, Rowan wasn’t considering looking for food. The thought of eating made him nauseous.

He was up on the counter by the sink. Between him and the brass canyon was his cloak, his shirt, his daggers, a pair of tweezers fit for the fingers of a titan, and a tube of medicine salve that Rowan recognized from foraging runs.

Finally, he spied a large washcloth bundled up like a hill of linen next to his clothing and weapons. It had once been an olive green, but now it was stained with blood. A lot of blood.

He could only assume it was his. 

“Take deep breaths for me, okay?”

Rowan frowned as he listened to her voice. For some reason hearing such a gargantuan person make such a soft spoken request was genuinely disarming. He’d never met a titan before–never even thought he’d meet a one–so any expectations of what might sound or act like was based around the stories told to him. Her timbre was surprisingly clear and concise, and she sounded like any Borrower woman of his own size.

Eventually he relented, and tried calming his breathing with deep inhales and steady exhales. As he breathed he felt a bit of soreness in his left side that prickled into a twist of mild pain–it was enough to make him wince. Whether or not the Titan picked up on that, she gestured to the left side of his chest with a finger.

“I, um…had to take off your shirt. Had to see where you were bleeding and why.”

Upon hearing this, Rowan looked down. He still wore his boots and trousers, both of which were properly soaked through. His muscles glistened from the water and the lawn mower's marks stood brightly in contrast–it was a deep lattice work of scars across his pallid skin that he was still getting used to.

Opposite of the burned tissue that dominated the right side of his chest, he spied a strange patch that hugged his left pectoral. It went down to his abdomen, then wrapped back beneath his armpit and nearly touched his spine. The patch’s material was rather confusing to Rowan. It seemed to be some kind of malleable plastic.

“It looked like a stitch had popped,” the Titan explained as she absentmindedly smoothed out her shirt. “It probably came loose from your run in with Chu Cu.”

Even as the words left the Titan’s mouth, she puffed out her cheeks and looked off. It was as if some kind of realization crossed her mind. She ran a hand through her hair and looked in desperate need of a drink. “This is…absolutely f@$%ing insane...”

Rowan squinted. He wasn’t quite sure what that fourth word meant, but he presumed it was some kind of titanic vulgarity. 

After a prolonged moment of silence, the Titan threw her hands up in the air.

“PLEASE say something!” she blurted. Rowan jumped in the tub at the sudden din of her words. “You haven’t said a single thing! I’m trying not to just freak out here! You’re a little man who nearly got eaten by my neighbor's cat, I just cleaned up a lot of your blood, and fixed your stitching. So I would really like some help feeling like I’m not just totally losing my mind right now!”

She looked down at him pleadingly. Rowan looked up at her as he tried to figure out a proper response. Lazuli had been the one with the silver tongue, not him. How could he possibly hope to console a titan and explain to her what he was? 

As he attempted to gather his thoughts, a look of horror washed over her expression as she seemed to recognize how her outburst might’ve come off. She put a hand to her mouth then whispered brokenly, “O-Oh f@$%! I didn’t mean to shout...I-I’m so so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare y-”

At that, Rowan actually managed a chuckle. It was mirthless noise, and it seemed to catch the Titan’s off guard.

“Believe me, miss.” Rowan ran a hand over his dirty hair and shrugged. “Far more terrifying and monstrous things have left me unphased. And seeing as you are neither terrifying nor monstrous, you have nothing to apologize for.”

The Titan stared at him. Despite partially covering her mouth, he noticed her jaw hanging slightly though Rowan couldn’t be sure as to why.

“Y-You are confused,” Rowan pointed with a groan as readjusted himself in the glass tub. He winced from the accumulated pain he’d accumulated over the last few weeks of running. “I would be too, were the roles reversed…so I apologize for any untoward anxiety I might have put into your heart.”

The Titan just mouthed a three word phrase of disbelief that Rowan couldn’t decipher. She blinked and looked taken aback. “I, um…wow. Huh. I…didn’t expect you to be so, um…”

Rowan raised an eyebrow. The Titan cleared her throat and shook her head.

“N-Nevermind,” the Titan replied. “I’m just glad you’re awake and you seem to be doing okay. How do you feel?”

How did Rowan feel?

He felt carved out–hollowed. It was like there was nothing left inside. And truthfully, he felt exhausted.

None of that, of course, was the Titan’s fault.

“I am well enough off.” Rowan waved her off. “But I am grateful for the aid. You saw the beast attempting to eat me, and you stopped it. You saw I was bleeding and suffering from the sun’s heat, and you took me in and treated my wounds and put me in a…”

He paused, then looked down at the water and the glass, upright tub. “...I believe this is a bathtub?”

The Titan looked a bit flustered before correcting him. “That’s, um…that’s a shot glass, sir.”

Rowan processed that. Then a rogue smile tugged at his lips as a flicker of amusement danced in his chest. “You put me in a cup?” 

“Okay well when you put it like that it sounds like a really dumb idea, but I was panicking!” the Titan protested with a furious blush. “I wasn’t gonna like, drink you or anything! Th-that was just the first clean thing I saw that could hold water!”

“I know, I know,” Rowan reassured with a chuckle. “Sometimes physicians simply have to work with what they have at their disposal.”

The Titan furrowed her brow. “You…you think I’m a physician? N-No, I’m just a-”

“Regardless of what I ended up in, I hope you know how thankful I am for your charity, lady-titan. I cannot recount an instance in recent memory where a titan has expressed that degree of kindness upon seeing a Borrower like myself. So, again, I thank you.”

The Titan’s expression softened. She smiled and hummed, “Oh, um…yeah. For sure. Y-You’re welcome, little guy. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

After a moment of awkward staring and Rowan standing in the cup of cold water, the Titan moved to stand. Rowan’s breath hitched as he was reminded of the Titan’s scale.

“I have…so many questions for you,” the Titan admitted with splayed hands, “but I don't want to overwhelm you. You’ve gone through hell, and I don’t wanna add to it. So, um…you just, ah…have a nice soak, and…um. You just shout when you’re done, okay? Take as long as you need, there’s no rush.”

Rowan felt a surprising wave of gratitude, but it wasn’t without discomfort. Time was not a luxury that nomads like Clan Ash could afford. So to hear the Titan wishing to simply table her curiosity till he had time to rest was perplexing. 

“Are you certain? I understand if you have questions, and I wish to answer whatever I can. If you wish to speak now, we can speak. This is not a grievous wounds, I am well able to spe-”

“I’m sure.” The Titan grinned. “Look, guy…I’m not gonna push you. You just rest and we can talk later. But, like…also, if you change your mind and just want to leave, I mean. Window’s open. But please if you do decide to leave, just give yourself an hour or so to cool off. Then make sure you get plenty of water in you, and please please stay in the shade when you’re outside. It’s a kajillion degrees, and I wouldn’t want you getting a heatstroke, okay?”

Rowan considered her words. “I appreciate that. Though I believe I will be staying, if only for a moment. I owe you an explanation in order to express my thanks for you saving me, gracious titan.”

The Titan grew visibly flustered at that. “O-Oh, I have a name ya’ know. You’re sweet but, um…gracious? And, titan? Too much, dude. I’m just a normal person–call me Zelly.”

“Zelly,” Rowan mulled over the name. “Sounds very regal. Are you nobility?”

The Titan–Zelly–threw her head back and guffawed. When she looked back down at Rowan she gasped, “Oh, you were being serious? Um. No. Definitely not nobility. Um…are you nobility?”

“Neither am I, thankfully,” Rowan wryly replied. He was reminded of polished silver and crushed porcelain floors. An open air throne overlooking the treetops. The touch of mercury. The smell of hazelnut. A friend who placed their diadem aside, and sat close to him as they sipped from pewter mugs.

The memory was like sweet vinegar to the taste.

“My name is Rowan the Last, Once-of-Ash,” he added somberly. “But you may call me Rowan.”

“Rowan the…?” Her voice trailed off. Zelly shook her head, as if opting to ask later. “Well, um…Mr. Rowan. You just get some rest, okay? I’m going to grab something from the fridge and, um, go decompress a bit.”

She turned and walked over to the Frigid Vault–which she had called a “fridge”--and effortlessly tugged on one of the handles and opened the Vault with ease. It was a feat that typically took several teams of Borrowers to do, yet she did so with one hand. Rowan could feel a shockingly cold gust of air, even from here.

“Do you want anything?” Zelly asked as she leaned back to meet his gaze. Rowan raised his hand, indicating he was fine.

As Zelly rummaged through the “fridge,” Rowan tried to close his eyes and follow the titan’s request to rest. But even as he closed his eyes, he saw the images burned into his eyelids. He remembered the sound of screaming, the smell of gunpowder, the taste of his own blood…

He remembered hearing the crunch of Uncle Oleander’s shoulder before he vanished from sight as he tumbled off the edge of the roof.

He remembered the Lowlord Yucca running Aunt Nail through with a cruel, gnarled blade.

He remembered when it was just he and Yucca standing on the precipice of shingles while the uncaring storm rained hot tears upon the bodies and blood around them.

He remembered when their blades met. He remembered when two became one, and the Lowlord lay in a pool of his blood.

He remembered how empty that victory felt. 

The dull knife carved deep. The pain pressed upon his heart. The grief was so immense that its weight made his ribs groan. No rest would come.

He would never be worthy of rest.

All left decimated, with only a single speck of Ash on the wind.

Rowan, once of Clan Ash, had truly become the very Last.

[smolghostbot]

GT July: Dream / Memory

Posting this early since I'm not going to be able to on the actual day for Dream. Decided to get borderline experimental with these prompts, since it gave me a kind of interesting way to give details of Patch's backstory (they can't exactly... tell it themself, y'know?)

Word Count: 1k Character bios in my pinned post

⚠️hoo HECKIN boy here we go with the content warning list⚠️ Whump, the whole thing is whump, Pest Control in a Borrower story portrayed as vague traumatic memories similar to a fire, unreality in the context of dreams, unreality shown through writing techniques, mentions of physical, mental, and emotional abuse, alcoholic abuser, hints of inhumane living conditions, and a panic attack (All except the panic attack are in a dream, but as the prompt implies, are also memories). Abuse section is surrounded by ⚠️emoji so you can skip over that one if you want/need

If that is too much or too heavy, or if you need a cooldown afterwards, may I politely suggest checking out Melancholy / Video Games, which is a lot gentler.

========

They were running. They had to run, the room was filling with bright clouds, the ones that cause that intense pain. They look around, seeing their childhood home, covered in darkness. They could hear the muffled noises through the wall to the humans' kitchen, the loud whirring of the unknown device that heralded the downfall of their village. The panicking sprite reaches for their backpack, hoping it would protect them like it did last time, but it wasn't there. No! Did they leave it somewhere? They had to go back!

A door, was that always there? That wall should lead to outside, what was this door? An escape from the clouds, that's what it is. They walk through, only to be met by that familiar alleyway. As if on cue, she walks into sight, her blue-green hair, eyes the color of fire, and golden dress a contrast to the dreary gray and red-brick surroundings. She glows in an almost supernatural light. The sprite tries to get her attention, but she keeps walking, causing them to have to lunge out of the way of her sandal. Why didn't she see them?

Wait, the backpack, they forgot their backpack! They turn to the doorway that was never there, replaced with the usual wall, with the offset brick that served as the entrance to their nest for a few months, a little shelter to keep out of the elements.

They enter the bricks and end up in their little outlet room, their slice of home in the human world they've been a part of for months now. The wiring seems different… oh, of course, yeah, they did change that, didn't they? Still missing their backpack, they walk to their shelf, to see if there's anything they can use. As they reach for supplies, they remember that there was nothing there. They reach for supplies, but they remember that there was nothing there. They reach for supplies, but they remember that there was nothing there. With every shelf empty, the young sprite realizes they'll need to go borrowing. Maybe they'll even find their backpack along the way.

As they leave the room, they fill with dread as they realize where they are. This place. The sprite hears the noise, that dreaded noise, the uneven thumping that indicates they are home… and are even more aggressive than usual. The panicked sprite looks around, trying to find where to hide, they can't see them again, this can't be happening! The door to the room opens, that dark, looming silhouette appearing, taking up the doorway, taking up the room, taking up the mind. In a singsong voice, they call out. ⚠️⚠️⚠️ "Paaaaatch~"

Wait, Patch? How… only… they didn't get that name until afterwards… did she betray them?

"Aren't… aren't you glad? Glad that-that your friend found you? Just think… you would have been sooooo lost if she... if she didn't bring you back here, where I can, y'know, I can keep you safe. Because nowww you're home! With me. Where you… belong."

Their face grows a dark grin as they finish that sentence, staring at the terrified sprite with those ice-cold eyes of sapphire. As the figure stumbles through the room, trying to capture them, the sprite runs towards the dresser, atop which sat that familiar prison of a cage. They were always able to move the dresser, but it gave a few moments of respite before the pain. Time to brace, to prepare. As they enter the darkness, they cower as their legs cease to work. How… How could she betray them like this? How could she let them know where they were? Didn't she promise to protect them? ⚠️⚠️⚠️

The backpack, that's what they notice. It's sitting there, in the darkness. A bright light shining down on it, drawing them to it. They walk over and inspect it. Their name, the only trace of their identity, gone. The writing seems to shift between nickname after nickname. Lighter names, "Patch", "Buddy", "Little Cutie"... Darker names. Names that sting their very soul to read. All a part of said soul, for better or worse.

The glow, they see the glow again. Looking up, they see her again, facing away. Her outfit is the same as that fateful day they met, a simple t-shirt and jeans. Either she's really far away, or somehow smaller. They approach, cautiously, having some strong words if this is really her. As she turns, her purple eyes – the sprite's own purple eyes, gaze right through them. She opens her mouth, the sound coming from everywhere and nowhere as she speaks in a voice they've never heard, "I am Ri

Patch awoke in a sweat, eyes full of tears. They looked around their room. The wiring was exactly as they left it. Their shelves were full of supplies, a few blueprints, and some snacks they kept handy. Most importantly, their prized backpack hung from its usual hook, their name inscribed on it. Panicked and breathing heavily, they did the only thing they could think of. They ran outside and furiously rang the bell outside of their little room, hitting it like their life depended on it.

Before long, the kitchen light turned on, and the towering, half-awake form of Melody stood before them, her hair messy and eyes bleary. She yawned before starting to speak. "Wh… where's the fire, Patch? You okay?"

The answer was made clear as she focused her eyes, taking in the shaking, crying form before her. This instantly woke her up a bit, as she ducked down to the level of the countertop. "Oh, oh no, Patch, buddy… how can I help? Touch, or no touch?"

Patch held their arms out, signaling that it was in fact a touch situation. Mel gently held out her hand as the scared sprite jumped into it. They were moved right to the human's shoulder, where they embraced her in as much of a hug as possible with a two-inch arm span, as they silently cried. The human's heart broke to see their friend like this.

"... Say no more, Patch. Why don't we go lay on the couch, I'll put the TV on, and we'll help you forget about whatever you dreamed about, okay?"

She needed no approval from the sprite as she laid down on the couch, consoling her small companion, who was already starting to drift off again to the comforting rhythm of Melody's heartbeat, their dreams for the rest of the night uneventful.

[gtbutterfly]

Quincy and the forest Giant part five

finally came up with a proper title for this series. anyways, here's the comfort part of "hurt/comfort", as promised in the last chapter. I hope you enjoy it. criticism is appreciated.

previous part

tw: mentioning death and squeezing, though none actually happens.

______________________________________________________________

It felt like a couple of hours later. I was still under the pillow, holding myself. I had stopped crying a while ago, now I was just numb. It was still raining outside, thunder roaring every so often. Occasionally, I would hear Ella walking by. She didn’t speak to me for a while, sometimes I would feel her walking behind the couch behind me, or see her looking at me from the other side of the room while I hid from her under the pillow. Finally, she left the room and came back a couple of minutes later with a massive paper towel with some more stale bread on it.

“Hey,” the giant said, sitting on her knees in front of the couch, and placing the plate next to the pillow. She was rubbing her neck. “It’s about lunchtime. You should eat something.”

I stayed silent. I was actually hungry, even if all there was to eat was the large, stale bread, but I didn’t want to come out of my hiding spot. I didn’t want to expose myself to her. I heard the giant sign in response to my silence.

“Come on, come out of there, I want to talk to you,” Ella said, sounding more annoyed. “You're not in trouble or anything, just come out.” I still didn’t budge from my spot.

“I….I am not h-hungry…” I lied, trying to get Ella to go away. She groaned with more annoyance.

“Look, I’m trying to be nice to you after what happened, and you’re going to accept it, ok?” Ella said. “Don’t make me yank you out from under there, kid.”

I hesitantly crawled out from under the throw pillow and looked down in nervousness, avoiding eye contact with the giant. 

“There you are,” Ella said, glaring down at me. “I got you some food,” she pushed the piece of bread towards me. I stared at it for a moment before stepping onto the paper towel and picking the bread up, taking a small bite. It was hard and nearly crunchy. 

“Do you not like it?” Ella asked. I looked up at her.

“Um…its…..uh, its ... .um…a bit stale….” I said sheepishly.

“Do you want me to get you something else? Water? Fruit from outside?” The giant asked.

“Um, no thanks, I’m fine,” I said, taking another bite. The giant sighed and leaned on her elbow on the couch. She seemed like she didn’t know how to say what she wanted to.

“So…about earlier, your… you're fine now, right?” she asked.

“Wh-what?” I said, confused as to what she meant.

“You're not like, traumatized or anything from what I did to you, right? I mean,your not crying anymore,”

“...yeah, I’m not… crying…” I said,

“So you're fine? We’re good?” Ella asked. I struggled with wwhatto say to her. I was silent for a few moments before I heard her sigh. “You’re still afraid, aren’t you?”

“Um….well….um….” I stumbled over my words while answering her, “your…very big…and you…um…you can be….um”

“I can be what?” Ella asked sternly. “Intimidating? Mean?”

“Well...um…..” I nodded and shrugged at the same time. Ella sighed again.

“We should talk about this somewhere else,” she said, reaching her hand towards me.

“Huh? Wait, don’t-” 

The giant suddenly picked me up, wrapping her hand around my torso and giving me a light squeeze as she casually walked into the kitchen and plopped me onto the table. She sat down in a chair while I tried to stand back up. She sighed before talking. 

“Look, I didn’t mean to go that far when I was…threatening you earlier,” she said, looking down as if she was ashamed. “I wouldn’t actually hurt you, let alone ‘make you go missing’ like I said. I was just trying to get you to listen to me and stop asking questions. I didn’t mean to make you cry or anything, ok?”

“Um…ok…” I said, still scared.

“Good, I just wanted you to understand that.” she said. “As long as you're here, I’m in charge of you, and you have to listen to me, but that doesn’t mean I’ll hurt you, understand?”

“...sure…” I said, looking down. Ella sighed slightly and looked closer at me.

“Don’t lie to me, Quincy.” the giant said.

“I…I’m not…” I gulped to calm myself down, “I’m not lying,”

“You still think that I’d hurt you,” Ella said sternly. “You're shaking and mumbling when you try to talk. If you trusted me not to hurt you, you wouldn’t be doing that.”

“I…you…well ... .your…you're not doing a very good job convincing me.” I said,

“Look, I explained myself, I told you I didn’t mean to make you cry like that, I don’t know what else you would want from me to give me your trust.”

“You…you didn’t even…apologize…you…you’re acting like you didn’t do anything wrong, and this is just some kind of misunderstanding…” I said, looking down.

“Is that not what this is?” Ella asked, even more stern. “You misunderstood me, and thought I would hurt you.”

“You….you threatened me…you squeezed me….” I said, closing my eyes to brace myself for Ellas reaction.

“Squeeze you? What are you talking about?” Ella asked. “You mean when I was holding you tight earlier to bring you here? That was so I don’t drop you. You wouldn’t want to fall from that height, kid,”

“No…when you were yelling at me,” I said, “you…you were holding me tight again, and….your grip squeezed me while you were yelling…..and it hurt…like you were going to crush me…” Ella was silent for a moment hearing this. Her expression lightened and her eyes got wider as she looked at me.

“What? You mean I hurt you?” Ella asked, suddenly sounding horrified. “Are you still hurt? Did I break anything?”

“Um, no…I’m fine now…..a little sore, I guess,” I said,

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ella asked,

“You…you were mad at me…” I said.

“You…you thought I did that on purpose?” Ella said, sounding both horrified and angry at the same time. “I…I wouldn’t…I honestly didn’t mean to…” her expression softened more as she sighed, looking at me with guilt. “are you sure you're not hurt? Are you okay? Do you need anything?” 

“No, I…I’m fine, it's ok,” I said. 

“It's not ok, I hurt you,” Ella said in a serious, yet sympathetic tone, “I could have actually injured you, or crush you, I…” The giant sighed again, closing her eyes and looking down with guilt, before looking back at me. “I’m sorry, Quincy.”

“For….for squeezing me?” I asked.

“For squeezing you, for making you cry, and for yelling at you in the first place.” Ella said. “I really, truly, sorry.”

“Um, it's okay, Ella,” I said looking up at her, “it only hurt for a moment anyway. It's fine.”

“It's not fine, Quincy. Your 13, you’re just a kid.” Ella said, full of guilt and anger at herself. “I yelled at a child. I made a child cry and hide from me. I almost killed a child…” 

It seemed like she was more so talking to herself at this point, trying to come to terms with what she did. What she could have done. There was still sternness in her voice, but none of it was directed towards me anymore. It was all towards herself. She was angry at herself. 

“It's ok, its…its over now. You don’t have to worry anymore,” I said, trying to calm the giant down.

“This is exactly why I’m not supposed to be around normal humans,” she muttered under her breath. I guess if she was normal size, I wouldn’t have heard it. But she's not, and I heard what she said perfectly. 

“...not allowed?” I asked. Ella looked at me for a second embarrassed and still ashamed of herself. She sighed and looked down.

“Quincy…” he sighed again, frustrated. “The reason I didn’t want you asking those questions..” she paused, “is that..the more you know about me, about this, about my job, where we are, what I am, the more you know about those things, the more danger you will be in.”

“Danger from what?” I asked.

“...not me, hopefully.” the giant sighed. “With what you know now, there's a good chance you’ll be fine…for the most part. But if you find anything else out, you won’t be. Bad things will happen to you, and I don’t want those things to happen, but I can’t keep them from happening unless you stay unaware of these things. Do you understand?”

It took me a moment to answer, “ok…I understand…” Ella grew a soft smile as I nodded. 

“Good, I’m glad we could work this out,” The giant said, still looking sympathetic. “If there's anything I could do to…y’know, make things up to you for what I did earlier before those people come to get you tomorrow, just tell me, m’kay kid?”

“Um…ok, Ella,” I said. “Um, could we…do something to pass the time…until then…”

“Sure kid. sure.”