#MAN ABOUT USE HIS DEADLY MYSTIC HAND

[missowo]

First meet

who the heck are you????

(why is he sounds like shelldon?)

Also:

[paperbackribs]

The Gift (4 of 15) (Witch Steve AU)

previous: Chapter 3 Boys Are Witches Too (Part B) next: Chapter 5 You're Doing That On Purpose (Part A) Ao3 Link - Chapters will be updated ahead of Tumblr Content: 1.5K words, CW: Eddie briefly uses homophobic language against himself.

Last chapter, Steve called back his mother to explain the latest round of the Upside Down and the Hawkins crew heard and accepted Steve's accounting of being a Witch. Now, Eddie wants to have a deeper conversation about what happened when he died.

Chapter 4 Break the Illusion

They had all been talking longer than he had realised, Steve thinks as he enters the kitchen. A window, facing out into the back garden, lets in the soft light of the late afternoon sun, its golden rays spilling over Eddie, creating a gentle halo on the dark cloud of his hair. Eddie's metalhead armor—the oversized black leather jacket, silver wallet chain, and worn jeans—seems incongruous against the peach floral patterns of the backsplash their interior designer installed back in '82.

Eddie has hopped up onto the tiled counter in front of the window, facing the door as he waits for Steve to join him. He’s also returned to that enigmatic expression again, Steve notes, though Eddie’s white Reeboks tap restlessly against the cupboards and his fingers twist at his rings, belying a nervous type of energy. He hopes it’s not him that is making Eddie jittery.

Steve waggles his fingers in a wave from the doorway in an awkward feeling of déjà vu, trying to communicate his harmlessness.

“Why’d you do it, man,” Eddie’s face may not be giving much away, but the tightness in his voice worries Steve.

How does he go about explaining the uncanny to a person who has never experienced it except in short and deadly bursts through a murdering psychopath or a journey through an eerie replica of their town?

Eddie hadn’t acted so reserved before he died, before he was brought back to the revelation that Steve is a Witch. Even in the midst of that damned forest he had been full of irreverant comments while easily swaying into Steve's personal space. The thought that Eddie may look at his white eye now and see the ashen and grotesque Vecna sits heavily in his gut.

Considering Eddie's limited exposure to the variety of mystical present in their world, Steve supposes he can excuse the guy for being tense. A heavy sigh gusts out of him in an attempt to let loose the apprehension stuck at the back of his throat. Determinedly, Steve walks towards Eddie and hops up beside him on the cool tiles, intent on breaking through whatever barrier has sprung up between them.

His hands brush against the back of Eddie’s thigh as he settles on the counter and Eddie whips his head to Steve in surprise, but this time he gets the puzzling sense that it’s like Eddie can’t imagine Steve wanting to be physically close to him.

Steve wonders why that would shock Eddie so much. They had started a tentative friendship, hadn’t they, in the Upside Down? They had shared insecurities and glances of comradery, and silently agreed to protect Dustin as much as they could. They weren’t strangers, is what Steve’s getting at; the experience of the Upside Down was as intimate and bonding an experience as any war.

Maybe that’s how he should approach this, Steve muses, listening to Eddie’s tapping heel create a hollow sound on the blonde wood.

He had gained the best of friends by being honest on a gross bathroom floor the last go round. Perhaps presenting the truth as simply as possible will regain him Eddie’s trust.

“I won’t lie,” Steve promises, catching Eddie’s wide eyes.

“It was risky and pulling you back from the other world was a buzzer beater, even for me. But I don’t think you know what would have happened if you had died. There were so many people, Eddie, who were going to hurt. Who were never going to get over it. I could do this one thing, so I did.”

Eddie scoffs, looking down as he wears at his fingers around the rings, his skin starting to turn an irritated red. “Yeah, I don’t think the local freak disappearing is going to cause that much of a wave.”

“Eddie,” he grabs the other boy’s hand, ignoring the zap of warmth from their connection, the soft humming.

Eddie stills, but doesn’t look up.

“I know you don’t have much reason to have faith in what I can do but believe me when I say that I have the power to See this. And yeah, it would have hurt a lot of people. Dustin…”

Steve has to draw a breath to cover the anxiety he still feels over the tapestries he had unveiled. “Dustin would have been devastated.”

Steve watches Eddie’s lips quirk bitterly through the curtain of his dark hair, his black leather-clad shoulders almost as high as his ears. “Yeah, that shrimp doesn’t know any better,” he says.

“It’s not…” Steve cuts himself off, frustrated. “I’m not great with words, that’s Nance. But it wasn’t only Dustin, Eddie. I didn’t look far, but I Know that there are going to be people who love you so much that they don’t even realise the strength of your loss yet.”

Eddie's fingers tighten around his own and Steve belatedly realises that he’s been holding his hand this entire time. Still, Steve doesn’t drop it, thinking that maybe the connection between them is needed right now, to convey his sincerity.

It’s nice too, the feeling of warmth and affection shared in a simple touch. Other than Robin, it's rare that he has the opportunity to have skin-to-skin contact with anyone these days. At his heart of hearts, Steve is a tactile guy and it's just not the same as when he tousles Dustin's hair or pulls Max in for a side-hug. And, as much as he loves his mother, she never was the demonstrative type, even when he had seen her regularly.

“I think you’ve got a pretty great way with words, Stevie.” Eddie looks up at him from the corner of his one hazel eye, still looking a little tense but something was released with his words, Steve realises, relieved. The knot in his gut unclenching. Maybe being a Witch and deciding to change the tapestry of fate wasn’t going to stop him and Eddie from continuing to be friends.

Steve lets the responding lightness he feels fuel his answering smile, “Yeah, yeah. Don’t tell anyone, they think I’m an idiot. Don’t want to break the illusion.”

“I did too,” Eddie admits guiltily. “Before all this,” he waves his free hand in the air. “I thought you were some empty-headed jock who, while not the worse of the bunch, was certainly a member of the asshole brigade.”

Steve winces, “You weren’t far off.”

“Nah,” Eddie grins, leaning further into Steve's space to teasingly tug on a lock of his hair. He's so close that Steve can smell the warmth of Eddie's cologne and feel the subtle heat of his body.

For a moment, Steve’s breath catches and he’s not sure why.

Eddie seems oblivious as he continues talking, “Turns out you’re a good dude with a head and heart ready to save people. Even people you barely know.” The last of his sentence ends in a deep murmur while Eddie reflects on the bronze strands that he has effortlessly captured between his fingertips.

“Eddie?”

Eddie blinks, letting go to tug at the sable waves over his own ear. He holds up their joined hands. “You don’t mind this?”

“What, holding hands? Robin and I do it all the time.” Robin has a lot of opinions about what she describes as the overly moist and disgustingly warm parts of the human body, but she likes to hold hands just as much as Steve does. Sometimes they’ll watch a film, backs to the opposite ends of the couch but connected by a loose clasping of their fingers.

Eddie sneers, though Steve doesn’t think it’s directed at him. “Not afraid of catching something from the local queer?”

Steve blinks rapidly, trying to remember what that store owner had told him and Robin at their Indy visit. His gaze moves beyond the pale orange tiles that they sit on to the golden amber of the maple island across from them. Steve absently traces the wide space as he cautiously decides on his words.

Drawing on Robin's language and style from when Steve had shared a simliar admission, albeit with far less self-loathing, he shifts back to Eddie, trying to make his eye contact serious and free of judgement, "Thank you for telling me. I’m happy you felt you could share that with me.”

Even as he says the stilted words, Steve feels like an idiot; but his sincerity must have been felt by Eddie because the other man's shoulders drop along with his defensive layer. "Steve,” Eddie laughs. “What are you doing, man? You sound like Twiki.” He mocks Steve with a robotic bidi-bidi-bidi sound.

Steve bumps him with his shoulder in retaliation. “No! I just...” He groans, he really isn’t great with his words. “I have this friend,” he starts carefully. “And we visited this place for the first time last year.”

“Oh, no! Mystical traveller, you've trapped me in a maze of endless possibilities. What riddle do I need to answer to understand your wisdom?” Eddie cries out into the air, bringing both arms up in supplication, Steve’s arm wagging alongside him.

“No, shut up.” Steve keeps laughing, pulling their clasped hands down to rest on the counter between them, before Eddie shakes his whole arm off.

“It was a queer bookstore, and we were talking to the owner about how my friend told me they were gay, and Chris shared about when she outed herself. And it was terrible! Like really awful and she said all she had wanted was someone to tell her that it was okay.”

Eddie’s expression softens and his teasing smile quirks to the side. “That’s really sweet. You’re sweet, Harrington, aren’t you?”

Steve brightens with the compliment even as he rolls his eyes and jumps off the counter, letting go of Eddie as he does. Eddie lets him only to lean forward, elbows on knees, “Sweet little Harrington, looking after his lost lambs and saving the unrepentant satanist of the Hellfire Club.” His eyes are gleaming.

Steve points a bossy finger in his face, pulling it back before Eddie’s mock chomp connects. “Don’t make me regret it, Munson.”

“I think sweet little Stevie, you should just call me Eddie.”

Eddie sticks out his hand and, smiling, Steve shakes it in agreement.

“Oh wait!” Steve drops Eddie's hand, calling over his shoulder as he rushes away, “Wait right there, I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” Eddie sounds amused and a little bewildered.

Steve runs up the stairs two at a time and bursts into his room. Cleaned and folded on his dresser is Eddie’s vest.

He checks it one more time – there are some blood stains that he couldn’t remove from the blue denim for the life of him, but he hadn’t wanted to scrub too hard and wear out the material. He gives it the sniff test as well – smells fine, just like his laundry powder, though he thinks he may have accidentally gotten some of his hair spray on it too. It’ll be okay, Eddie won’t notice.

He runs down to present his offering to Eddie, who's idly drumming his heels against the cupboard again, although now he leans back on his hands while staring up at the ceiling.

Eddie casually glances down to Steve as he bounds into the kitchen, lighting up and quickly reaching forwards as he sees what's in his outstretched hands, “My battle vest.”

Eddie runs a ringed thumb over a dark patch. Steve thinks that the maroon colour could pass for the stain of red wine, but wonders whether Eddie prefers the aesthetic of blood instead — something far more aligned to his admiration for Steve tearing his teeth through that demo-bat.

Nevertheless, he apologises, “Yeah, sorry, I couldn’t get it all out.”

“Nah, it’s fine, Stevie. It’s Metal, right?” Eddie looks up, happy. “Thanks, this has a lot of memories for me. It would’ve sucked if it’d gotten lost.”

Steve feels that warm glow of having done the right thing. He reckons that he may have come out the other end of the Upside Down with another good friend after all.

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

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Edit: @mightbeasleep

[dhampiravidi]

make me your villain, Miss Holt...

All Jayn knew was that one moment, she was being fired for pretending to be a man (they didn’t exactly let women work at shipyards), and the next, she had a new job. Well, she knew that her father had used his connections to help her. (She’d hate to see the look on her mother’s face when she came home unemployed and failed.) A noble like him, Ravkan instead of Fjerdan, wanted help cataloging his things before he moved. She’d managed the supplies and salaries at the docks, so he considered her qualified. It was better than the other "help" her father had given her, which was an arranged match with a Matthias Helvar. There was no way Jayn was giving up her life to live in a freezing cold country amongst misogynists. She'd find reasons to put the wedding date off until she had enough footing to properly decline.

So she took a ferry from Kerch, a sandskiff through the mysterious Shadow Fold, and a train into Ravka’s mountains. The people in the eastern part of the world were easily the most superstitious. Those on the train had prayed to their Sankts before the journey had begun, and the Suli people who had agreed to take her to Count Morozova's door had unsuccessfully offered her a number of protective charms before they left.

Jayn told herself that there was nothing to worry about. She'd learned how to fight at the shipyards, with her fists or with whatever was on hand (no pun intended). But even in Novyi Zem, they told cautionary tales about the zowa Ilya, a man who dabbled in forbidden mystical arts to create something out of nothing. He had died a tragic death, and one of his descendants had used the same magic to create the Shadow Fold. It was said that enemies of Ravka were targeted by monsters who lurked within. In reality, Fjerda had only dared approach Ravka from the Fold once during the war decades ago, and it had only resulted in deadly failure.

She approached the doors of the Count's ornate, yet intimidating castle, and knocked on them with a shivering hand. Her luggage sat next to her, almost like an obedient puppy waiting to accompany her inside.

@starlsssankt

[asterjennifer]

Hey Jenni! I hope it's okay for me to send request. I'm wondering if you could write a fic about MC having a nightmare about what Suit Saeran did to her? And how GE Saeran would feel about that and comfort her. I mean, she already forgive Suit but you can't control your nightmares right?

In conclusion, hurt/comfort 😌

🎀 Oh my.. This is so realistic! I often have nightmares myself when I'm stresssed and I remember them so well even to this day. I bet that would happen TT 🎀

© rosita_1199 on Instagram

Night Terror

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Pairing: GE Saeran x Reader

Category: Angst (Fluff)

Warnings: Flashbacks of past abuse, insults and bullying

Word count: 2616

Summary: It's been quite the ride, finally you all get some calm after the storm.

There're just nights where the fear comes to greet you. And he is both the reason for the pain and the comfort.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You are, in fact, the most useless piece of shit I've ever seen.” He sneered, wrinkling his nose in pure disgust. Wanting to fight back, tell him it's not worth the pain to neither of you, something about the look inside his eyes tore your heart apart. 

No hidden longing left and no sign of the sometimes hesitant movements revealing he's just as scared as you were. There wasn't any of it, only pure and terrifying honest repulsion. Like he didn't know you at all, like Ray's memories were gone with a simple snap. There's nothing of the pain that he tried to cover up by using anger. It's simple antipathy. 

Worse of it all; you didn't know why he suddenly was that way. You sat on the floor inside the normally bright princess room, yet there's no color or light left. The heartbreaking reality stood in front of you to gloom at your body as if really loathing your mere sight. He didn't touch you either, the moment you reached out he withdrew. Like you could affect him with a deadly disease. 

His ocean eyes stone cold. “Your hobby that you like so much? Hah, you're not even good at it.”  He spat into your face. “A toddler would be better than trash like you.” Tears began to run over your face. 

These words, they hurt the most. He'd never said something so genuinely cruel before, this wasn't to shield you in a distant, twisted manner. The man you fell in love with directly attacked the values you held close to your personality and happiness. You shook your head while tearing your stare away. 

“Tsk, at least I starve your body. You're too fat,” He pointed up and down your body, you didn't realize you covered yourself away with both hands at first. “Did nobody tell you about your body yet?” 

“Your curves give me cancer and all the imperfections of your skin are making my eyes sore.” He waved his hand, voice filled to the brim with judgment. 

“Looking ugly and still stupid as fuck,”  Saeran said in a disbelieving tone. “You're not even smart enough to understand concluding facts... How did you manage to get through school?”

He continued the violent words stabbing through your chest carelessly. “Oh right! You don't need brains for school. Just desperation.”

You're suffocating at your own sobs, reminded of all these issues that he now tore open for the first time forever. Saeran could be cruel back then, there's no need to deny the sharp tongue he owned if desired. The one which caused you to cry more than once. However, this was beyond simple insults. You bit your lip, scared saying anything's only making the situation worse. 

Saeran threw his head back as laughter bounced off the walls to continue echo around your head. “Is that why you have these issues with your parents?” He asked amused. Having your lunges burn. 

“I'm sure they regret showing such a broken, worthless being to the day of light.” He shrugged his shoulders, grabbing your chin painfully tight to force your eyes back to his. 

They're so detached, not a trace left of the Saeran you knew. The one working to understand how love’s supposed to feel and fighting own demons in order to do more than just survive. None of it to find, pretending it hadn’t been there in the first place. 

Saeran dug his nails deep into your throat, making you fear he's doing to break through skin. “You don't deserve to cry, look at other people. Look at me.”

A moment of silence followed where you did, he then faked a smile. The corners of his mouth never reached his eyes, but this time he didn't try whatsoever. Back then it hadn't been so painful, he still cared deep down. How come that changed? Have you truly lost the one person you thought would accept even the darker parts of you? Why was he the hurt one. If you could've turned back time and switch his past with yours, you'd do it in a blink of an eye. 

“You're having it great in comparison, but you're the one with the problems? Pathetic.” He hissed angered, tearing you out of self-destructive thoughts. “You're so disgustingly needy for attention, you make your pain look like a big deal..”

“Yet it's nothing. That's why everyone ignores it, but you're not able to stop. All because you're a selfish little fuck.”  You sobbed out, trying to get away from him and these poisonous thoughts which plagued your head before even meeting Saeran. The hacker threw you further, an owner kicking his dog probably had more gentleness than your lover tossing you away. 

Saeran rolled his eyes, already turning on his heels. “No wonder nobody loves you.”  You rubbed the big tears off the corners of your eyes, watching him leave without being able to move from the spot. 

“You're not special,”  He smiled while opening the door. “All of you's replaceable with people who are better at being what you try so hard to become.”

Although you wished to run up and both leave the Magenta complex and stay by his side, not a single muscle obeyed your order to finally get into motion. Saeran shook his head annoyed at your obvious panic, tapping his index finger against his temple. 

You bit down your lower lip as he huffed like he's not believing it. “You know what you deserve?” Scared of the answer, you hugged your body since it's trembling badly. 

“You can die alone, that's all you will ever do right.” A moment of silence followed before he pulled the door close.

——————————

A sharp gasp brought you back into the real world. The hammering pace of your heart drowned out every other sound inside the bedroom, the furniture he and you had chosen along the ride mostly blurry colors lit by the night sky. You couldn't breathe for a moment, it's all stuck in the depths of your lunges until you started coughing up the shock. It shot through your veins, the fire of suffocation. 

You threw your wobbly legs over the bed. Trying to sit up, calming these aching nerves that were dangerously close to snap. It wasn't real.  The smell of flowers rose into your nose, grounding you a bit to the fact you're not at Magenta anymore. You're home. Resting inside the house Saeran, Saeyoung and you decided to buy once things settled down. You're aware, nonetheless, your body's not there yet. 

Things like these just... happened. Nightmares weren't just for the twins to experience. The memories attacked your latest nights as well, maybe in a different sense, but at the end of the day it's the same issue to deal with. You raised your hand, preparing in case the stomach contents wouldn't play along. The filthy taste already covered your tongue, not much before the pretty carpet underneath your feet's ruined. 

Fuck this cult.  Fuck their drugs and fuck them for hurting your man like they've done for years in a row. You hated it with every inch, despite Saeran forgiving the cruelest of all residents. You blinked; eyelashes fluttering shut to not see your world spin. It's uncomfortable, the feeling of being glued to a carousel without consent. These words stuck to your back regardless, vision clear or not, didn't matter. 

Saeran had been bitter and said some hurtful things, but he never used true insecurities to fuck over your sanity. These doubtful worries straddling your head here and there combined with the past insults he used as outlet somehow must've mixed up together into a disgusting, undeserving cruel nightmare. He didn't deserve to be represented that way in your mind, Saeran regretted what had happened more than anyone else. 

“My love?” Ah shit, wrong timing. You didn't have the peace to register he's not with you in bed after jerking awake. He must've left to the toilet or kitchen. Saeran still got problems with sleeping through the night, as he's not used to so many hours for rest. You sighed, wiping your dirty mouth even though you, luckily, didn't throw up. “Hey..” 

Your voice answered, lingering with a hoarse touch in your own ears. Therefore, you didn't want to picture how it sounded to your lover. For a second the quiet dominated the air, having you shiver since the same took place in the nightmare. So you hugged your arms in real life as well. There's no reason to lie or sugarcoat anything, not in these walls where everyone dealt with the ugly aftermath of the abuse caused by outsiders. 

The shift on the mattress let tears swell up in impressive speed. “What's wrong..?” His angelic voice asked, full concern, that got you sick to the stomach for a second time. 

“Nightmare..” You whispered, feeling ashamed albeit relieved. Good thing that's just a nightmare, you couldn't imagine what you would've done if he really would've ended up treating you like this. You pinched your eyes close when shaking your head. No need to imagine as it never had and will happen! These fears were ridiculous. And yet...  

The touch of his hand on your shoulder startled you. “A nightmare? Do you want to talk about it?” Saeran looked confused as you basically fled from the bed. 

“(N)?” He said your name sensually, no hint of hatred or disgust. Saeran wore his white T-shirt and short pants he always put on when going to bed. White hair a blueish touch thanks to the moonlight outside. He's beautiful. But looking at him somehow was no help, on the contrary, your throat narrowed until you couldn't breathe. 

Your eyes lowered to the ground, tears finally spilling over your face. “D-Don't touch me right now, please!” 

God, you felt like a monster for saying that. Saeran's smart, it took a minute at most for him to connect the dots. Nightmare, that worked up state you're in like someone attacked you personally and the fact you couldn't bear his touch. His bright eyes, almost glowing in the dark, widened then. You scratched your arms when seeing it change to an unreadable facial expression out of the corner of your eye. 

He nodded slowly. “Got it, don't worry. I won't.” He didn't even sound surprised, that hurt a lot more than expected. “I'll stay right here.” You pressed both hands to your face. 

How could you do this to him? He's regretting and hating himself for what he'd done back then, despite his plaint reassurances saying otherwise. Yet in moments like these, where the topic reached the surface, it's clear as day. Saeran let his hands fall into his lap, not moving an inch. Afraid moving could trigger you further. 

“No.. It's not your fault,” You sniffed, both angry and sad. Rubbing your nose. “Stupid anxiety melted with the memories. I'm sorry.” 

You stood there, leaning onto the drawer for some physical support when not having the emotional available. Saeran frowned by that. “Why are you apologizing..? It's a dream, you have no way of controlling it.” He assured, it sounded honest. 

“I know, but–” He cut you off in a soft tone. “No, don't. You're okay, it's not your fault..” You chewed on your inner cheek, embracing the cooler air coming through the window. 

A while passed where you just existed. No words, moves or looks. It helped immensely to focus on other things, eventually leading you to find the composure you're seeking since waking up. You took a deep breath, stretching your back straight which felt like liberation. You've been curled up for what you assumed were hours on the bed, going through this unnecessary pain for the both of you. It's unfair, but when was life ever truly fair. 

“You know,” He suddenly started off, catching your attention. Saeran sat there calmly, seeing his eyes wander back to something you didn't know yet was a sight you both were frightened and delighted to see in action. He then licked his lips. 

“I also have nightmares about you at times.” You huffed, a smile creeping over your lips. “Yeah, I know, dear. But you know it's not your fault.” 

It confused you as Saeran shook his head, playing with the sheets between his fingers in a nervous manner. “No, it's not that. Well, sometimes. But I have other nightmares too..” He fell silent again. 

Atmosphere becoming thick, Saeran smiled pained. “I have nightmares where you hurt me like my mom did.” He admitted subdued. Your turn to widen your eyes. Saeran ran one hand through his hair, gathering the courage to continue explaining, you knew him well enough to find these small clues. 

He then smacked his forehead. “It's disgusting, I hate waking up to these kinds of nightmares. They're the worse.” The unfiltered feeling of being upset shone through, you acknowledged that he kept that a secret for quite a while now.��

“I don't even know where they're coming from..” He confessed in a meek, broken tone. “But I guess it's because.. You're the most important person to me. While my mom was the one I feared the most.” 

You let your arms fall down, knowing the exact pain he's feeling because the mixture of memories with people you loved wasn't a foreign concept to you. Saeran took a deep breath, ended up as a sigh regardless. “I feel horrible when I wake up to a picture of you hitting me with a bottle.” You bet he did. Saeran looked you in the eyes, a small albeit sincere smile tugging on his lips. 

You returned it, kneeling onto the bed with a knee. Only then you're able to make out the tears he fought, too. You held out your hand to him, which he accepted without second thought. You're grateful for someone as strong as Saeran to be your lover. “It's okay, I know you don't mean it.. You can't control it, remember?” That made you both giggle, lightening up the mood more. 

“Neither can you.” He said strict, you knew what trick he played here. But it helped, that's all that mattered. 

Saeran pulled you into his lap and put both arms tightly around you. Nothing in the whole, wide world could keep you safer than his embrace. “Is it better now?” 

You nodded, cuddling your face into his chest. “Hmh, don't worry. Thank you.. for giving me a bit space there.” He then stroked through your hair gently. “Of course, I get it. You don't have to worry about a thing.” 

“I know.. all thanks to you..” You mumbled, a yawn escaping your lips. It caused him to snicker. “It's still late, we probably should go back to bed. Do you think you can sleep now?” He pushed the blanket, letting you slide under first. Typical Saeran, putting you as priority. “Yeah, I can. Just keep cuddling with me..” 

You wiggled your fingers at him, his blue eyes glowing up like the stars glittering to thousand on the sky. “Haha, sure. There's nothing I rather do than holding my angel close.” You blushed at the nickname. 

Saeran pulled you back to his chest, legs twisting with each other as the blanket offered the right amount of weight, having you sleepy in no time again. His heartbeat's an even sound listening to, the fall and rise of his chest discreet enough to make you nuzzle deeper into the hug. “I love you, Saeran.. I really do.” 

He hummed softly, rubbing circles over your back for comfort. With a kiss plastered to your head, he closed his eyes. “I love you more, (N). You're my everything.” 

[kiss-my-freckle]

Full Episode Commentary

1x4: Family Ties

Just watch and you'll know what I mean by color scheme. I've noticed this done in certain episodes.

They showcase Damon's ability to manipulate Stelena indirectly. Unlike Stefan needing to manipulate Damon and Elena directly, Damon manipulates Stefan and Elena through Caroline. Like most of their episodes, Family Ties ends opposite the open. Damon hands Stefan a bad dream, and he's only able to because Stefan doesn't drink human blood. Damon tosses Elena on the news like the couple he actually killed at the open of the pilot. She's the entire reason he vervains Damon with the plan to desiccate him. "You really need some human blood. It might even the playing field. Football reference. Too soon." Like I said in a previous post, they have a football/game theme that isn't just used on the actual field, but in their love triangles. Stefan's so pissed over the bad dream that he stabs Damon with what appears to be a letter opener. Damon returns the favor, stabbing Stefan. Like Vicki's compulsion in 1x2 and the dream Damon just gave him, their mutual stab is one of many scenes they use to show the difference in strength with their diets. When Stefan stabs Damon, it doesn't phase him. When Damon stabs Stefan, he drops to his knee. They continue with these comparisons even into season 2.

Damon: All right, I deserved that. But I just wanted to let you know they caught the culprit. The animal responsible for killing coach Tanner and all those people. Stefan: What are you talking about? Damon: It was a mountain lion. Really big one. It attacked a hunter this morning. It's all over the news. "Deadly beast captured. All's well in Mystic Falls." Stefan: Why would you cover your tracks? Damon: I've decided to stay a while.

This portion of the conversation shows Stefan having no reason to vervain Damon with the plan to desiccate him. Protecting Elena and the town is simply the excuse he uses for it. Best to trust what Damon says while locked in the cellar because he makes it clear why Stefan opted to desiccate him. After all, he's the one spitting truth here. It's because Stefan decided to stay and build a life in Mystic Falls that it was only his problem.

Stefan: You know, you left that girl alive tonight. That's very clumsy of you. Damon: Ah. That can be a problem... for you.

At this very moment, it's Damon's problem because like Stefan, he's now planning to stay in Mystic Falls. He has to for the sake of rescuing Katherine. Understand he's saying this after connecting to his humanity in 1x3, so trust he's being real.

Damon: And I'm just having way too much fun here with you and Elena. Stefan: Can't touch her now. Damon: Well, the vervain keeps me out of her head. Maybe that's not my target. Believe it or not, Stefan, some girls don't need my persuasion. Some girls just can't resist my good looks, my style and my charm, and my unflinching ability to listen to Taylor Swift.

Damon's attempt to compel Elena in 1x3 and this bit of conversation right here is the beginning of Delena's head/heart theme, and it's quite a huge theme. He's referring to her heart and he's lying. He has no plans to get her to fall in love with him. He's emotionally loyal to Katherine and he truly cares about Elena. Stefan's "Can't touch her now" only shows he's ignorant to the reality that Damon could touch her if he wanted to. All he has to do is rip that necklace off and compel her, he's choosing not to. With his reference to Taylor Swift, Damon tells the audience the type of man he is. It's not about impressing girls, it's about spending time with them. He's what I term a woman's man. That part of his personality is an aspect that he and Klaus share. He has other scenes/attributes that contribute to this aspect, and I'll note them along the way. He has an insane eye for fashion, and you can include that in his "Taylor Swift" personality. "The real animal is still out there, waiting for me, challenging me to fight back, to stop him. But how do I stop a monster without becoming one myself?" Again, Stefan has no reason to vervain Damon with the plan to desiccate him. They introduce Logan, and he... comes off a lot like human Damon.

Jeremy: That stuff is mom and dad's. You can't just give it away. Elena: I'm not giving it away. It's called a loan, Jeremy.

I love the scenes between Jeremy and Elena in this episode because I understand it. There's no way I'd trust loaning that stuff to be put on display at a founding family event. I'm very sentimental. My mother's things are off-limits to everyone and have been since she died. They'd only get close enough to take a picture and display that picture at the event lol.

Now the third time Stefan's bloodlust became an issue in scene with Elena, and all he's doing is kissing her. He poses a threat because he chooses to remain in her life, and he knows it. This builds as the series moves along, and I'll reference every escalation. Consider this a lie by omission, which I feel is no different than compulsion. Elena invites him to the Founder's historical party.

Elena: Will you be my date to the Founder's Party? Stefan: They still do that? Elena: Have you been before? Stefan: No, the Salvatores don't get invited anymore.

He lies to her again. Cut to Damon and Caroline. As I've mentioned before, he's good with fashion. "No yellow. Jaundice. Go for the blue." Her yellow dress looks godawful. I don't even like the style. He compels her to take him to the party because he's not lying, it's truly important that he goes. He needs to get to Emily's talisman. Despite being compelled, Caroline speaks to Damon's 1864 attributes, and she's not the only character to mention this. Katherine and Stefan both do. "You can be very sweet when you want to be."

Caroline asks him if he's gonna kill her. He's being honest when he tells her, "Mm-hmm. But not yet." Stefan has no idea of his intention to kill Caroline. So while he plans to desiccate Damon because of Elena, he has no idea that it's not Elena, but Caroline he's protecting. "Because there's something I need you to do for me. How good are you at getting this little nose where it doesn't belong?" This right here is 1/4 of Damon's manipulation, and the entire manipulation is done on Caroline. Tyler sits with his parents at the Grill. When Vicki comes to the table, he reacts as if he's too embarrassed to be seen talking to her, like she's the kind of girl he can't bring home. It's insane the way the parents in this show treat their kids. The way Carol treats Vicki, the way Matt's mother treats Caroline. lol @ Caroline's witch twitter tweet comment. Damon is older sexy danger guy.

Caroline: And Damon's not dangerous. You know, he just has a lot of issues with his brother. You know, like major deep-rooted drama. Bonnie: Like...? Caroline: I'm not really supposed to say anything. Bonnie: Caroline Forbes, when have you ever kept a secret in your life? Caroline: Okay. But you can't tell Elena. Bonnie: No.

This is 2/4 of Damon's manipulation. Vicki knows well enough to know that Tyler is treating her just as his parents do, yet chooses to continue seeing him. "Oh, your parents are gone. I guess we can be close now. You treat me like trash. I'm sick of it." That's why I question the impact having absent parents had on her self-esteem. Jeremy is adorably sweet to her. "You know you're making the wrong choice, yet you make it anyway. It's sad." I could say the same of Elena, and often lol. The sad girl mourning her parents becomes the happy girl being sad in her choices.

Probably best not to treat the "bad" brother this way. Damon is chill and looking through Stefan's homework. It's insane to me that both Stefan and Zach treat him like he doesn't belong in Mystic Falls as if that's not his hometown, treat him like he doesn't belong at the Salvatore boarding house as if that's not his name. "You are in no position to question me." He basically tells Zach the same as Stefan did, only he's more hands on about it, chokes him to get his point across. Damon doesn't have to explain himself. Being alive is enough explanation. Damon likely wouldn't have choked Zach had he not pressed the issue.

Stefan: Hey, are you okay? Zach: No, I'm not. And neither are you. How many more people have to die before you see that? Stefan: I see it. All right, Zach, I see it. Zach: Then why aren't you doing anything about it? Stefan: I can't, Zach. I can't. 

Zach has no idea that Damon already spoke to Stefan about the deaths and cleared the air. Stefan doesn't bother telling him either. It's from this moment forward that I blame Stefan for Zach's death. "Vervain hasn't grown here since 1865. Damon saw to that. The little I had, I gave to Elena." As I said before, the necklace is for Damon, the vervain is for Elena. It hasn't grown in Mystic Falls since 1864 because Damon watched 27 vampires get rounded up. They double-up the vervain and those 27 vampires in this episode for a reason. Damon believes Katherine has been desiccating in a tomb for 145 years because of vervain. While it was also used by their Uncle Joseph when he sold Damon to the Whitmores in 1953, I guarantee Katherine was the entire reason he stopped it from growing in Mystic Falls in 1865.

Damon: Nice trick with Elena. Let me guess... vervain in the necklace? I admit, I was a bit surprised. It's been a while since anyone could resist my compulsion. Where'd you get it? Stefan: Does it matter?

Keep this exchange in mind going forward because Damon wasn't pissed that he couldn't compel Elena. Damon was pissed that he encountered vervain in Mystic Falls, where he made sure it wouldn't grow. He's a vervain extremist. Consider it the weapon that killed 27 vampires, Katherine included. Even though they're alive, they're only alive because of Emily. It was the intent of the founding families to burn all 27 vampires alive in Fell's Church, that's why the church is literally burned to the ground.

Stefan: You've been growing it.

Expect Damon to kill Zach.

Zach: It's just something that's been passed down through the generations. Blood only runs so deep when you're related to vampires. Damon would kill me if he knew that I had it. Stefan: But you're telling me. Why? Zach: Because I trust you. And you're gonna need it if you want to get rid of him.

Not just for growing it, but for handing it to Stefan for the purpose of using it on him for a 50 year desiccation. In his mind, Zach is no better than their Uncle Joseph. "Would it make a difference if I told you I actually like Vicki?" Tyler must be nuts. Him liking Vicki makes it worse. I'm glad Jeremy agrees. Bonnie and the nail polish. Elena wants to mix them because she's both. Elena ends up becoming Damon's sired vampire girlfriend, so the Delicate Flower becomes the Unbreakable Flower and the Naughty Vixen becomes the Obedient Vixen.

"Okay, but it has to go in the vault because Caroline will kill me if it gets back to Damon that she squealed. Apparently Stefan has a very interesting back story. Do you know what happened with his ex-girlfriend Katherine? Yeah, they both dated her, only she chose Damon. And that drove Stefan mad, so he did horrible things to try and break them up. He manipulated Katherine. He filled her head with all these lies until finally it worked, and she turned against Damon."

This is 3/4 of Damon's manipulation, and all it took was a single conversation with Caroline. It isn't just Damon's lie that drives the wedge between Stefan and Elena. It's also the point Bonnie makes at the end of their conversation.

Elena: Stefan is none of those things. Bonnie: Yeah? How do you know?

Elena wouldn't know because she doesn't know Stefan, and Stefan avoids the Katherine topic every chance he gets. In truth, Stefan IS a calculating, manipulative liar. He's been lying to Elena since the moment they met, and lying is a manipulation tactic. That's why I consider his lies no different than compulsion. He's controlling her through them. Trust that Damon would view Bonnie as a very good friend to Elena. He's very intuitive that way. She stood up for her against Caroline right in front of him in 1x3. So yeah, Bonnie is the one to get this reaction...

I love the chess board in this scene with Damon and Stefan. Again, Stefan treating Damon like he doesn't belong. "Why are you even going? I think it's better if we don't draw attention to ourselves." They're going to an event, not dropping bodies. "So you should stay here. I'll see to it Elena has a good time." This is the very threat Stefan worries about. The threat that matters. Stefan delivers the same possessive body language as he did with Damon and Elena in 1x2. Carol calls Elena because the pocket watch is missing from their mother's box. Carol put it on her list of things she wanted to display at the event. Like I said, I understand Jeremy's desire not to loan it out. He wants to feel connected to his father. Unlike Stefan's daylight ring, it's an actual family heirloom. They cut back to Stefan and Damon. In this cut, Stefan purposefully highlights his alcohol in an attempt to get Damon to drink it, and he is fully expecting him to drink it. Tell you what's really insane to me. The last time Katherine's photo appeared was in the pilot. Stefan was shown putting it in his journal. They continue to display it in Stefan's room as if he's continuously taking it out. It's shown in this scene, again with Vicki in 1x6, and again with Elena in 1x10. Clear to me that Stefan has an emotional connection to it. "1864. You and Katherine were the perfect couple. It was hell watching you dance with her." He's being honest, referring to the flashback of their "near touch" dance. Ah, I totally forgot about this dialogue, so I'll have to add it in my notes. Anyway, this entire scene can be found in 2x4.

"Here's to history repeating itself, huh?" THIS is clear-cut intent. History WILL BE repeated. Elena has a scene quite similar in 4x2. And this... this is honesty. "I have to go to the party angry. Who knows what I'll do?" Like I said, a vervain extremist. Vicki looks gorgeous dressed up. I love the way the sunlight hits her, and yeah... I love the dress she's wearing. Again, Tyler treating her like she's trash. He lies to her like Stefan lies to Elena. He claims the line is too long, but it's because he doesn't want Vicki and his mother having a face-to-face moment. They cut to Zach and Stefan. "I wasn't counting on it." This is another lie. Zach's vial of vervain is Stefan's plan b. If he truly didn't expect Damon to drink the alcohol, he wouldn't have bothered with it. "Did what I wanted. It lowered his guard. He won't expect me to try again so soon." He didn't need to lower Damon's guard to roofie him via Caroline. Stefan's entire comment is completely contradicted because he's lying. That's why he offers Damon a drink at the party and Damon refuses. However, I do find it hilarious that Stefan uses Caroline to vervain Damon after Damon already manipulated Caroline to put a wedge between Stefan and Elena. Yes, you read that correctly. Stefan USES Caroline to vervain Damon. I love the dress Elena chooses for the party, but I'm not liking the hairstyle. I'm glad she chose to give the pocket watch to Jeremy and lie to Carol. Not because it acts as a vampire compass, but for Jeremy. She's getting ready to attend a founding family "historical" event, which is likely the reason she comes to understand his desire to hold onto it. Her heart is so damn beautiful. I like how characters comment to age. While Liz feels Damon is a little old for Caroline, Elena feels Caroline isn't much younger than he is. Elena's comment lol... "There's a lot of history here." She has no idea just how much. Jenna runs into Logan.

After Stefan already lied to her about never attending the event, Elena catches sight of their original guest registry. Damon offers her details of the past while Stefan makes it clear that he doesn't want Elena learning their truth. "We don't need to bore them with stories of the past." 4/4 of Damon's manipulation, getting Caroline to dance with Stefan. He's using her here for the sake of getting Elena alone. Not to manipulate Elena, but to offer a genuine apology for trying to kiss her. "I want to apologize to you for being such a world-class jerk the other night when I tried to kiss you. There's no excuse. My therapist says I'm... acting out, trying to punish Stefan." lmao!! If only Damon saw a therapist. If only Elena did, then she wouldn't need to depend on Stefan as badly as she does. Stefan pulls a page from his father's playbook, spiking Caroline's drink with vervain for the sake of vervaining Damon just as their father vervained him for the sake of vervaining Katherine. I'll gif this Delena scene, but it'll be posted separately. Damon tells Elena how he and Stefan died in 1864 while trying to save Katherine. So much for boring Elena with stories of the past. "Who was in the church that they wanted to save?"

Elena's "but I can't get in the middle of it" in this scene is partly the reason Damon trusts taking her to Atlanta in 1x11, and it backfires because Stefan manipulates her for the sake of betraying him in 1x13. At any rate, this Delena scene is what I term "close-up" filming, and to the extent it's... quite intimate. I can understand if some fans started shipping them after watching it. Elena still has no idea that she's a doppelganger of their ex while he's actually referring to their ex. "Doesn't it always come down to the love of a woman?" This line here is a straight-up admission on Damon's part, and Elena knows it. He's referring to the sibling rivalry and how it ALWAYS comes down to the love of a woman, thus, their sibling rivalry is all about Katherine. Even in the night and the lighting they chose for the scene, Vicki looks gorgeous. I love watching Bonnie work her magic, the fact that she's completely terrified of being a witch, and how they gradually have her embracing that part of herself. Notice how I say "that part of herself" because Bonnie isn't just a witch even though the writers treated her otherwise. "Don't talk, please." Damon isn't jealous of Stefan and Elena in this dance scene. She's Katherine's doppelganger, so when Caroline talks about them looking so cute together, she might as well be referring to Katherine. She's jumping off Damon's initial roofie scene. Like I said, this scene only furthers the fact that Stefan couldn't even stop himself from lying to Zach. Damon refuses to take a drink because he's expecting Stefan to make another attempt. Damon doesn't consider the idea that Stefan spiked Caroline's drink for the sake of spiking him. If not for their father doing it to Stefan, he wouldn't either.

It's insane to me that Stefan blames Damon. This dance scene with him... it jumps off Elena's scene with Bonnie, and she felt the truth for herself because she KNOWS that she barely knows Stefan. Even when she asks him to say something, anything... he still refuses to speak of the past. This insane boundary Stefan put on discussing anything of the past will remain an issue for them for four seasons, that's how bad Stefan is with his inability to be open and honest with her. Rather than accept the fact that he's withholding information, that he's been lying and keeping secrets, he blames Damon for causing trouble. While yes, Damon is causing trouble, there wouldn't be any trouble if Stefan were honest with her... which is the entire point. "But with mystery comes secrets." He's keeping secrets, and it's not like the secrets he keeps are "safe" secrets. They're extremely dangerous to her because he's a ripper vampire.

"Because I put it there." The best way not to lose Emily's talisman over the course of 145 years is to keep it with the founding families - and in a secret compartment. After all, Damon had to come home to rescue Katherine, might as well keep the tool to open the tomb close to the tomb. Logan is being more than genuine here. "I was young and stupid, and then things changed. Life got... real." He makes mention to cheese fries, so he clearly remembers her taste buds. He's beautiful in these scenes with Jenna. lol... I love Bonnie. She refers to Carol as a bitch. I agree, but she's only a bitch in the beginning. Hard for her to judge others once she finds out her son is a werewolf. Elena catches sight of Caroline's bite marks. "My mom would kill me." No, Liz would kill Damon lol... Damon would be the one to kill Caroline just as he told her he would at the open of the episode. This scene between Elena and Caroline is the reason Caroline makes a big deal over Damon biting her in 1x5. She wouldn't have made a big deal of it otherwise. Damon gets pissed at Caroline, though not because Elena found out. He's pissed that Elena threatened to go to Liz... who is part of the secret council that kills vampires. "You stay away from Caroline or I will go straight to her mother, the sheriff. You got it?" That's why he's more than ready to kill Caroline here. Again jumping off the open, he told Stefan that he plans to stay for a while so he's decided to keep a low profile. If Elena were anyone else, trust she'd be dead with that threat lol.

"Look, there are things that you don't know, okay? Things that I want to tell you, but I can't. And I may never be able to." This is Stefan basically admitting that he never had plans to tell her he's a vampire, that he may never be able to tell her. And despite this, he forced himself into her life and started a relationship with her. So yes, he clearly felt that Elena deserved a life with him, that she deserved a life of secrets and lies. Jeremy and Vicki are so gorgeous. Slightly angry before the party, Damon now has reason to be extremely angry. Stefan admits to spiking Caroline's drink for the sake of spiking him, tosses him in the cellar with the plan to desiccate him, and in that cellar with him is the very vervain Zach's been growing in secret while Damon is the very person that stopped vervain from growing in Mystic Falls in 1865... and stopped it from growing because of those 27 lives that he knows aren't mentioned in their history books lol. Expect Zach to die as a result.

Even though Damon had every intention of killing Caroline, Stefan's plan to desiccate him isn't about Caroline. It's about Elena. And it isn't about protecting her from violence. It's about stopping Damon from threatening their relationship and to stop Elena from learning their truth. Ending opposite the open...

"I did what I had to do… To protect Elena."

"Don't you see what Damon has done here? He's trying to get you to turn against me."

"Damon said something, didn't he? He likes to play games and cause trouble, Elena."

"So you should stay here. I'll see to it Elena has a good time."

"Well, the vervain keeps me out of her head. Maybe that's not my target. Believe it or not, Stefan, some girls don't need my persuasion. Some girls just can't resist my good looks, my style and my charm and my unflinching ability to listen to Taylor Swift."

"I've decided to stay a while. And I'm just having way too much fun here with you and Elena."

50 years of desiccation is Stefan's plan.

[velathetanager]

Tick, Tick, Tick (a Cybersphere One-Shot)

Author’s Note: Silver is a precious metal and a precious character, and it really did hurt to do this to him. --- In Sonic's defense, it had been the best option at the time. Silver was a dangerous hedgehog, and to be on the business end of his power was not something the blue blur wanted to go through again, even if it was for his own good. So when the time traveler stopped by, he had to think fast. Thankfully, Silver had dropped a plan right into his lap. "Sonic! I'm so glad I caught up with you. We got another future catastrophe to avoid." The hedgehog turned to the voice, dressed in a red and black jumpsuit. "Heya, Silver. Another one? Are you sure it's our fault this time?" Silver smiled slightly. "Most things are," he joked, hovering upside-down briefly before landing on his feet. "In all seriousness. I don't know where it came from, but I wanted to check here first and work my way closer to or father from this point in time depending on how it goes. Do you have time to help me?" Sonic leaned against a tree. "Sure. Just what are we looking for?" "Destruction's Core. A superweapon currently being used by one of Eggman's descendants to terrorize the planet. I don't know anything about how to counter it. Or where it might be." Silver held up a photo. A stormy orb that rather resembled a skull. Sonic cringed. "Okay... this is gonna suck to find, but I can help you, man. Let's start with the basics..." The Green Hill Zone didn't have it. Neither did Aquatic Run or the Marble Zone. Or really, any zone the pair checked. They fought badniks, mercenaries, and even the Deadly Six during their search, which visibly tired Silver out a little, but he wouldn't stop. Not now. The Core was too dangerous. So he carried on, burning himself out as Sonic helped him track down the weapon. Eventually, their search led them to the Mystic Cave Zone. Silver, of course, did a lot of the work moving boulders and gems out of the way, clearing the path for Sonic (who really needed to not run if he wanted to notice anything important, now that he thought about it). The caverns were long and winding, and there were deeper and deeper paths the two could go through. But Sonic was eventually the one to find the right one. "HEY SILVER! C'MERE!" he called, staring at the Core. It practically radiated malice and death; even the eyes in the skull looked sunken in and bore a sickly orange glow. Silver floated in, looking at it and seeming to go pale. "Oh... yep. That's it, alright. It looks so much worse up close..." "I bet," Sonic replied. "It's terrifying. A real game changer. Good thing we found it, huh?" And then he tackled Silver. The gray hedgehog tried to throw Sonic off, but the blue blur held his hands down and cuffed him. Of course, this prompted a shocked, "What the hell are you doing?!" "Listen. Silver. I can't explain everything right now, but big changes are coming soon, and if they happen the way things are now, I'll never see you again. And I don't want that. So I have to do this before I destroy that Core." "Do what?!" Sonic sighed. "I'm going to cut you off from the flow of time. And it's going to hurt. A lot. But I swear, you'll feel and BE better once I'm done. And you'll be immune to timeline changes." "Wh- You're insane! That's not even possible!" Silver protested. To which Sonic replied with a slow change in appearance, starting with an antenna poking out behind his ear. "Maybe for anyone else." One of his gloves turned black and the other disappeared, revealing a robotic hand. "But here's the thing." The sweatsuit twisted and warped into a black cape, revealing a red X on his chest with a silver circle in the center. "I've been running with a new crowd recently." His long, black boots retracted, revealing robotic versions of his lower legs along with black stripes where the white had been. "And they specialize in all the things no one should be able to do." A red visor grew from one side of Sonic's head to the other, and a red halo flared to life behind him, making him look like a dark angel. "So yes, I can do that." The silver circle on his chest opened, revealing a piercing red eye that stared right into Silver's own. Silver, understandably, tried to speak up. "Wait-" But Sonic just sighed, muted his hearing sense, and went to work. Time bent and broke around them. Space writhed and twisted. The universe was dragged into submission as Sonic violently tore Silver away from its laws. Even with the muted hearing, Sonic could hear Silver's ear-splitting cries just from the look on his face and the way his body was flashing and scrambling itself, then unscrambling itself. And it was terrible. But Sonic wouldn't back down. He couldn't. He didn't want to lose a friend. Finally the process ended. Silver lay weakly on the ground, holding his side, and Sonic cradled him, soothing him. "You did good, buddy... I'm so sorry. I wish it didn't have to hurt. It'll make sense soon, I promise. Just... just let me take you home." The blue hedgehog picked Silver up gently and put him to sleep (Sedative power was amazing). Then he looked at the Core. Arms made of shadow swarmed it and covered it. It took five seconds to grind the thing to dust. It had served its purpose, and he couldn't risk anyone else getting a hold of it. Sonic carried Silver into darkness and disappeared. humming a lullaby to the time traveler in his arms. It would be fine. Cybernet would make it fine.

[mistress-alexandria]

“What does she want, then? Her titles back? Money or the crown? Revenge?” Because no Maxson ever sought out the rest of their family because they simply wanted to belong — well, no one except her.

They were speaking of Violet, the newest Maxson to magically come crawling out of the woodwork.

Ryan: He sipped his water again, turning to Alexandria “ His siblings unfortunately passed in their old age, and the only one who survived are their granddaughters they have survived with no family, no inheritance. Freeze has decided to try to make amends and invited one back. One apparently has been here all along, Fatima invited her and she was a handmaiden to her. But Violet “ he lifted the letter “ Violet, he is asking be given a title, as head of the family. “ he rubbed his knuckles together, thinking over it. “ He has a higher rank, than I do. As long as he is presently roaming, he is still head of the family himself. I want, to continue to support you in that role, but I also know because of my failures of reaching out to you, and teaching our customs and knowledge, I know this might hurt you. So, my proposal will be to give the information to your brother, and allow, per custom for him to make the final decision, on who will be the head, and seeing if possible that role can be shared. “ It seems like she desires a purpose.. nothing else. But, as much as freeze is not a good man. He also is very careful..and has always had his reasons. So I think it’s best moving forward we keep away from Ashlynn until we know more information.”

Alex: Alex wanted very much to roll her eyes at the caution about Ashlynn given her meeting with Brennen just hours before. That ship had already sailed far away. But she wasn’t going to tell Ryan that. “I would think that this Violet would be just as unaware of traditions and customs as I am given she didn’t grow up here either, so my lack of historical experience doesn’t really matter here.” She pointed out, a dangerous bite in her tone. “And given we know nothing of her, immediately making her Head if this family is the stupidest course of action.” Ah, there the bluntness was again. “You asked me to take on that roll because I’m not like the rest of this family, and perhaps she is the same, but only time will tell, so this isn’t a decision that should be made quickly or without proper information gathered.” Which is exactly what Caspian would do. He’d make a decision instantly without discovering who this woman was and where her moral compass pointed. Or what agendas she might have. “I would consider sharing it, if she proves herself to be what this family needs. But if I’m stripped of the title completely and made to obey her, then I’m telling you right now, I will leave Snow Mystic of my own choosing.” She was deadly serious. “I’ve gone through hell. I’ve done the work. No one else is telling me how to live my life or how Fallon is going to live her’s.” She had dropped Maxson from her name before, and she’d do it again. She’d do anything to protect her daughter from danger — including her own family.

Ryan: “ Alexandria” he raised his hand “ breathe, your winding up again, I can feel all of your emotions through the wall. I am here to let you know the information, and I am perfectly aware no matter what situation unfolds exactly what you will do, as my dying wish I passed the role from myself to you, as I said because he is roaming around the role is stripped from both of us, it’s important that he, and I, return to what was once.” He was already stressed about the meeting with Morgan, Alexandria full emotions was not something he could handle. “ We have no idea the education she received, she might be clueless, she might know more than she leads. But, since you are going to be married and already have a child, than please allow me to inform you you would be except from being told what to do, that’s part of the rules. It’s important though, you understand as part of the family you would be required to attend family meetings. I think you and I, will go over the exact rules later “ His eyebrows raised up high “ and, if im understanding correctly that was one of the benefits Henry chose to live in The Blackwood isles, your child would be exempt, and the only person who would have command over Henry, is Luca. It’s his region, you will have to obey Luca rules. I have faith your brother will make the right decision. I know you are coming from a place of anger and frustration, but I am asking you to have faith, and if you feel you can not trust your brother word, perhaps you need to talk to Henry before the wedding. I will be gone some day.. all you have left here is your siblings and I can not express to you the important of Caspian, Teagan and Harper. It’s up to you, and it’s up to them how you live.”

Alex: Damn straight she was angry, and she had every right to be. Complete strangers seemed to get more respect and consideration than she did, and she was tired of it. Gathering Fallon up into her arms, she rose to her feet, looking down at where Ryan sat. “I’m sorry, but I lost faith in this family a long time ago. Too much is broken and needs to be changed before we can be an actual family instead of a group of individuals who happen to be related. Restoring my faith in this family will take time.” Years, probably. Teagan was the one she felt the closest with, and they had hated each other before. Teagan likely felt the same way she did because they wanted her to give up on her child and move on. Having her own child — being a mother, Alex knew that was the worst thing to ask a woman to do. “Caspian hasn’t yet earned my trust. He’s still learning how to be a brother while still being a king, but I don’t feel comfortable entrusting my daughter’s fate or my own to him right now.” Not after the entire mess that happened on the way here to Blackwood. Caspian still had a lot to learn. “Attending meetings I am well aware of. I had already planned to do so, which is another reason we chose Aura over living in Barley or Ithilian.” Moving away entirely had certainly been an option, and still was, apparently. “Not knowing anything about her is exactly why the decision shouldn’t be made immediately.” Exactly what she had just said, no? “Caspian is not known for being level headed or logical. You and I both know that.” Hence why she didn’t trust him with this at all. “Once the decision is put in his hands he’s make it without taking the time to get to know this cousin or what she really wants from us.” Because no one came here wanting nothing than to belong. That wasn’t how the Maxson’s worked. “But you are right about one thing. I am angry, and I am frustrated. I’m tired of being a part of a family that doesn’t value me. I have titles that mean absolutely nothing to these people. I speak and no one listens.” Because the same things continued to happen over and over again. The vicious cycle that no one could break. “The four of us, we need to learn how to live and work together. Earn one another’s trust. Until then we won’t be a family. Not like we should be.”

Ryan: The nurse moved to his side, seeing how overwhelmed he was getting, as he patted her hand “ She can say what she needs to say” he answered watching as she picked her child and let out years of her anger and frustration “ I should leave you.. you can keep my cottage” he moved to stand up. “ I am sorry .. I shouldn’t have come back.” With the help of the nurse, the door was pushed open for him, as he weakly pointed to the wooden box. The nurse opened it revealing a veil “ Henry explained to me he plans to cut it for other purposes. “ the nurse would close the box, carrying it out the door. “ I have faith, someday things will be okay for you. Im sorry I am not the father you wanted. I see that nothing I can do or say, can help this situation. Your mother should walk you down the aisle, not me. That’s the person who raised you, and stood by you. “ he was handled his cane, as he moved out the door, wobbling, as he stood outside breathing in the cold air. She, was still the hardest child to be around her bluntness, her truth was overbearing, and difficult to swallow. He was sad to see how much time had passed and how she still looked at him the exact same way. Giving her this important title was his way of making amends, but seeing her anger flash out at him, knowing it wouldn’t be long until he was back in the dirt again, broke his heart. He had individual relationship with each of his children and it saddens him how torn they were with each other. He wobbled to the bench outside, trying to catch his breathe.

Alex: Of course he would run away. He was just as bad as Caspian was. Like father like son. “No, you shouldn’t have come back expecting that everything would be okay. Expecting all of us to be one big, happy family. Because we were never shown what that was supposed to look like.” The Maxsons had never been that, it seemed it started from the very beginning. The family had always been broken, from generation to generation. And no one had figured out how to mend it yet. None of them had been raised to be capable of mending the rift that had begun long before they were even born. They could learn…but that took time, patience, and trust. Two of those things were always in short supply. The other they had plenty of, but probably wouldn’t use wisely. “And because of your choices there was a lot I never got to say to you. Plenty of anger that I’ve held onto for years. Hatred that you seemed to be more a king than a father. Never finding a good balance. That you gave up your life for Harper but you wouldn’t give up your pride for me.” Harper he died for, but he couldn’t have made a far less lethal decision where her banishment was concerned. He chose to do that. Just as he could have chosen not to. That distinction spoke volumes. His decisions helped to foster the breaks between his children. If only he could see that for what it was. “If you so choose, come to my wedding, but that is going to be your decision. Not mine.” Time to see if he would even try to do better with his extra time. Because it didn’t seem like it yet. Shifting Fallon on her hip, she strode away from the cottage to go find Henry and Melody.

Malina: Malina followed behind, pausing to eye him. “Running away won’t solve anyone’s problems, Ryan. Least of all your own. Your children have things they need to get off their chest. Things they didn’t get to say before, Alexandria most of all. She wasn’t here. She didn’t get the extra time the others did. You need to show them what a family is supposed to be. Be their Father equally and without bias. You don’t have a crown on your head anymore, so you’re free to do that, but it also means dealing with everything that being a father comes with. Emotions especially.” She flashed him a supportive smile, then followed after Alexandria back into the night.

[cellgreys]

Tales of xillia 2 milla costumes

Yet they always do when someone says that. After all that crap, we're not finished here. I hope you'll go after the Waymarker with a similar sense of fervor. Good fight to introduce our old friend with. Overall, aside from Rideaux's relative unpredictability, he still doesn't have a whole lot of health or defense, and his elemental weaknesses will be his undoing. It sends out the four magical buzzsaws like normal, but then they change into tornadoes. One arte that is significantly changed is Dancing Bayonet. A few are upgraded, and he does have access to his Mystic Arte, though evidently he did not feel the situation appropriate to use his not-so-trump card right now. He's vulnerable to a lot of elements, and has a wide variety of close and long-range melee artes, though all of his moves generally have a longer reach here. Speaking of the big man, if you chose to fight him way back in Nia Khera, you should have an idea how Rideaux fights. The goons themselves are very much more annoying than they are deadly, but they can throw out healing items (as can a few other human enemies), so you'll want to take them out as soon as possible, hopefully while the AI is keeping Rideaux and his Fauxmatus busy. Give it your all, for Alt Milla's sake.Īlso, Rideaux has a bunch of his goons along for this fight. However, the only way to use it in this fight is if you lose this fight, and are sent back to the menu screen, where you can set it. Since it very much relies on the power of The Four, Alt Milla never got it. In addition, she also has access to her Mystic Arte. The sooner you can get TP-reducing accessories, give them to Milla. It's basically Jude's Healer and Restore in a single move, but beware the AI will drain through Milla's TP really fast. It's Milla's healing move (all characters have at least one), and as well as removing negative status effects from any characters in the blast radius around Milla. All except Undine are straight elemental-damage dealing moves, in their expected categories. So, what's different about Original Milla? Well, she has the power of Efreet, Undine, Sylph, and Gnome at her disposal. In addition to that, it's genuinely a fun, chaotic boss fight with a ton of action and a great battle song. One of my favorite fights in the game, if only because we finally have the one, the only, the original, Milla Maxwell tagging in for us. Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the abyss!Īh this fight. Milla gives us a brief demonstration of The Four. Our.old friend goes over to Elle, who is still holding Alt Milla's sword. How nice of you to join us, Milla Maxwell! Goddammit! Still, she can't give up.not now. This is not good, but we can't abandon Milla, not now. I see you're quite a hit with the kids, phony.ĭamn. You miss Maxwell, don't you? Your beloved wandering spirit. There's no need for you to feign anger, Jude Mathis. Just prior to this, Milla took a swipe at Rideaux, but, continuing the theatrics, he knocked it away and backflipped. Rideaux pulls an Albert Wesker and sends Jude and Alvin flying across the room with the palms of his hands. First of all, you need to have a living circuit. Would you still think I was bluffing if I said Spirius was founded by Kresnik, the first human ever to summon Maxwell? If only the arte weren't so messy. Spirius knows the calculatrics arte for summoning Maxwell. 4 fight, and holds his own pretty damn well. Rideaux proceeds to get himself in a 1 vs. Technically, the Crest is superior to Milla's Elemental Ribbon in terms of raw stats, but the elemental protection the Ribbon gives here is more advantageous than the minor stat gain the Crest resulted in. In the back left corner (from where I currently am), there are a couple chests with a Wind Crest and a Reverse Doll in them. Hey, maybe Marcia's bodyguards were worth a damn. Uhhh.wasn't this Exodus' operation in the first place? Who the hell wasted these guys? Some of the survivors mutter about a man in red attacking them, but for all we know they're making excuses. Part 22: The Woman Who Returns Part XXII: The Woman Who Returns

[buckybarnesdiaries]

a place called home

© credits to the author, i found it on google. if you own it, send me a message to add your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Request by @dora-wolfram-blog: Hi <3 so happy to see your requests are open! How about ex Avenger reader who can manipulate the forces of nature and she comes to help Sam? (Idk maybe calling fish from the sea so his family can sell and earn enough money for the boat?) There she meets Bucky who she briefly met after endgame and they get to know each other? Domestic stuff is my weak spot so thank you so much luv u <3

word count: 1.206 words.

warnings/tags: none. bucky being a gentleman and sam a pain in the ass as always.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Saying that Bucky and you were friends wasn’t something exactly. You fought together a couple of times before you retired from superhero life. Like many of them, the war had finished and you chose calm over being a private agent. More or less like the ex-soldier, with the difference that he went to New York and you didn’t be able to find a home until Sam made you a call. He was quite the opposite of Bucky for you, connecting since the very first second you met. After he told you about his sister’s financial trouble, he offered you a roof to sleep under in exchange for your powers to control the tide and promote the movement of fish stocks. Of course, it was a hit, and you finally found peace in Delacroix. A celebration was inevitable, it was part of Wilsons’ DNA, but you weren’t expecting Bucky to show up with Sam; although he told you in your last call that they were working together. Or something like that.

As soon as your eyes laid on him among the crowd, you knew he had changed after more than six months without seeing each other. You couldn't help but feel happy for Bucky when you saw him smiling for the first time. He had a beautiful and innocent smile, seeming like a new man. Renovated, with want to live, enjoying playing with kids and talking to old men about war stories.

You had placed your back against an oak column, away from the crowd but close enough to check on everyone, in case they need help with anything. A beer was resting against your lips, doubting on continuing drinking, lost in your thoughts. There was something about Bucky going from one side to another, laughing unworried, that had fully captivated your attention. You weren't able to stop looking at him, chuckling when you saw one of Sam's nieces putting a magnet with the form of a crab on his left arm.

“I have that teen-in-love's face on camera”.

You frowned at Redwing some inches away from your face. As a response, you tried to slap it down. But your friend was faster than you controlling that thing.

“He looks good, uh?”

“Oh, shut up…” You replied by clicking your tongue and rolling your eyes, having a sip from your drink to put your eyes away to the sea.

“He asked if you'd be here… Just saying”.

“Shut up, Samuel!” You implored, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

As the night went on and the guests started to leave, Sarah asked you to take Jim and Jody home while she stayed there cleaning with his brother about the business. You were exhausted too, and she noticed it. And after saying your goodbyes, you headed to the parking where your car was stationed, carrying the younger Wilson onto your arms —peacefully sleeping— as his big brother was yawning loudly. At that point, you realized that it was going to be a tough mission to put them in the car.

“Wait! Lemme help”.

The male voice coming from behind you made you turn around and before you could react, Bucky was taking Jody from your arms to his. You smirked softly in response, looking for the key in the right pocket of your jacket to unlock the car. The soldier tucked the younger in the back seat, placing the belt around him as Jim occupied the other side of the SUV.

“It's been good to see you”. You said after closing the door, staying outside in front of him.

“Same”. He replied, not knowing what else to say.

Puckering your lips and clapping the key on your palm, you nodded with your chin, feeling the nerves running through your veins. “Good night, Bucky”.

“Good night, (Y/N)”.

You gave him your back, sighing inappreciably, to open the pilot's place and came in.

“He— Hey, wait”.

“Uh?”

“Sam told me… you were tired. I might give you a ride back home. I can wait for him there”. The offering made you glance towards him, already sitting in your car but with a leg rest on the ground. “If you want, I mean…”

Of course he did (...). That son of a bitch had the audacity to push you onto the other. You bit your inner cheek, landing your eyes on the wheel. Yes, you were tired. You woke up at five to sail with Sarah, then you organized the party and cooked for it. You hadn't had a single second of rest during the whole day. And Sam took advantage of it, feeling like he was some kind of Cupido. And you had to recognize that it was also very considerate coming from Bucky.

“I'd appreciate it… actually”. You ended up agreeing, stepping out to give him the keys and ceding your seat.

The ride was silent between the two of you, hearing some quiet indie music playing on the radio while you fought against your brain to stay awake. Luckily, it didn't take him too long to reach Sarah's house —although you were barely keeping your eyes open at this point. Again, he helped you with the kids, walking indoors and following you to their respective rooms. You tucked Jim and Jody on their beds, making sure they were comfy before placing a kiss on their foreheads and wishing them a good night. Bucky had rested his back against the wall, in front of the elder’s room, just waiting for you. And you could swear that you saw him briefly smirking because of the tenderness in your actions.

After closing the last door, you waved your head to urge him to follow you downstairs to the living room. With an exhausted sigh escaping your lips, you let your body fall on the sofa, curling on a side of it to give Bucky some space. You couldn’t help but yawn, turning on the TV by using the control remote.

“It’s good to have a home to come back”.

“Yeah… After all the shitty situations we’ve been through… We deserved a rest, don’t you think?” You replied grabbing a cushion from the floor, using it as a pillow over the armrest. “Sorry, I… I’m deadly tired…”

“Come here, that will hurt when you wake up”.

Bucky didn’t hesitate on beckoning to his arms, taking off his boots heel against heel to place both legs over the coffee table. You didn’t resist, knowing it would be comfier by his way. Sitting up, you lied to the opposite side, being wrapped instantly and snuggled against his warm body. Shameless, you rest your head on his right forearm, practically laying over his lap. But you felt good. You felt like it was a good reward after a long day, rolling down your eyelids and focusing on the caresses in your hair you didn’t know you needed.

For a moment, your mind wandered and fantasized about this last hour being part of your real life. Putting your kids to sleep and then cuddle with your husband till falling asleep. Smell Bucky’s strong and edgy scent. Your hands scratching his back. His fingertips stroking your scalp. Your legs laced (...)

Oh, God, Sam. What did you do?

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[curlsofsagesmoke]

TMNT (2012) characters as dysfunctional family roles

here I go again analyzing a kids show that ended four years ago. anyway, I saw a tiktok by user doinbigthink where they gave a quick overview of the six kinds of dysfunctional family roles, and I immediately thought of tmnt bc it’s my current hyperfixation. so I spent almost an hour doing research and writing up this analysis, as one does.

as a preface: dysfunction in a family can be caused by anything from someone struggling with addiction to a parent being abusive or unavailable/neglectful to someone having narcissistic personality disorder (npd) etc. etc. Usually there is one person who is the root cause of this (very deep seated) dysfunction and the others in the family (often the kids) fall into these roles in order to cope.

Leo: The Hero

The Hero is often the oldest child. They cope with the dysfunction in the family by being high achievers or perfectionists, and they need a sense of control in order to feel safe within the family. They are seen as very well-adjusted, balanced, and high-functional and are often used as an example of how well the family as a whole is doing. They may allow this misconception to continue (whether consciously or unconsciously) in order to hide the family’s problems. They may be parentified as children (that is, forced to take on a parental role for their younger siblings) and usually feel a lot of pressure to solve the family’s issues. With Leo in particular, you see these two behaviors in the way he approaches leading his brothers as well as the way he obsessed over bringing Karai into the family for Splinter’s sake after discovering her true identity. As an adult, the Hero is often drawn toward romantic partners who are emotionally unavailable (again, see Leo’s crush on Karai) and tend to throw themselves into their work (Leo’s obsession with ninjutsu)

Leo: The Golden Child

The Golden Child is not a dysfunctional family role but instead describes a relationship that develops between a parent/guardian with npd and one of the children in the family. In these cases, the parent tends to favor the Golden Child because the Golden Child exhibits all the traits the parent loves in themselves. In Splinter and Leo’s case, these characteristics are their devotion to ninjutsu, their general temperaments, and their more spiritual/mystic natures. There are MANY examples of this favoritism in TMNT canon; for example, Splinter teaching Leo his reiki technique (the healing hands) in “the deadly venom” because everyone things Leo is the most capable of learning such an advanced technique (in the episode, Donnie says that he doesn’t think anyone else on the team could’ve done what Leo did, i.e. using the healing hands on himself and saving the others from karai). The parent has a volatile relationship with the Golden Child and often their love is conditional (that is, the parent will favor the Golden Child as long as the Golden Child continues to act like the parent). Because of this, the Golden Child often has trouble establishing an independent identity (see: Raph calling Leo “Splinter Jr.”, though I can’t remember if this happens in 2012 or just in the 2003 version). The Golden Child may also participate in the narcissistic parent’s abuse against the other children in order to protect themself (this is less explicit in canon, but I think that Leo’s leadership style fits this bill)

Raph: The Scapegoat

The Scapegoat is often the second child. As the name suggests, they are often blamed for things that go wrong in the family regardless of whether it was actually their fault or not. Scapegoats are often very aware of their position in the family and as a result they may feel rejected, isolated, and unlovable. I think a good example of Raph feeling like this is the fact that, early in the show, he only openly expresses his emotions to Spike. Scapegoats learn that negative attention is better than no attention (especially from a parent/guardian) and they often engage in high risk behaviors such as sex, drugs, etc. (in Raph’s case, his reckless fighting style and the way he seeks out fights, and this also explains his temper and overall angry demeanor). Because of this, they tend to get into a lot of trouble and are often singled out as the child who needs individual help (aka therapy) even though the root problems lie with the family as a unit. In cases where the parent has npd the Scapegoat is often pitted against the Golden Child. This is called splitting and it is another way to distract from the family’s deeper issues. I feel like I don’t need to explain the way that Leo and Raph are pitted against each other.

Donnie: The Lost Child

The Lost Child, as the name implies, often fades into the background. Usually this is on purpose in an effort to keep themself safe, as they might be scared to draw attention to themself or rock the boat, especially in an abusive household. They may often feel ignored or neglected and are often described as loners who have difficulty developing social skills or self-esteem. Like the Hero, the Lost Child is often used as an example of the family’s stability and success because they aren’t causing trouble. They tend to struggle when forming friendships/romantic relationships, and they are usually praised for not needing a lot of attention/being independent. Because of this, they feel safer when they’re by themselves. Although Donnie does cause trouble sometimes (see: all the times he’s blown some shit up in the lab, the Mutagen man thing, etc.), he’s not seen as the troublemaker. Raph (and Mikey, to a certain extent) definitely takes that title. Donnie is often alone in his lab---working, admittedly, but he still tends to isolate himself, and he is often seen as the most socially awkward of the brothers (see: his relationship with April). There’s also this very interesting exchange from the episode “Enemy of My Enemy” when they’re in the Shellraiser and Leo is about to take the stealth bike to help Karai:

Raph: Hey, the stealth bike’s my thing. Leo: Now your thing is sucking it up. Donnie: Hey! That’s my thing!

Mikey: The Mascot

The Mascot is often the youngest child. They use humor and goofiness to diffuse tension and distract the family from their issues, though when this works, they feel increased pressure to continue to step in when things become tense or volatile. The Mascot acts from a place of anxiety and trauma, and they may have bouts of depression. They also tend to feel as though they cannot express their negative emotions (because they often see themselves as responsible for their family’s happiness). They tend to bend over backwards for people with little regard for their own safety/comfort, and they are drawn to intense and dysfunctional relationships (whether romantic or platonic) where they will be called upon to diffuse tension. This can be seen in the way Mikey approached his friendships with both Bradford (pre-mutation) and Leatherhead. Mikey is also very rarely shown as being sad, angry, or depressed the way that the other three are, and it’s only in times of extreme emotional distress (like the season two finale) where he drops his humor. Even in the midst of tough battles or tough situations, Mikey tends to insert himself into the middle of the tension and is almost constantly cracking jokes or trying to keep things lighthearted. When he does show more negative emotions, it’s in (mostly) one of two ways. One, giving comfort or seeking comfort, usually from Raph (again see the season two finale, where he hugs Raph to calm him down after Splinter “dies” and seeks comfort from Raph in the Party Wagon as they’re driving away from the city). Two, acting combative with Donnie.

Note: Mikey and Donnie acting combative

This second one in particular is really interesting to me because both Donnie and Mikey exhibit a level of comfort/feeling safe with each other that they don’t display with the other two. Mikey only ever gets physical with Donnie (their little slap fight in “Turtle Temper” or attacking him at the end of “The Creeping Doom”), while Donnie only ever purposefully antagonizes Mikey to get a reaction (slapping him in “Turtle Temper”, which prompts the slap fight, or teasingly insulting him at the end of “The Creeping Doom”, which prompts Mikey to attack him). Mikey likes to get under Raph’s skin, but he never retaliates when Raph gets physical with him. Donnie does occasionally argue with Raph and Leo, but usually backs down after Raph threatens him with violence (see “New Girl in Town”), and with Leo it never escalates past a verbal fight (see the season two finale, “the fourfold trap”). Actually, it seems that in Mikey’s and Donnie’s relationship, they take on the roles that you usually see in Raph’s and Mikey’s relationship. Mikey antagonizes Raph and Raph retaliates; similarly, Donnie antagonizes Mikey and Mikey retaliates, but neither of them would act this way toward their other two brothers.

Splinter: The Root of the Dysfunction

I’ve made a lot of allusions by now to Splinter having npd, or at least some narcissistic tendencies. There are many times where he shows favoritism toward Leo or acts in a very stubborn or even self-absorbed manner. In the season one finale, for example, he refuses to help the turtles fight and only leaves the lair after april is kidnapped by the shredder. In “the pulverizer returns”, he makes the turtles switch weapons (for literally no good reason), they almost die in a fight and switch back, and as punishment, he takes their weapons away entirely; this isn’t addressed in the episode, but i do believe that if they’d had their weapons, they could’ve prevented timothy from being mutated in this episode. (Admittedly there are times when he apologizes, admits he’s wrong, and changes his mind, which is why I hesitate to say he exhibits fully narcissistic behaviors). There’s also the physical aspect of their relationship. He’s teaching the turtles ninjutsu, so you can expect a very physical relationship in the form of training, but there are times when he causes the turtles pain for the sake of pain as punishment (e.g. randori, which we see a few times, or when he goes for their pressure points, or when he trips mikey in the episode “monkey brains”, or when he stabs raph with his cane in the episode “turtle temper”, and these are just the examples i can think of off the top of my head). There has been discourse in the fandom about whether these characters (splinter and raph in particular) are abusive, and i don’t want to get into that. However, i think it’s undeniable that splinter raised his kids with the intent to turn them into child soldiers, and also i fully believe that this (plus his parenting style) is the root of the dysfunction in the hamato family.

[starksinner]

Rest

Summary: Charles takes care of you after a job goes terribly wrong.

Pairing: Charles Smith x Reader

Warnings: Heavy depictions of Violence, Blood, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Fluff, Implications of Sexual Harassment/Assault, Mention of Dissociation

Author's Note: I haven't written in what feels like a lifetime, so I apologize if this is a mess. Either way, the lack of Charles Smith fics across this website and others is downright a crime, so this is my "fine, I'll do it myself" moment. I hope I do some justice to (one of) the best characters in the Red Dead universe. I hope you enjoy reading, y'all!

AO3 Link

The bruised grass of The Heartlands scrape against the skin of your ankles and calloused feet as you are led from the wide-open prairies into the privacy of an austere and diminutive forest.

The air is moist with remnants of rainfall. Petrichor and the scent of nature tickles your senses as your bare feet meet the soiled ground of the woods.

In your mind, loud and boisterous, rumbles an orchestra of deafening thunder and screaming. The pounding of your head originates from the open and festering wounds that continuously pulsate from the split skin of your sensitive scalp — seething and oozing.

Your hands tremble as they are softly caressed and held within the palms of another, the caring touch calming and guiding as you find yourself threatening to slip off the face of the Earth.

When Charles whispers your name, the most delicate reminder of your existence, you can’t help but whine and whimper pathetically. You force your eyes shut as you fester in a cloud of anger and pride, condemning your humanity and the fragility of your own body as a soaring pain runs up the curve of your torso.

You breathe heavily as you groan and peer down at Charles’ language of love: touch — his ethereal touch, displayed by the tender interconnection of his fingers with your own. A familiar scarlet liquid has crept and dried into the small crevices of your fingers, serving as a grisly reminder of the evening’s barbarous events.

“Men love underestimatin’ a woman in a frilly dress,” you splutter softly, the task of speaking suddenly foreign. “Used their idiocy t’my advantage, but I ain’t too sure the price was worth it.”

Charles gives you a look that reflects that of solemnity rather than one of silent derision. You, like many individuals whose identities cause them persecution, prefer to be given a look that serves as a reminder of the severity of a situation rather than a look of belittlement. That look — the one of silent derision — is well known to you as you’ve watched it be used by men as a means of reprimanding and reminding women of their weakness, naivete, and disorder of hysteria.

Charles wasn’t most men, though. Charles was fair, liberal, and wise — no matter how much he’d quietly argue with you over such labels. He admired and encouraged your strength, both in the physical and intellectual sense. Before you even understood your love for him, you had viewed him as a mystical wonder — an actual man among men. He never viewed you as lesser or judged you unjustly. He took you as you were — in all your strength and all your weakness, with all your stubbornness and all your recklessness.

“You were only protecting yourself,” he asserts calmly, his brown eyes observing yours. ”Those men were...savages. They would’ve killed us if you didn’t hurt them first.”

Like most situations that have transpired the past couple of months, Charles held his head and was right — you knew he was right.

Haphazardly, you grip onto Charles’ hands harder, willing off the tears of discomfort that blur your irises.

“I...I don’t know where my dress stops and where I begin,” you murmur, frowning as you see his features drop sadly.

A deep maroon, the dress you wear is tailored to attract the eyes of desperate men and curious travelers. The bodice is silk and accessorized with a corset that shapes and accentuates that of which men drool and desire. Now, the lengthy ruby material is ripped and caked in pools of dried blood and other human materials you dare not to think about.

Your arms, neck, and chest are redder than the dress, dried patches of red and brown mementos from your slain enemies. You crave ripping off your skin and ridding yourself of the deadly feeling and sight of your sins.

“Camp is right over the hills through here,” Charles notes, pressing his fingers lightly under your chin. “Close your eyes and just focus on your breathing. Let me carry you, love.”

You melt into his soft touch, your face scrunching in defeat as a loud sob escapes you. “I hate killing, Charles. I hate it and I hate myself for it. It was...me or them, I know. That man said he wanted me to...I just…”

“I know,” he whispers. Without any trouble, as if you were a mere pelican feather, Charles hooks his arm under your knees and holds you to his chest. He swiftly carries you through the woods and into the open plains, navigating his way back to Horseshoe Overlook. He gently coos and whispers into your ear sweet assurances as you cry justly. “Nearly there, love.”

---

You felt dissociated from your own body as Charles helped you strip out of your ruined dress, kissing, caressing, and whispering to you all the right things. He helped you wash yourself by a nearby lake, lathering your skin with soap and pressing soft kisses against any apparent scratches and blooming bruises.

What was supposed to be a quick con job just north of Valentine, turned into a full fledged bloodbath. Your role was a simple and tired one — dressed as a rich simpleton, you were to distract some revenue agents and pose as a woman found lost on her wary travels. Charles, the silent hunter, would rummage through the agents’ wagons in search of the lock box that you had on good authority was carrying a wealthy prize.

It was easy — a con that you’ve been participating in since your rebel days with Arthur, both of you incredibly spry and dramatic in your teen years.

Things took a drastic turn as you spotted a third wagon headed in Charles’ direction, just as you were chatting up and charming a lanky looking agent. In a last attempt at distraction, you placed your hand against the agent’s chest and began flirting with him, making his eyes wander to your red painted lips and nearly exposed chest.

Alas, the third wagon of revenue agents had spotted Charles — causing a boom of gunshots and shouts to echo across the plains. Your body immediately tensed until you spotted your love hiding behind a boulder, shooting off his Springfield Rifle into the growing crowd of agents. You acted on pure instinct as you swiftly reached under your skirt, gripping your knife, and slicing the throat of the agent in front of you. His blood splattered across your face as he choked, whined, and fell to the ground at your feet. You grabbed the Bolt Action Rifle from his dead grip and began firing into the agents around you, covering yourself behind one of the large wagons.

It wasn’t until you heard Charles struggle and shout that things took a gory route. He was fighting against a brawny agent that had pinned him to the ground, both men grunting and punching for dominance. You no longer considered your own wellbeing as you kicked off your shoes and sprinted towards him, shooting the agent straight in the head and another three of them as they screamed and barreled towards the both of you. You took hold of the left side of the field while Charles ran to another empty boulder and flanked the right. Both of you fought to pick off the pack of revenue agents that had seemingly swarmed the area, reloading your guns and bearing the pain of flesh wounds resulting from incoming bullets.

Just as you thought you were in the clear, the air was knocked straight out of your lungs as your head smashed against the side of the wagon and you were pushed, face first,  into the solid ground.

“You enjoy playing with guns, sweet thing?” The man on top of you grunted and gripped your neck as you thrashed and struggled below him. He dropped his knee against your lower spine, causing a mantra of curses to pass your lips as you promised death upon him.

“You got some mouth on you,” he groaned into your ear, holding you down harder as you continued to scream and fight beneath him. “I’m gonna take you in. Teach you how to kneel an’ please me good with my dick in your mouth, sweet thing.”

Suddenly, the commotion of gunshots leapt into a dreary silence, causing the man above you to turn his attention to the sudden absence of noise.

In your panic, you heard Charles scream your name.

With all your strength, you growled and practically bucked the agent off of you, reaching forward for your knife and whipping around to kick the man where it truly hurts the most.

The coward wailed on the ground and gripped his manhood, cursing you out as he shuffled backwards in fear. You spat and stalked towards him, your chest heaving and your eyes only seeing red. You pressed your right foot into the agent’s abdomen, hard, squatting down and positioning the tip of your blade near his chest.

“I hope hell burns extra hot for you, sweet thing.” You sneered at his visible fear and hurled the blade into the man’s chest — over and over, you plunged your knife into the agent’s body as blood poured from his mouth and he gaped at you with wide, dying eyes.

Blood poured from your scalp down to your face, your side screamed in agony, every inch of your skin was matted with blood that wasn’t your own — you stabbed until you physically felt the soul of the man beneath you leave his body.

That’s how Charles had found you, still and motionless, covered in blood and lost in your head as he called out for you and led you away from the strew of dead bodies.

---

“I need you,” you speak softly, breaking the night’s silence. You and Charles were under the protection of your tent: he’d been crafting poultice for your inflamed wounds while you’d been attempting to find pleasure in a bowl of Pearson’s stew. Your mind couldn’t stop racing and mulling over the day’s events.

You craved a distraction. You craved Charles.

“Charles?”

“Not tonight,” he murmurs. He speaks with an unwavering finality but with no anger, upset, or aggression. “You need rest. The both of us.”

You frown, like a child. “I just...I’m…”

“I know.” He places the cloth he was working with down and shuffles his way over to you, gripping the blanket by your feet and putting it over your body. He wordlessly noticed you had been shivering, wrapped only in your thin chemise. “When we’ve both recovered, we can share each other...It’s been a long day and I don’t want the love I have for you to pose as a distraction from the pain.”

You snuggle into his side, basking in his scent of ginseng and cedar, and nod against him. He was right, he was always right. “I...I love you, Charles. So, so much. You’re...everything and more to me.”

“And you to me.” He presses his lips against your temple, making sure not to touch the bandages against your scalp. He too takes in your scent, sprinkles of honey and peaches, a smell that proves to be his home and final landing.

He watches your eyelids flutter shut and lets you lay against your shared mattress, pressing a final day’s kiss against your warmed cheek. He is satisfied by your peaceful reflection. “I’ll wake you in the morning for coffee, my love. Get some rest now.”

Charles' sweet whispers are your last rememberings of the day as you drift off into a calming dreamland.

[lettheladylead]

The Golden Heir Chapter 7 - Family [Ch1] [Ch2] [Ch3] [Ch4] [Ch5] [Ch6] [Ch8]

Goldie didn’t know what to do. She thought Scrooge would’ve found a way out of this nonsense by now!

Watching Black Heron perish hadn’t been the treat she always imagined it would be. It’d been terrifying, instead, as Goldie watched the villain disappear into a bright red light. Next it could be her. It could be Twenty-Two or Della or Donald, who were kneeling next to her and looking just as helpless and scared.

But instead of finding a loophole or taking down Bradford in a surprisingly suave swoop, Scrooge was just mumbling over this paperwork and trying to buy time. Goldie knew stalling when she saw it and just hoped that meant Scrooge had some sort of back-up plan in the works.

“You need some incentive!” Bradford said angrily after sending a blast of energy towards Scrooge. “Perhaps the life of your most trusted ally?”

Goldie breathed a sigh of relief, happy to know that wasn’t anywhere near her role in Scrooge’s life. She did, however, immediately fear for Donald, and struggled a bit against her chains as did Beakley and Della.

He skulked over to Donald and picked him up like he was a toy, holding him over the vortex without hesitation.

“Donald!” Scrooge screamed as Donald cried and shook in fear.

Goldie stared at the scene before her and felt her eyes start to water. She knew, realistically, this wasn’t her fault. Bradford’s beef with Scrooge had nothing (mostly nothing?) to do with her. But she led them to Dickie. If she had to guess, they probably used Dickie to get that Papyrus. If she’d just let Black Heron kill her, they wouldn’t have been able to get it.

“What will it be, Scrooge? Adventure? Or your family?”

She looked down at Scrooge. He was going to find a way out of this, wasn’t he?

“You have til the count of five. One…”

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

Goldie looked stunned. She’d never seen him give up so quickly. She’d never seen him give up at all before...except when it came to her. Surely this had to be part of his plan...he couldn’t give up adventuring. That was everything to him.

“No, don’t! Find a way out!” Donald screamed, still struggling in Bradford’s grasp. “You can beat him!”

“...it’s not worth the risk, lad,” Scrooge said softly, taking out a pen.

Goldie watched in awed silence as Scrooge signed the Papyrus. Adventure was such a vague term. If he couldn’t go on any kinds of adventure - nothing magical or mystical or worldly or secret...then she didn’t know where she stood. She could still go wherever she wanted, but it wasn’t worth it without him.

No one made a sound as Scrooge was surrounded by magical yellow light and he floated up into the air. He gasped as the Papyrus’ chains wrapped themselves around him and slowly forced him back to the ground. Goldie and the others just watched in miserable realization...the bad guy had won.

“I did it!” Bradford said happily. “The great Scrooge McDuck, now only a poor old man!”

Scrooge had never looked so defeated. Goldie felt her heart break.

“Normally I wouldn’t indulge in petty villainy, but since this is a special occasion…”

Bradford dropped Donald towards the vortex, laughing evilly as the duck tumbled towards oblivion, while Scrooge and Della screamed out in shock and pain. Goldie felt numb as she watched a duck she’d known for so long - and known as one of the kindest, genuinely well meaning people she’d ever met - head for an untimely death.

“Ow!”

“...ow?”

“Ow?”

Goldie blinked and leaned over the edge to see the vortex had disappeared and Donald had managed to get free of his chains. She wanted to revel in the joy of seeing one of her favorites of the McDuck family still alive, but as the red triplet’s voice reached her ears, Bradford was already back on his plan.

“No! No more adventures!” he screamed down at the kid - and she wondered who else was down there with him - before diving past the three ducks still chained on the ledge and drawing his sword with intention clear.

Scrooge screamed out and Goldie closed her eyes. She couldn’t save him this time. He was going to die and all she could do was sit there and listen.

Instead, she heard the clang of metal against metal.

“Get away from my grandpa!”

Goldie’s eyes widened and she struggled against her chains, shuffling her legs to move closer to the stairs so she could see what the hell was happening. Beakley and Della followed suit, clearly curious as to what was going on.

“Wait, what?!”

She looked down and saw exactly what she feared: Dickie was not just in danger, and not just with Scrooge, but she was holding a broken cane up to a giant magical sword wielded by a homicidal maniac. That was the opposite of the safe, danger-free lifestyle she’d tried to give her.

Webby and Dewey immediately flew down and kicked Bradford in the face, giving Dickie time to get away from him and rush towards Scrooge.

“You need to get out of here!” Dickie shouted, tugging on his arm.

Scrooge just struggled against the magical chains that disappeared and reappeared over and over again. “I can’t!”

As Louie ran around to grab the contract off the ground, Bradford gave chase and Dickie stayed with Scrooge to keep trying to get him to move. She watched helplessly as the kids ran for their lives and Gyro, Gandra, and Ludwig got blasted by a painful-looking blast of energy.

As Bradford transformed, Goldie, Della, and Beakley managed to wrangle their way out of their chains and the two McDuck Manor residents immediately rushed towards the villain, ready to fight for their lives. Goldie, on the other hand, tossed her chains to the side and rushed towards Dickie, who was visibly shaking in fear while still trying to stay strong for Scrooge.

“Lass, you need to get out of here,” Scrooge said to her sternly.

Dickie shook her head and sobbed. “But I just...I just learned about you now, I can’t lose you already!”

Scrooge looked both confused and sad at the strangely familiar teenager crying over him and wished he could reach out and comfort her somehow. As he opened his beak to say something, he was cut off by a voice he hadn’t heard in weeks.

“Dickie!” Goldie shouted, suddenly grabbing the girl by her wrist. “You need to get away from here! Come on!”

The teen didn’t fight as Goldie pulled her away, running in the opposite direction of Bradford’s fighting. Goldie glanced back at Scrooge with a sad, guilty expression, and Scrooge stared back incredulously. “Goldie?!”

As they ran away from the fight, Bradford flew over Scrooge and the kids and started powering up the sword for one final, deadly attack. Dickie pulled her arm out of Goldie’s grasp and stood her ground. “We can’t run away!”

“Yes, we can, they’ll be fine!” Goldie shouted, trying to grab her granddaughter’s arm again. “They’re the McDucks! They can take care of themselves!”

“But...I’m a McDuck, too!” Dickie said angrily, taking a step back.

Goldie stared at her sadly, then looked behind her to see Donald protecting Scrooge with a piece of the vortex chamber that fell apart. She looked back at Dickie and gave her a small smile. “...yeah, you are. And no kid of Scrooge’s is gonna run away from a fight, huh?”

Dickie smiled and reached out a hand, which Goldie grabbed with only a smidge of hesitation. They ran towards the rest of the family and joined them in holding up the one thing protecting Scrooge from death.

Goldie didn’t think about how it felt to be working alongside the family she’d known and avoided for so many years. She didn’t want to think about how long she’d kept Dickie from this group of people who would do absolutely anything for the people they considered family. How Goldie had never been a part of that before, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be a part of it now.

Louie and Huey ran up to join them and huddled over the contract.

“The only way to break the Papyrus’ spell...is to find a contradiction on the Papyrus!”

“This contract’s air-tight! Scrooge only gets his family if he gives up adventure!”

The four kids who’d spent the last few years together echoed a simultaneous DING! before Huey took the lead again.

“Bradford! Your contract is flawed!”

The buzzard stopped in his attack. “What? Impossible!”

The shield went down and Goldie backed away, feeling the confidence radiating from Scrooge’s kids. They’d won and he was going to be alright...and she didn’t need to be there any longer.

“I worked on that contract for thirty years! Went over it with the finest tooth combs!”

Goldie took another look at Dickie’s back before turning to make her usual silent escape.

“According to this, Scrooge can be with his family as long as he doesn’t adventure!”

Completely by accident, she lifted her head and made eye contact with Scrooge, who was cycling between hopeful and desperate and tired and confused. She couldn’t look away from him. Her heart pounded in her chest like it never had before.

“But family is the greatest adventure of all!” Huey shouted.

“That’s...the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. There’s no way that-”

Goldie turned back towards the rest of the family and Bradford, her feet refusing to move, and witnessed the Papyrus float into the air and disintegrate into nothing.

Bradford screeched in agony and reached out for the pieces of the contract, dropping the sword and sending one final blast towards the family. Goldie didn’t even have time to react as she realized the blast was headed right towards Dickie and Webbigail.

Scrooge, on the other hand, finally broke free of his magical chains and rushed towards the girls, tackling them both to the ground just as the blast singed the top of his hat.

Goldie breathed a sigh of relief as Scrooge and the girls nodded at each other before getting up to enjoy Bradford’s angry screams.

“I will not lose to Scrooge!”

“You didn’t lose to me,” Scrooge said with a confident smirk. “You lost to my family!”

“All of them.”

Goldie turned around to see a variety of people all walking up to stand behind Scrooge both physically and emotionally. She looked at him and felt an unfamiliar sense of pride mixed with her usual complicated feelings of love and adoration. He looked good in that moment. Strong and sincere. She knew she’d softened up quite a bit after spending time with Sharpie, but seeing Scrooge and his family standing tall together was making her heart do backflips.

Dickie walked over to Goldie and grabbed her hand, smiling softly. “Thanks for staying, Granny.”

Goldie rolled her eyes and scoffed, ignoring the conversation between Bradford and some familiar faces in Scrooge’s life and choosing to focus on how nice it felt to be with people she loved. Maybe she could stand to do it more often.

They both looked up to see Scrooge talking to Webby, who proceeded to hug him tight and then point directly at the two blondes. He looked back down at the girl he’d known for so long - his clone, apparently, which was giving him all sorts of confusing feelings - and then back up at the girl he’d never met before.

Goldie felt an urge to get away before this confrontation that she never wanted to have, but Dickie held tightly onto her hand and wouldn’t let go. Scrooge walked over to them and smiled.

“...grandpa?”

Dickie smiled awkwardly and let go of Goldie’s hand to wrap her arms around herself. “...yeah, um...my name’s Dickie. It’s nice to meet you!”

He looked over at Goldie who was avoiding his eyes, but when she felt his hand wrap around two of her fingers and tug her a bit closer to him, she couldn’t keep herself from him. Too much had happened for her to just walk away...she had to make it right.

“...surprise?” she said with a small smile.

Scrooge breathed out a short laugh and pulled both of them into a big hug. Dickie hugged back without hesitation, but Goldie’s face turned red and she stuffed her face into his shoulder to avoid looking at anyone else. She was fine with PDA but only when she was the one initiating it. The loved feeling he was giving her was overwhelming.

She looked up to see Louie and Webby and Della and Donald giving her similarly smirky smiles and Goldie sighed before finally wrapping her free arm around Scrooge’s back and holding him close. She loved him so, so much and was so happy he was safe. But there was no way she’d say something that sappy, so maybe a hug would be enough.

He finally pulled away from them and smiled happily, one of his hands still intertwined with Goldie’s. “Come back to the manor. Both of you,” Scrooge said.

Goldie looked down at their hands and then up at Dickie, who was clapping her hands in excitement. Dickie cheered, “I’ve always wanted to see the inside of that place! It looks awesome!”

The older woman sighed, but she couldn’t pretend to be annoyed. “...alright. Sure.”

Scrooge smiled brightly and leaned forward, capturing Goldie’s beak in a sudden kiss that it made her cheeks light up in embarrassment. He pulled away as fast as he started, but gave her a look that made her think going back to the manor would be the best decision of her life.

He let go of Goldie’s hand and looked back at the rest of his family. “We do need to talk, Goldie Girl. But...it’s been a long day.”

“You have no idea how long of a day it’s been,” Goldie mumbled, thinking back to her weeks of imprisonment.

“So we’ll talk tomorrow,” he said softly. “And...Dickie?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.”

[vore-scientist]

Like A Good Neighbor (sfw safe vore)

[M/nb vore with fearplay. safe soft oral non-sexual]

A tale of the Mystic Woods! Featuring Yonah HaEsh and Myran the Dwarf Witch and many other fun characters!

A story of bad first impressions and making new friends! Lots of GT, and a cute little adventure at a magical farmer’s market!

Warning: Careful there are references to Fa.tal! An example would be “ogres are far more likely to eat smallfolk than giants!” (implying that said actions are deadly). That is the extent of such references!

Other warning: mild harm during the immediate post-vore scene. Yonah just goes a little too far in scaring Myran.

——/——////——

“Did you hear?”

“Have you been told?”

“A new resident!”

“I haven’t checked it out myself! But Ms Zukkar told me-”

“A wizard!”

“Didn’t there used to be an old sorcerer there?”

“-new guy’s a witch!”

“So, hear about that new giant!”

“A giant wouldn’t fit in that tower! And wizards is all human!”

“A criminal, on the run they say”

“Maybe a magician? They like towers sometimes!”

“His Majesty wouldn’t hire a criminal!”

“-supposed to be evil?”

There were so many rumors being flung around that the dwarf witch Myran Gamadin decided to see for themselves and set out to investigate. Undoubtedly there was a new resident. The story was that he was a Mage, and a criminal, but also just expelled from The Academy of Wizardry. And a giant? That was strange, the old tower was much too small for a giant! Even if it was magic it was only 10ft taller than your average giant in the first place. However… they did hear about the trial of a giant recently… stuff that happened in the civilized court didn’t really concern those in the Woods.

“Why would you go to see a villain? You’re not evil!”

The World’s Largest™ Maine Coon cat trotted alongside the handsome young dwarf, looking more like an oddly fluffy pony than a cat.

“It’s important to know your neighbors! Even the evil ones!”

Siv flicked his tail up into his witch’s face.

“And he’s got to be just a young man! So young and the expectations on evil mages is so high! He will appreciate a friendly face!” Myran had done the math. If this Mage hadn’t even graduated from The Academy, he was at most 23. Unless he started his education late. But they doubted this.

“Why are we walking! You have your broom!” the cat complained.

“That’s for the tower, Siv. It’s one of those designed by assholes who think it’s clever to have the only entrance be the window at the top.”

“Hrfff,” said Siv.

“Do you think he will appreciate the house-warming gift? I didn’t really spend much time on it…”

“Fresh fish would be better.”

“Maybe if he were a cat. This is for a Mage.”

“Clippings of magical plants? Maybe for another witch. This is someone who was studying Wizardry.”

“Wizards use magical plants too!”

“Yeah, they buy them from witches!”

As the pair stepped out of the trees, they froze.

“I think he’ll like the gift,” Siv admitted as he And Myran stood in awe at the largest magical garden either of them had ever seen.

It wasn’t even finished yet! Plots of earth were freshly turned, and piles of wood, half built into beds that lay in patterns across the clearing. And massively spread apart. At least 3 meters between plots. And the finished ones. Well. They already had some amazing specimens. Even if they were just sprouting. Myran noticed the Twisted WyrmFern and harpy’s breath; delicate, but common magical plants that were being used to test out the soil. It was working great.

The garden did make Myran worry a bit.

Maybe this wasn’t a wizard at all! It could be a witch. And he could be very evil indeed. Even evil witches treated their gardens with the utmost care and attention.

But they had come this far. And the tower that looked over the garden was calling to them. Well. Not really. The green-black thorny vines screamed “STAY AWAY!” But when one had a flying broomstick, one didn’t need to heed such warnings.

Flipping their broom around like a baton, they sat side saddle and Siv hopped on the end, somehow managing to balance his prodigious fluff. They took off. And flew into the window.

“WOAAAHHH!”

It was like hitting an unexpected and large wave on a boogie board, but a magical one that flowed through the body! And Myran had never been to the ocean, so it made their brain swim.

The room, which from the outside looked normal, was anything but. The rumors of this being a giant were not just rumors.

This place was HUGE!

And yet, it was much too small.

Growing up, Myran had visited some giant villages with their family. They hadn’t been THAT much smaller then, but the houses and items in the village were definitely much larger. While giant mages certainly existed, they had their own traditions and made their own supplies.

This looked exactly like the workshop for a young wizard, with additions for the wizard being a giant. It was wild to see some of the common arcane tools at such an immense scale.

Flying over, Myran saw that the resident Mage had an ancient book under a magnifying glass, and had been translating it, with notes and commentary. Spell equations and diagrams were additionally copied in a dedicated smaller notebook.

While it was surely a fascinating read, they could tell at a glance the notes were somewhere in the middle of an involved spell, and they didn’t want to be the reason the Mage lost his place. The workbench had plenty of other diverting materials.

Siv had no interest in such things and curled up against the base of the magnifying glass. The sun hit the metal through the window, making it quite warm.

Myran put their broom down and explored the desk. There were several magical tombs! Rare ones! They flipped through and saw fresh handwritten notes tucked inside. Smart, this mage did not want to tarnish the original pages. There was also an open notebook and a few spell components laid out.

They stepped carefully back onto the notebook to get a better idea of what this wizard was up to. The notebook was written in giant, which Myran wasn’t fluent in but got the gist of. So this was indeed a giant wizard. Fascinating.

That’s what they were thinking until...

FEE FI FO FUM!

Myran nearly jumped out of their boots.

No longer fascinating. Very bad. Very dangerous! They’d heard stories that quoted these lines, classic, even amusing. However, hearing them bellowed by an actual giant nearly stopped their heart. These words were so loud and so immediately panic-inducing, especially when accompanied by thundering footsteps.

I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE-

There was a pause and maybe a stutter

DWARVEN KIND!

The trap door off center in the room burst open and a giant with a mane of black hair, a trimmed goatee, and a wizard’s hat, climbed out. He was smiling, snarling, showing off impressive fangs.

USELESS TO FLEE, USELESS TO FIGHT, FOR YOU WILL BE MY MEAL TONIGHT!

Eat them!? Oh No. Myran scrambled to their feet as the giant advanced.

Siv had gone catatonic, or nearly, and fled behind the mirror. But Myran just stood there. The next thing they knew, they were in the giant's fist… AND THEN IN ITS MOUTH! There was a brief moment where they thought the giant was going to bite them in half… but no. Worse than that, the giant fulfilled his promise to make a meal of Myran by swallowing them whole.

Never had Myran imagined themselves in this predicament. Witches, as far as they knew, were not prone to being eaten by giants! Giants ate thieves, slayers, adventurers! Though... giants were known to occasionally eat random people that happened to be rude to them as they went about their business.

Myran had not been rude! They just hadn’t had a chance to be polite! This giant had no business eating them.

Not that any of this was actually going through Myran’s mind. Oh no. Myran’s thoughts were preoccupied with panicking about their impending doom!

First, they tried to stop the giant from swallowing. But the teeth threatened to crunch their limbs if they dared to try and find purchase! So, failing that, they tried to slow their progress down his esophagus.

The problem was the walls were too damn slippery! They knew that their slow progress was merely due to the tight fit, as they couldn’t stretch out. The flesh was too tough.

Right before they started to worry about suffocating, they were deposited into a large chamber, sliding into a puddle of nasty smelling fluid. They took a regretful breath of the rancid air.

Yonah sighed as the dwarf left his throat and settled into his stomach. Small yet still filling.

He patted his stomach lightly. “A bit disappointing. Dwarves don’t taste nearly as good as most other smallfolk, but I’m not complaining.” His prey thrashed and yelled but didn’t seem to be coherent.

YEOWCH!

Something bit his hand and he waved it violently. Whatever it was released and smacked into the wall that the desk was up against, crumpled into a motionless pile. Curious and momentarily forgetting his snack, Yonah investigated.

A cat!? And still alive but unconscious. Why had a cat attacked him? Then he saw the abandoned broom next to his notebook. And his stomach twisted.

“You’re— not a thief!” Technically, he could eat anyone he wanted, he wasn’t restricted to adventurers. He was still figuring out what kind of villain he wanted to be. Such self exploration would take time, time the person he ate didn’t have.

“I’m a witch!” He heard them squeak.

“A witch? Invading the lair of a wizard? Are you stupid!” He poked at them. They didn’t like that.

“Let me out!!”

So Yonah spat them up, sooner than he would have liked to, and leaned over them with a frown and glowing eyes.

The moment the witch hit the desk, the cat woke up and was between him and the witch as it hissed.

The witch was shaking and coughing, glancing at him with wide fearful eyes.

“If you’re a witch then what the fuck were you doing in my tower?” Yonah demanded.

The witch was still in shock but recovered enough to speak. “I’m… Myran! I wanted to introduce myself!”

“A likely story! Why would anyone want to introduce themselves to me?” Yonah wasn’t really in the mood for conversation, but figured he could use the practice at evil banter.

“You’re… new to the forest” they coughed.

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m your neighbor!” they said,

Yonah narrowed his eyes, “The forest is constantly moving, no such thing as neighbors.”

“I figured I’d try to be friendly!” they continued as if he hadn’t replied. “Everyone was talking about the new mage in the tower, but no one had any definitive stories.”

Another mistake. The giant snarled.

“You are a fool then! I don’t want any friends!” He hesitated briefly as he said it, not sure of the truth, but recovered fast. “But I don’t want you spreading rumors about my mercy either…” he picked them back up. Gripping them hard and getting their right arm between his teeth. He didn’t bite their arm off, but broke the skin with a fang and pinched their hand. They yelled.

“Stop! Stop! I won’t tell! I won’t tell!”

He dropped them and they sat, crying, holding their bleeding arm and hand which was turning a plum purple.

“Good,” he hissed steam in their face, scalding the skin red as his eyes glowed bright orange. “Now get the fuck out before I eat you for real!” He flicked the broom at them. “And if you ever show your face around here again, I will.”

Finally, they listened to him. They got onto the broom along with their cat and with a burst of magic kicked into the air and fled out the window. Yonah watched until they disappeared, then sat down. His hair hadn’t been smoking before but it was now. Additionally, his eyes still glowed.

His first visitor in months wasn't an adventurer and he’d eaten them without a second thought! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Maybe this was his destiny. For years he’d trained himself to be restrained. Keep his anger in check, Keep his half giant identity a secret and become a wizard. But that had all gone to shit when he’d been discovered not as just a half giant, but as a half fire witch. Chased out of the academy but captured by the authorities of Orr.

Forced to sign a contract with King Ben to become his new pet monster! So why not be a monster!?

But he still wanted friends… his friends from the academy weren’t allowed to visit him. His tower of magic and wonder was so empty. He put his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands.

~chink~ his elbow brushed against something.

He looked down and saw a broken clay pot, the soup spilling out and a seedling now helpless and exposed on the desk.

Quickly yonah dipped his fingers into a pouch at his side and licked it, saying a spell. With a puff of smoke he stood on his desk, a mere 8ft tall, and he knelt down.

With his more appropriately sized hands he gathered the soil and with a wave of his hand and another mutter the pieces of the pot shook and flew back into their original places. The pot was… functionally repaired. The proper repair spell required materials to fuse the pieces properly. So it wouldn’t hold water, but it could hold soil.

As he scooped it back in, a piece of paper fell from the loose soil. Curious he dug it back out of the pot and cleaned it off enough to read:

“Welcome to the Mystical Woodlands new neighbor! This seedling is from my own garden. A special cultivation of Frozen Thyme.”

The moment he read it he was instantly planning where this would go in his garden. But… this gift. Did he deserve it? He’d eaten the one who brought it. He chased them away!

He couldn’t accept this gift but he couldn’t just let the seedling wither and die. It didn’t deserve that. And thus, his brain rationalized a way for him to keep the gift. So now what?

Yonah’s brain was too full of rage to do any proper work, so he decided to take it out on the garden, which was still in a state of construction. He’d already torn up old dead pieces of the overgrown mess left behind by the predecessor. Now he was digging spots for flower beds and what would hopefully be an orchard. There was even a designated spot for herbs.

The reason this was slow going was he refused to use magic. For the most part. Thankfully, being giant made digging and construction easier. Now that he had the thyme, he prioritized the herb beds. It was with a sour pride that he completed one as the sun started to go down.

A large wooden box that curved in a lovely arc close to the tower. The wood was specially imported from his The Blue Sky Mountain Giants Tribe in the Implausible Mountains, the smell of it reminding him of home. The frozen thyme seedling was given enough space to grow. He even gave it some friends that he knew would be compatible.

With his mind a little more at ease, he managed to get himself to sleep.

And awoke the next morning with an ache in his heart and a new plan in his brain.

For the first time since he arrived in this prison of a forest, he ventured beyond the boundaries of his clearing. Yonah knew he was allowed, a certain distance from his tower, to walk the forest. It had just seemed pointless. Not wanting to draw too much attention, he wore his gardening outfit: a pink plaid button up and light blue overalls. He had a straw hat that he recently wove to be a wizard hat, as well as his wizard staff. He couldn’t really leave that behind.

The trees in the forest were shorter than back home, but still very large. Thankfully he didn't have to duck so much to avoid branches. In his mind was a list of ingredients he needed to find. Foraging in the forest might seem like a fruitless endeavor, but when you have the keen nose of a giant, tracking down wildberries was a simple feat.

What a bounty! A huge patch of bramble with perfectly ripe berries. He didn’t need a giant’s amount and they would just get squashed if he tried to pick them at his normal size so once again he shrank down. He retrieved a basket from his hat and started to pick berries.

About ten minutes in, the bush began to shift! A section opened up and out ran a gnome with a garden spade. It smacked into his hand mid berry pick.

“Stop! Thief!”

SMACK SMACK!

Yonah was so startled he backed away and returned to his normal size, the basket of berries spilling over.

The gnome yelped. “Giant!” They dropped the spade. “Don’t eat me! Take berries! Don’t eat me or family!”

There was something satisfying about the gnome’s fear and Yonah grinned, “While you would make for a nice little snack,” he said, “I’m not in the mood for gnome today.”

The gnome shook and took up the spade again, pointing it at him as if that would help. From inside the bushes, Yonah heard rustling, and smelled more gnomes. This must cover their burrow.

“Put that away, or I might change my mind!” Yonah growled, showing his fangs. The gnome complied, tossing it aside.

“But you are also in luck. I am not interested in being a berry thief. I have more honor than that. If you would permit me to buy some of your berries, at a discount for me not making a meal of you and your family, I will leave you in peace”

The gnome gulped and nodded, “Am… sure we can make a deal.”

“Pick up the ones I already picked, will you?” Yonah ordered.

The gnome scrambled. “You will need more?”

Yonah nodded. The gnome whistled. And a troupe of younger gnomes carefully came out of the bramble.

“Kind giant has offered to buy some berries. Exchange for not eating us!”

The kids looked nervous and their fear didn’t spark the same kind of joy as the adults. But Yonah had a reputation to build! And he had to admit, it was still a bit fun.

He watched as the gnomes gathered berries until the basket was full and the adult gnome put it down in front of where Yonah had sat down. He picked it up and took off his hat, dropping it in and noticed the gnome’s eyes get wide. Storage space items were not uncommon, but storage hats were tools of professional mages, not common folk.

“That all?” the gnome asked.

Yonah stroked his beard thoughtfully, “Yes. I think so.” He reached into this hat. While he didn’t have a lot of money, Ben had supplied him with funds should he need them, and he had distributed the rings between his various pocket spaces. He got out a large wooden dowel upon which hung many metal rings. Small ones and large ones. With a pair of tweezers, yonah removed a few silver rings and one gold ring and put them into his palm, placing it up in front of the gnome.

Who did not take it.

“Do not insult me by refusing my payment,” Yonah insisted but the gnome did not move.

“More than we charge normally… You wanted discount: berries, a silver a pound!”

Yonah blinked. He still wasn’t good with smallfolk money. When purchasing as a giant, you purchased such large amounts it always cost at least a gold.

“Oh? Er-” he didn’t want to actually exploit these gnomes. “I'm not taking it back! Take the money Or I’ll eat you!” his voice faltered and the gnomes looked a little confused, and a little more relaxed.

“Leave us alone then, yes?” The gnome reached out a hand. Yonah nodded. The gnome finally took the money, giving each of the kids a silver ring. Any fear the kids had was gone as soon as they studied their rings and looked at Yonah with excitement. It was hard not to let the warmth in his heart at their expressions show on his own face.

“Actually!” Yonah announced as the gnomes started to back away into their burrow.

The adult stopped and looked nervous again. Yonah huffed. “I’m not going to eat you, I never was. I just have a question.”

The gnome ushered the kids away, not trusting Yonah, before turning back to the giant. “And if don’t have a good answer, you won’t eat… right?”

With a sigh Yonah shook his head, “No. I won't.”

“Then ask.”

Yonah took a breath, “I am... looking to get some ingredients. I… lashed out at someone recently and I very much regret it, and want to make some amends. I have giant ones back home but… giant sized ingredients do not taste as strong as small ones. Do you know where, or who, I might be able to look for?”

The gnome smiles, “Yes! Mystical Market. Sell our berries there. Open today, also gnome holiday.” They gave Yonah the instructions on how to find the market.

“Thank you- er…” Yonah put a hand to his chest and bowed.

“Kalle” said Kalle.

“Yonah,” said Yonah. The gnome bowed as well, “Don’t be flaunting riches, mysterious half giant. Marketeers take advantage”

Riches!? He did not have endless funds. He would have to be more careful with his spending.

“I am also looking for… Er... Shit!” he exclaimed and was glad the kids were no longer outside, “I don't know their name. Dwarf witch.”

Kalle considered, “Know them. Likes almond cookies. Sorry. Market easier find than people. That all?”

From their tone of voice, Yonah knew the gnome desperately wanted to get back to their family. It was a holiday after all. Yonah stood up and nodded, leaving without subjecting them to any more conversation.

Almond cookies? That changed things. He had only made almond cookies once! He needed a little more help. However, he did not backtrack to the tower. He knew that if he went back, he would lose motivation. Locating the market was his current task.

Unfortunately, it took some luck. According to the gnome, it was a special place that one happened to come across, just by wanting to be there. The more familiar you were with it, the better chance there was of that happening. Yonah really really wanted to be there. So he gathered his will and set off in a random direction.

After an hour of walking yonah felt a weird tingle all over his arms and legs. Like his hair was standing on end and all pointing in the same direction. Had he entered some magical field? No matter, he was fairly immune to passive magic.

Then he took another step and a jolt of magic electricity surged through his body, causing him to freeze up. Before he could collapse, he felt as if a giant hook had caught around his middle. There was no physical hook, but it still yanked him back, pulling in through the forest.

Eventually it stopped and finally Yonah fell over, breathing shallowly as his heart raced. He rolled onto his back and stared up into the trees.

“What’s the big idea!?” Someone kicked him in the side and he sat up. “You’re blocking the way!”

An elf!

Yonah frowned. “You’re so bold for someone I could crush with a finger!” To tease the elf, he poked them in the chest.

“YEOWCH!”

For the second time that day, Yonah got bitten. This time, it was the elf who sank their fangs into his finger, letting go before Yonah pulled away.

“Don’t get sassy with me! Messing with smallfolk isn’t allowed in the market, you'll be banned!”

Yonah looked around “The market?”

He had assumed it was the Mystical Market because it was in the Mystical Woodlands. But now he realized that the name was rather accurate. An entire marketplace incorporated into the forest itself. Stalls and restaurants built into the trees, with carts parked in between. The trees here were also… there was no other word for it: majestic. Larger and older and, compared to the forest he had been exploring before, more deliberate spacing. He couldn’t even see all of it. The forest stretched on for a while, and thus was obscured by the very trees that made up the shops.

There were even buildings in the branches so that ogres, trolls, and giants did not have to bend down to make transactions. He even spotted a few trolls. Amazing! Trolls (and ogres) were much more likely than giants to eat smallfolk. Giants mostly threatened unless the person in question did something really, really stupid.

And yet, there was a troll, large with brown fur and green spots, purchasing a roll of fabric from the elevated section of a gnome shop.

“Yes you idiot, the market! And my cart won't fit through any other path! Move your giant ass or I’ll get the guard to move it for you!”

His elation at having found the market was in conflict with his pride that was being so insulted by this little creature.

“Apologize for biting me, and I’ll consider it!”

The elf looked indignant. “You threatened to squash me! MAGEN!!” they yelled.

Thunderous footsteps were heard and Yonah turned as a proper, full blooded giant, made her way through the shoppers, somehow avoiding stepping on anyone. She was maybe 17, but full grown and taller than Yonah by at least ten feet. Her skin was a light greyish pink and her eyes were a dark red. She wore a lovely headpiece of woven flowers and vines to look like hair, which full giants do not have.

She knelt “This man bothering you?”

The elf nodded. Yonah threw his hands up, “Hey! I don’t mean any trouble!”

“He threatened to squash me!”

The giant glared at Yonah, who glared back.

“How largefolk deal with smalls outside of the market is their own business,” she said. “But inside the market we do not even threaten to squash, or kick, or stomp, or eat!”

“I did not intend to and I did not know I was in the market! I have never been before!” Yonah stood up so that he was not at such an extreme height disadvantage. Magen was a rather short mountain giant, only 35ft tall.

She nodded, “I can believe that.” She stood up. “I would have remembered you for sure.” She sniffed and said in implausible Giant: “You are from the blue sky tribe?”

“Yes! I am.” he answered, also in Giant. “I just moved to the forest. I was looking for the market but… I must have… hit something magic. I sort of fell into here”.

The elf took the opportunity to weave their cart around the giants’ feet, disappearing into the market.

“Ah, the seller seems to no longer push this issue. My name is Magen.” she introduced, bowing.

“Yonah HaEsh,” Yonah answered in return.

“HaEsh! I know the name. Fire man who helped save the Implausible Mountains from the Society of Wizards!”

“That’s my dad,” Yonah said, a little embarrassed.

“Mom told me the story! How exciting!”

Yonah brushed himself off and glanced around, “So... What are the rules here, then?”

Magen shrugged, “Just don’t start fights, alright? All sales are final, so don't go making a fuss if you haggled wrong or think you got cheated unless you believe your items are defective. There are ways to deal with fraudulent goods, but we cannot risk collateral damage.”

“Does that happen often?” Yonah asked, “I only mean to buy food, I can tell if that’s fresh”

“Oh, you have a giant’s nose then. Good. It does not happen often. Makes my job easier. And I usually manage to break up confrontations before they get out of hand.”

Knowing he could likely sniff out the stalls he needed, Yonah asked if Magen could show him around and help him find all the items on his list. She happily agreed. He had to walk behind her as there wasn’t room for two giants to be side by side.

As she carefully led him, she took glances back and down Yonah who was getting a little nervous. It had been a while since he encountered other giants. He was watching his feet to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone, and he was stopping constantly to look into the shops and stalls and carts.

“What is it like, being half giant?” Magen asked, who somehow managed to walk without looking at her feet very often at all. Maybe Yonah was being too careful and people here knew to stay out of the way of largefolk's feet… Still, he didn't want to take chances.

“Er… I have hair, I guess?” he said.

“I was wondering if that was natural or a wig.” Magen brushed the vines spilling from her head.

“But mostly, things were just a bit inconveniently large for me. I still managed.” Then he countered. “What’s it like being a guard in the market?”

“The shopkeepers pool money to have me stand around, mostly. Smallfolk behave when an angry giant is within earshot.” She grinned with all her fangs.

“I thought you said giants couldnt mess with smallfolk here?” Yonah inquired.

“You can’t. It’s my job to interfere,” Magen retorted. “I haven't hurt anyone… badly. I’ve only worked here for a year. But I know everyone and everyone knows me!”

They stopped at a stand selling nuts and Yonah purchased the almonds he needed. The seller seemed a bit disappointed that he bought so few.

“Shopping for someone small?” Magen asked.

“Er- yeah.” Yonah said. They both had to back between trees to let a trio of trolls go by. One was only 10 feet tall and barely came up to Yonah’s waist, but another was nearly 20 feet! They carried baskets and bags on their furry backs, and even had some tied to their tusks!

Before they continued, two elves leapt from the tree nearby and onto Yonah’s shoulders! He was about to brush them off when Magen stopped him.

“Don’t! They are just hitching rides!” At that, he spotted more elves on her head. “You need honey, yes? I know the best shop!”

He followed Magen around the market, which was much larger than he had realized. The elves had no qualms about leaping on and off him and other largefolk shoppers and eventually he ignored them. Magen even helped him avoid making a bad deal for oat flour, saying she couldn’t believe the nerve of the shopkeeper trying to take advantage of a new resident.

Before Yonah left, he wanted to properly thank Magen. “If there is anything I can do to show thanks. Perhaps er-” he looked around.

“You know, the juice stand behind that tree has new flavors I’ve wanted to try. How about you buy me a drink? You should get one too. It’s very refreshing!”

“They make them giant sized?” Yonah asked.

“Oh, they are made by ogres!” Magen replied, rounding the indicated tree.

Ogres, kin of trolls and even more dangerous due to their magical powers. Typically smaller than trolls, but that was not the way to tell them apart.

An entire family of ogres were operating a massive open storefront. Jugs hung from branches or were strapped to the trunks of trees and fruit swung in baskets. Behind the counter was an elaborate prep station operated by two large ogres. Around the entire display were platforms sticking out from the nearby trees. Smallfolk sat on stools enjoying drinks and food at an elevation that made it easy to be served by the ogres. Magen walked up to the counter, which was not at an ideal height for her but was easily manageable. She spoke to an ogre with straw colored fur, blue spots, and large horns.

“Edna! I’d like two passion fruit smoothies please! One giant sized and one…” She glanced back at Yonah. “Full Troll sized!” She stepped aside and pointed at Yonah. “He’s paying”

Edna nodded and passed on the order.

Yonah stepped forward. Bowing “Yonah HaEsh”. She bowed back, “Edna Baneclaw. That will be a gold bracelet for the giant and half for the full troll”

Yonah’s heart nearly stopped. A gold bracelet and a half !? He looked at Magen who flashed her fangs mischievously then back at Enda.

Edna smiled as well. “We don’t have enlarged passion fruit, not in high demand by largefolk.”

With another glare at Magen, Yonah fished into his hat. He didn’t have gold bracelets but he had rings. 10 silver to a gold. Rings to Rings. Bracelets to Bracelets… 10 gold rings to a silver bracelet… 10 silver bracelets to a gold ring. That’s 100 gold rings to a gold bracelet (he had really overpaid the gnomes for the berries... A holiday gift he supposed), but this was not money to spend on frivolous fruit drinks!

Too late, however. The drinks were ready, and he carefully removed golden rings from silver bracelets. 50 gold rings and 10 silver bracelets exchanged for two smoothies. They came in wooden cups with bamboo straws.

This better be fucking worth it. Yonah took a sip.

His eyes widened as the cool icy tart concoction hit his taste buds and he took a long drink. Finally, he looked at Magen and then Edna. “This is incredible!” he exclaimed. Magen grinned and sipped hers as well. “Yeah. Too bad we’re the last two to have some for at least a month!”

“What do you mean?”

“That took all the passion fruit we had,” Edna informed. “Won't get more for a while”

“Worth it! Suck it smallfolk!” Magen teased the people on the platforms, a few looked a bit annoyed, but most didn't seem to care. She didn't seem to care either.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Yonah. I hope to see you again. Oh, and by the way, you can return your mug to the ogres for a silver bracelet, even if you take it home today!”

Yonah glanced at his drink. “Oh! Thanks for letting me know. But where are you going?”

Magen sipped at her smoothie loudly before answering. “This was my break, silly, I need to go back on proper duty now, and you have all your things.” Magen held out her free hand and Yonah shook it, bidding her goodbye. It was getting late in the day now and he wanted to get to work on the almond cookies.

Wait… which way was back to the tower? How could he be so stupid wandering off like this!? His mom taught him better than that. Forest ranger rule number 1: DON’T GET LOST. ...okay, so that wasn’t really a rule. It was supposed to imply that you paid attention to where you were going so you could get back. This was not so easy in the Mystic Woods.

The moment he had walked far enough away from the market, he turned forward and then back, and it was already gone. He had nowhere to go but forward.

It was to his great surprise that only a minute later, he exited the dense trees and found himself in the clearing. The tower was on the opposite side. While he was elated to have made it back safely before dark, there was a distinct absence of any gladness to be home. This was not his home, after all. It was his prison.

Yonah HaEsh climbed up the tower and back into his prison. He took off his hat and sat down at his desk in the workshop, staring into the reflection on the large, ornate mirror that rested upon it.

To do this right, he needed help. Professional help. So he activated his mirror. Or at least… tried. He stared at his own reflection, then spoke. “Mirror Mirror on the desk,” he faltered, “Could you please connect me to Shoshana at the academy?”

The mirror snorted. “You think politeness will work after all this time? I don’t make exceptions. This is why your friends think you’ve forgotten about them! Put in the effort! Ask me properly or don't at all.”

“They’ve called me!!” Yonah insisted, but the mirror said nothing in response. Just like he would do when he got calls from his friends. Yonah growled and snorted back at the mirror, fogging it up. “Mirror Mirror, oh magical vanity, I wish to call Shoshana, at the wizard academy”

There was a whistle from the mirror. “Now that’s how you do it!” it praised. The fog cleared and for a brief moment, he saw his own face again before the reflective surface turned grey. Another moment and the face of his friend Shoshana emerged.

“Yonah!!!” she exclaimed. “You called! I cannot believe it!”

Yonah’s face turned a bit red. “I’ve… been distracted.”

Shoshana waved her hand, stopping any further excuses. “You’ve been through so much! I was worried! Since we graduated, you haven't called at all!”

/I never called before either... / Yonah thought. /It was always you.../ When Grand Master Sean reinstated him as a wizardling student, his friends would call regularly to work on homework and their theses, as he wasn’t allowed to actually attend the school in person. And while he attended the graduation…

That wasn’t a happy memory at all and he didn’t want to think about how he sat behind all the students in the amphitheater in magic chains looking more like a beast one of the adventuring tract students had wrangled for their final than a student.

“I need a recipe!” he said.

Shoshana raised her brows “That’s it!? First call in over a month, and it’s to get a recipe! You don’t want to catch up at all?!” Yonah’s eyes flickered and Shoshana backed off. “Alright, I can see you’re not in the mood. But please, we’re all missing you so much. We’d assumed you embraced the evil hermit wizard life.”

“I… haven’t meant to. But it’s surprisingly easy,” he admitted, grinning awkwardly. “I’d rather not go full hermit, of course.”

“Well, then dont go a month without calling your friends!” Shoshana chided. “Or make some new friends! The forest is full of interesting people, right?”

Yonah looked away, but his eyes were probably glowing orange now.

“This… is for that.”

“Oh!” Shoshana exclaimed, “I should have figured! Of course, I will give you whatever recipe you’d like.”

Yonah got out his ingredients to show Shoshana and explained what he wanted to bake. She nodded and made some suggestions for ingredients and spices to really make these cookies great. He did not have all the supplies she suggested, which led to some back-and-forth as Shoshana pointed out some substitutions for what Yonah bought or already had in his tower.

“Got that all down?” she asked, as she watched Yonah scribble out the final lines to the recipe.

“Yes!” Yonah exhaled in relief. “Thank you so much, Shosh!”

“Next time, we will catch up properly, but I had fun designing this recipe!” Shoshana chirped. “What a challenge. I wish you had called first, before just buying random ingredients.”

“I was already in the forest, Shosh.”

“I know, I know.” Shoshana blew Yonah a kiss and the mirror flickered back to his reflection.

It was time to bake! Which he did after shrinking down.

By the time he was done baking his jam print almond cookies, it was past midnight. He needed sleep and didn't think finding the witch at night was a particularly wise idea, especially since he was getting tired. That meant he was extra likely to be grumpy and irritable. So he placed the cookies in a special cooling rack to keep them magically fresh, then went to bed.

It was right after breakfast that Yonah HaEsh left the tower and, for the second time, entered the forest.

Once again, he had no direction, not that one could in the Mystic Woods. It wasn't even possible to have a map unless it was incredibly magical. Still, he was determined and willing to wander the forest for days if he must! But he’d do so at his full size, which would allow him to cover more ground.

That’s… That’s a witch’s hut! He hoped it was the correct one. It was more of a mound than a hut, with one side covered in rocks and moss and the other a more sheer side with windows, plus a flatter side with a door.

As he approached, a garden came into view and he heard a yelp before watching a small figure dart into the hut and close the curtains. The door opened briefly and a hand hung a sign that read “NO SOLICITORS”

That was the evil giant! Why was he here!? Why did the forest let him find the hut!? Was he here to eat them?! To finish the job!? Could they take on a giant fire witch?! Myran was a damn skilled witch, and at least 15 years the giant’s senior by their estimate, but they were quaking in their boots.

A knock sounded at their door. It didn’t sound forceful enough to be a giant. Siv was in front of them, hissing at the door. Thinking it better to be safe, they peeked out the window, then ran to open the door. Just a crack.

Red faced and holding a basket was… the giant. Only he wasn’t giant. Not exactly. He now stood at about twice Myran’s height. A little less actually. Right. Wizard. Giant wizard.

“May I come in?”

“Depends… what’s in the basket?” They narrowed their eyes. “I don’t want any nasty surprises.”

The wizard’s face got redder as he removed the cover. They opened the door and stood aside. They took the basket with their right hand… Yonah hesitated. Their arm had a massive scar from shoulder to elbow, but the hand was unbroken. The Dwarf noticed and gave him a hard look as he crouched low to get through the dwarf sized door, Siv still hissing at him in warning.

Myran put the basket on the kitchen table and motioned to the couch. “Please, sit.” Yonah did. The couch was small for him but it took his weight. “I’m going to be honest.” Myran leaned against the kitchen table and crossed their arms. “This is quite the unexpected visit.”

“Oh?” Yonah said. Of course, it made sense. He chased them out. Why would he then try to find them again?

“You bit me!” Myran reminded him harshly. “You broke my hand, and you said if you saw me again, you would eat me. Again. And kill me.”

/Ohhhh/

Yonah’s breath caught before managing to say. “I did… didn’t I?” He looked down at his feet.

Myran. sighed. “Yep. Though eating me at your current size would be an impressive feat. So... What the fuck are you doing here? Besides bringing me cookies to fatten me up.”

“I’m not-!” He looked back up to defend himself and saw their cheeky grin. “I didn’t come here to eat you…” They raised an eyebrow in sarcastic disbelief. “I want to apologize. For what I said… What I did. After I ate you. I was so angry. I still am, though mostly at myself. I shouldn't have hurt you. It wasn’t right.” He was almost crying. Dammit, he’d gone nearly a month without crying!

“And for eating me?”

“Huh?” Yonah was thoroughly confused.

“You’re sorry for what happened after you ate me, but what about eating me?”

Yonah bit his lip, “I’m… I’m not sorry about that.”

The witch raised both eyebrows now, genuinely curious as to the workings of this monster’s thoughts.

“I’m supposed to eat people! Especially those who enter my tower unannounced. It’s part of my job! And… And I like it!” He startled himself with that statement. He liked his job? He didn’t even want this job!! He was forcefully employed by the King under threat of death! Being evil had never been his plan and he didn’t want that. Did he?

The witch didn’t look completely satisfied with this answer. But they didn’t get to inquire further as Yonah’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Er- your hand…”

Myran smiled “It was rather mangled by your jaws yesterday. Luckily, I am a very good healer, and well-known in this forest. If you had killed me, you would have had a lot of angry forest residents after your head.” Myran began preparing a pot of tea as Yonah Processed that statement. “You’re a lucky giant aren’t you?”

“What?” Yonah voiced. “For not killing you and putting a target on my back?”

“Yes, exactly. And that was curious. It is rare that evil giants are merciful.”

Yonah looked away, “I’ve only been evil for a few months. I… you’re the third person I’ve eaten at all. And I dont… I haven’t yet… killed anyone.”

That surprised Myran. “I guess I do not know the frequency that giants normally encounter adventurers… but what I meant was you’re lucky that you even get to eat people. Most giants like the taste of smallfolk but they don't actually eat them. It’s rather rare.”

“You said it yourself. Evil Giants eat people,” Yonah pointed out. “Which I am one. I guess it’s… nice that I get to eat folks. But it comes with a cost… It’s only a matter of time before slayers come after me.”

“Most evil giants kill their victims, right?” Myran asked.

Yonah shrugged “I met another one once. Said it depended on his mood.”

“Fascinating… though if you keep up your more merciful streak, perhaps you are less likely to attract slayers?”

“Perhaps…” Yonah had not considered that. He just felt he wasn’t ready to kill anyone yet, but maybe there were other perks than just a clear conscience in continuing to let his snacks go.

“Cracked some sort of code then?” Myran inquired. “Getting to eat people without attracting too much attention? Not that this would stop all slayers,” they added. “I expect you would kill a slayer?”

Yonah nodded, sniffed, and wiped his nose. In that case… Guess he was lucky. Indeed, he’d gotten to taste plenty of smallfolk. Plenty of giants did. It was unique that he’d had his human dad while growing up. But all of the smallfolk in the village knew that when giants kissed their hands, the giants were getting little tastes. Sometimes giants would lick a friend playfully or freak someone out. He’d had a few elvish and human friends growing up, and they sometimes let him and the other giant kids lick them during games of Jacks and Giants. And his academy friends were quite amused by his affections. He very much missed them. It had not taken long for him to get used to living amongst human friends, not just because he got to taste them. And so quickly, that was taken away from him. Friends…

As tears welled in his eyes he couldn’t look at Myran any longer. He closed his eyes and turned his face away. Should he keep talking? Shit, how much of that had he said out loud!? The words continued to come out regardless.

“I know I said I didn’t want any friends. But I do! I need them. And I know I can’t be your friend. You came to me and I fucked it up. But I beseech you to not tell everyone else in the forest to avoid me. I already went to the mystical market and-“

“You… how did you find out that I liked almonds!”

Yonah looked up. They weren’t looking at him but reaching into the basket for another cookie. They munched on it thoughtfully, not a crumb falling into their beard. The tea was ready and Myran poured it with magic, leaving their hands free to hold more cookies. They walked over to Yonah, the tea cups floating with. He took the larger one out of mid air. It was very hot! And he drank. It was… It tasted like tea he’d had at home. His village had alway gotten various teas from the dwarves. New tears came to his eyes.

“You alright?” Myran asked, offering a handkerchief. “You’re a very emotional evil giant.”

Yonah took it and dried his eyes. “The tea is… really good.” That wasn’t the real reason but right now he couldn’t process all of his emotions.

“It’s my grandma’s blend,” Myran said. “I’ve tried to replicate it using my garden, but you just can’t replicate those tunnel grown fungi.”

They dipped one of the cookies into the tea. From their expression, it wasn’t really a mistake but likely didn’t improve the experience. Still they munched thoughtfully.

“I’ll be your friend.”

Yonah’s jaw nearly hit the floor and he almost dropped his tea. It was a few seconds before he managed to pick his jaw back up. Were they serious? They walked over to him, placing their much smaller hand over one of his. Then they smiled most disarmingly.

“Just don’t eat me again.”

Yonah smiled.

“I think I can manage that”

[FIN]

——

(You can imagine that Yonah got to hug Myran before he left, probably a little too tight but dwarves are tough!)

THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED MY STORY!

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[singing-wanderer]

Hello! Is it possible for you to do yandere Grimm?

I’m gonna go with romantic Grimm, if that’s fine! If not, just send in another ask and I’ll get right on it =]

Romantic! Yandere Grimm x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere behavior, obsessive behavior, isolation and manipulation.

So we’re gonna stick with Ghost summoning the troop, and just say that you’re a bug that’s in Dirtmouth when it happens. Be it for a short while or living there, you’re there and you’ve piqued the troupe master’s interest. He watched you wander between the edge of the town and his tent, eyes delighted once you mustered up the courage to enter. One of the only bugs that had ever done that, besides the child of God and Void. To see someone finally step in, to look him in his eyes and accept a dance, well; it was enthralling.

Of course, you might not know that he means he wants to fight you until you’re being pelted by fire, but still. Finally, someone who might actually struggle against him. Although the void creature had died a few times to his hand, it was nothing compared to this. You had something to lose. You had a life to lose. And as much as he was tempted to whisk that flame away and create a nightmare of it, he saw to it you had mercy. The being watched your chest heave with exertion, a meager attempt to catch lost breath. A chuckle shook his chest, almost seem to purr as he closed the distance between the two of you. You could feel the hot air leaving his mouth, ghosting over your mask and shaking you to the core. Though your stance reminded solid, you were fearful. Fearful but determined. Oh, he was intrigued.

“My dear, I know I’ve shocked you with our…dance, but I do hope you return. I haven’t had a waltz like that in quite a long time. My tent shall always remain open to you, as my bedroom.” With a wink, the bat spun and vanished in fire. By Wyrm, what was it with that circus freak and fire? Was it a fetish or?? Shushing your mind, you rushed out and collapsed on the dirt a good distance from the haunted fuckery that was in that tent. Your muscles ached from the fight, and you had to admit: you felt the same. It had been a bit since you had been holed up in Dirtmouth, contemplating venturing down despite the old man’s warnings. There was an entire kingdom down there awaiting you, you just had to go! Everyday you refused yourself, your hand would flinch with the craving of violence or entertainment. Not much passed through this town excluding the dusty wind. (Maybe that’s where the towns name came from?)

A day or two after your fight, Elder Bug stopped coming out of his house. This had actually brought you some worry. Sure he was the only thing keeping you from going down but he still was sweet. Kindest person you had met honestly. Then the letters and dreams- no nightmares- had started. Deep red and flashing pink envelopes would slip into your home, the contents being truly disturbing. Tales of how Grimm had dreamed of you, how he had imagine your life together, and what he was willing to do to make it work. It was terrifying to read, the detailed descriptions he had given of the ways he’d torment all your friends until they’d leave you. Until they’d leave you with him. And how he’d take such good care of you, you’d never be lonely with him around because he’d never leave you alone. You tempted to burn them only to find they turned the fire pink before fading. Almost like a beacon to show him where your home was, despite you knowing deep down that info was already too familiar to him.

It felt like there was no other choice, that this was the only way. Stepping into that dreaded tent again, you felt your spine tingle with anxiety and your stomach weigh heavy in your own body. You almost felt like throwing up. Brumm nodded in solemn greeting, seemingly knowing the situation. Had Grimm done this to others? Had some other bug lived through the hell you’re going through? Knowing this a possibility, it made your blood feel electric. If someone else got through this so could you. “My dear, you’ve returned! How I’ve missed you. I’m assuming you received my letters? All written with love.” His pink eyes squinted towards the end, you could feel his smirk from this side of the room. Fucking theater kid. Of course he was cocky, these were his stomping grounds. It was uneven turf you were playing. The bat already had a fighting advantage, why not give him background knowledge of the terrain too? Even though you were pissed, your vision remained clear enough to notice there was no crowd this time. The stage lights shone onto empty seats, but you felt watched. Even the spirits have it out for you, hm.

“Are you worried by the lack of audience? Not to worry, it’s nothing about your performance. You performed more than exemplary, my love. As a matter of fact, too exemplary. I couldn’t let just any common filth watch you.” Annoyance ate at your nerves and clenched them. If he viewed his own people as common filth, then what the hell did he think of you? Some mystical being or average bug? The troupe leader probably thought of you as entertainment. That sums it perfectly up. The obsession with performance, with dancing. That had to be it. Well, if he wanted a show, he’d get one. You’d been in contact recently with some obsessive charm keeper, collected a couple of nasty things to use against him. Not to mention the recent refining of your skills. There was a pattern with his attacks, something that became obvious after examination. All of them were theatrical and were either dependent on horribly tracking your movement or just hoping to hit you. Weak once discovered, deadly if you fight mindlessly.

This dance went a little more smoothly, a little more feisty. Watching him suffer, after what he put you through, made you feel exhilarated. The edges of his now tattered cloak traced the ground, and he appeared weakened. Despite this however, that same damned smile came rushing back up. Your arms hung loosely by your side; tired. You were so tired. “Wonderful, wonderful! The way my blood rushes…not even the most frightful of nightmares compares to this!” Darkness grazed the corners of your eyes, so inviting. Maybe you wouldn’t have to deal with him after this. Maybe you’d wake up and he’d be gone, and you’d be alone again. “Oh? Resting so early are we? I mind not, I’ll take good care of you,” His voice lowered, “rest easy. I’ll be awaiting you in your dreams.”

Oddly enough, you slept great. Not even a vision or hint at that demonic presence of Grimm. Just memories of your home, places of peace. That lake you had visited, that shop with rain pelting the windows endlessly. It almost pained you to wake up, atop soft, red velvet pillows. You groaned, eyes blearily blinking and trying to shut again. But your mind screamed at you to get up, as your environment was completely different. Coaxing your upper half up you cased the room. This has got to be some sort of sick joke. That same demented red, that accursed flame, the Grimm Troupe Leader hanging from the ceiling and watching you. You stared back, finally realizing why he was so desperate for a second dance.

It was a trap. An endurance test. The freak probably wasn’t even hurt towards the end, not once did he truly stagger. He was wearing you down, waiting until you couldn’t feel your limbs from exhaustion and then pushing you further. A hand traced your face, thumb brushing across it.

“You’re finally home. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you, watching how you move. To see you in the motions of life is the most moving gift of all.”

[happytroopers]

In Another Life // Jedi! Reader x Wolffe

Uhhh, hi again. As per usual inspiration struck as I was watching tik Tok so I wrote this in one go on my bathroom floor lmao 

basically: Reader is a Jedi trying to sort through some unjedi like thoughts about a certain Commander. Very dramatic, definitely needs to hold a damn hand. Jedi.exe stops working at the thought 

warnings: mentions of gun/ GSW’s, blood, unrequited(?), two idiots with the combined emotional maturity of grapefruit

__________

Close your eyes... deep breath... don’t think about what could have been... open your eyes... 

Upon reopening, your tired eyes examined the inky black void of space through the view port. There was a certain beauty in the simplicity of empty space that gave you some semblance of peace after such a hectic battle- the deep black velvet with pin pricks of pure starlight to interrupt the darkness, the idea of far off systems of planets teeming with mundane life as if other planets weren’t collapsing into war ravaged debris piles. 

Once again you closed your eyes again to recenter yourself, another deep breath was lost to the usual dull chatter of the bridge as your lightsaber seemed to weigh down you hip more than usual. 

You looked back to the stars, ignoring your own dim reflection in the transperisteel. This time you let your mind wander back to these unbothered planets, much like the one you were born on before being taken to the temple. You didn’t really remember your family- you often wondered if you had siblings, older or younger, were your parents kind, did you take after your mother or more after your father... what would you be doing if your were still with them? Perhaps you’d be in the workforce instead of a War General, maybe married to a someone who had grown up in the same town as you, would you have children? 

An unwelcome flash of a well known face caused your mind to run with it. Letting your mind manifest a kind of mental holovid showing you a life you didn’t and could never have. 

In this daydream you watched a version of yourself stumble through life, this version softer and more carefree without deadly weapons strapped to you or armor weighing down your light steps. Had this version of you ever even been wounded? Fought any battle? Surely this version of you hadn’t comforted dying soldiers and made tough battle calls, your eyes seemed too bright. Another figure appeared in your mind, even your physical form relaxed, Wolffe, the man you’d come to love despite your determination not to.... 

Even in this daydream where he was sans armor and unscarred, you’d always be able to pick him out of a crowd. He gave ‘softer-you’ a small smile before gingerly kissing their forehead. They/you relaxed into the gesture even with so many people bustling around- clearly you never had to worry about the consequences of your attachments. Normal people didn’t have to, being in love was a natural as the rivers of Naboo.

The image changed, their was a ring on your finger as your hands cupped Wolffe’s face for a sweet kiss. People who almost looked like you- family you supposed- clapped and cheered as Wolffe escorted you down the aisle. A wedding, normal people get married. 

Another image, this time of a large hand rested against a bulbous stomach- your round stomach. Wolffe was smiling proudly before he kissed the top of your head. Normal people have kids. 

You smiled softly at the cookie-cutter life you had come up with in a matter of minutes- an entire life planned out with a man you’d never dare tell your feelings to much less act on them. A true relationship, friends, marriage, houses, kids, jobs- no code or regulations, blaster fire or duels... Normalcy.

"What do you see out there, General?" A sudden voice shocked you out of your reverie. You jumped, startled, not used to people being able to sneak up on you. Suddenly your cheeks were red (a new phenomenon since you had met the commander of the 104th) as your eyes met one amber eye and one cybernetic eye- both trying to hide the amusement at your reaction.

"Wolffe, I thought I told you to call me (Y/N)." You tried to keep your tone even as your forced yourself to turn your gaze back to the view port. Allowing him to call you by your name was as far as your were willing to involve him in your forbidden delusions of romance. 

"Sorry, si- (Y/N), I...didn’t mean to startle you." He apologized, his tone almost questioning. He truly hadn’t meant to, usually he couldn’t even if he wanted to- typically you could feel his force signature from across the cruiser. "Are you alright?"

"Just too tangled up in my thoughts." You mused, already mentally shredding the daydream as if that would also purge the relentless fluttering in your stomach, "Besides, I should be asking you that. I thought you were in the medbay being treated for a blaster wound." 

That was another truth, you were under the impression that Wolffe was injured and probably arguing with whatever poor medic was ordering bedrest. And while the commander’s injury was probably the root source of your silent identity crisis, that was why you were so comfortable creating fantasies in the open space of the bridge- most of the other soldier’s actively avoided any Jedi when they had that vague, aloof face on (for fear of existential riddles and other ‘mystical drivel’ Jedi were known to hand out). Wolffe, however, never seemed to mind approaching you- even if all you had to offer was cheap wit and Jedi proverbs. If you had known he’d won the argument with the medic, you would have gone off to "mediate" in your quarters. 

You allowed yourself to give him a once over, noting the bandages peeking out from under his deck officer’s uniform (you knew how much he hated that uniform, so you figured the medic confiscated his armor until he was cleared for duty). Wolffe shrugged, stiffly rotating his left shoulder as if to show you he was fine, "I’ve had worse."

You couldn’t help the half scoff, half chuckle that escaped you before you steadied your gaze back on the stars. You had seen him with worse- in the middle of battle with shrapnel wounds but still clawing his way to victory, stealthily mowing threw droids with a concussion during a rescue mission, blood dripping out a half cauterized lightsaber wound to his eye after you and Plo Koon forced Asajj off of him and he still managed to push through it to yell orders into his comms unit. Yes, of course, you’d seen him with worse, but that didn’t erase the worry you felt when you were informed that he’d been shot in the middle of that day’s battle. It didn’t erase the pain you felt in the force through your connection with him, nor did it erase the feeling of rage and vengeance that you had to push out of your mind for the rest of the fight. 

Instead of voicing any of those thoughts, you simply hummed in acknowledgment, contenting yourself with being near him. Even unaware of your affection, his mere presence was calming. As usual, the Commander didn’t mind your silence, giving you the same once over your gave him before mirroring your position. He stood comfortably by your side, eyes searching for whatever you were staring at as he informed you, "I was told that General Plo Koon has been cleared for active duty again, effective as soon as we arrive back to Coruscant."

You nodded calmly, you had been told this too. Your time with the 104th as their interim general was coming to a close. Three months hadn’t seemed like that long until the report had put it in perspective for you- and yet three months was all it took for you to break a lifetime of teaching on the dangers of attachments. Probably for the best that you wouldn’t be around Wolffe on the daily, you could rededicate yourself to the Jedi lifestyle (even if now you realized you had never been quite adjusted to it anyway). 

"I’m sure the Wolffe pack will be happy to have him back." Was all you said on the matter. Wolffe nodded before sparing you another glance.

"They will, but they’ll miss you too." He told you. You met his gaze and almost flinched at the amount of sincerity you found there. When he said they, you could only wonder... hope that he also meant he would miss you. The two of you held the stare for longer than you should have allowed with all of the other deck officer’s mulling about- you were sure someone was probably watching and wondering what was going on between the two of you (the answer was nothing, for better or for worse, but the last thing you needed was rumors floating about). As if Wolffe was thinking along the same lines, he cleared his throat before adding on, "They like having you around; they say your not like other Jedi."

‘Other Jedi’ (and you had a few in mind) would have taken offense to that, probably reprimanded the Commander for addressing them so casually followed by a scolding about how it doesn’t matter if the men like or don’t like having them around. 

You just breathed a quiet laugh, thinking to yourself, "So they think so too."

Another silence fell over the pair of you, as you both pretended not to sneak peripheral glances at each other. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep those daydreams from filling your head as you stood there. Instead of the viewport, you lowered you gaze to the floor hoping to appear as if your were deep in thought. This kept you from looking at Wolffe’s face, which was probably for the best, but now in our peripheral your eyes landed on his hand. It was relaxed by his side, long fingers idly grazing the seam of his trousers- usually, in his armor, he’d be wearing gloves but in this uniform his copper skin stood out against the gray, dim metal landscape of the bridge. In another life, you’d easily take his hand, see how it felt in yours- was his skin soft or calloused, would your fingers interlock or would your hands press together, would his hands be warm, would he seek out your touch as well? But in this life, you tore your gaze away from his hand- grateful for the long sleeves of your cloak the his your hands as they clenched into fists to ground yourself to this reality. 

Before you could completely shove the idea out of your head, an invitation spilled out of your lips, "I’m going to the mess, if you’d like to join. That is, if you haven’t already eaten?"

Wolffe seemed pleasantly surprised at the offer- one you hadn’t made in a week or so after your effort to avoid him when possible (not that he knew that was the reason), "Lead the way, General."

Despite his words, Wolffe, as he always did, kept easy stride beside you. Whereas any other trooper or any Jedi that was younger than you would fall behind you, and any Jedi that outranked you would walk in front of you- he was always directly beside you. A simple gesture, though it was, seemed like a monument- and it was never something he or you asked or talked about. He just fell instep with you because it felt right for him to be there. It was nice to have someone to walk side by side through life with, even for a short time. Sometimes, you’d find yourself instinctively looking up for him even when he wasn’t around- and being sad when you didn’t find him. 

"Uh, General?" You vaguely heard as you continued to chew on your lip, not even considering someone was calling to you until it was followed up with a slightly more forceful, "(Y/N)!"

You snapped out of your thoughts immediately at the sound of your name, looking instinctively to your side for Wolffe, but he wasn’t there. Your head swiveled in confusion only to find him several paces back, staring after you. Absentmindedly, you wondered why he stopped as you halted yourself waiting for him to catch up. He didn’t move, instead gesturing to the door he stopped in front of, "... The mess? Isn’t that where we were going?"

Instantly, that pesky flush crept back to your cheeks. You were so caught up in your thoughts about Wolffe the you had not only left him behind, but also forgot what you were doing. Shuffling back to him, you tried to get your voice steady, "Right, right, yes, apologies."

Wolffe watched you carefully as you avoided his gaze, carding the doors open. If you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t have heard the concern in his voice when he asked, "Are you sure you’re alright, gen- (Y/N)?" 

You gave him a soft smile and a nod in an attempt to convince him, but he simply raised an eyebrow in return- clearly not swayed by the meager display. Any other day you would have argued with him, assuring him you were ok, but now you didn’t trust your voice not to raise several octaves. 

And besides, you most definitely were not alright. Your time with the 104th was coming to a close, and you were trying to convince you slowly breaking heart that it was a good thing. ____

perhaps a pt 2? 

[heliads]

Of Sorcerers and Spiderwebs Chapter Five: Investigation

Y/N L/N is a Master of the Mystic Arts, trained by Doctor Strange himself. When she first meets Peter Parker as they fight side by side against Thanos, she isn’t expecting for their brief partnership to blossom into a love that could last a lifetime.

previous / series masterlist / next

Your friends look troubled. MJ leans forward. “What do you mean, ‘something bad’? What did you see?” You can’t seem to do anything to stop the panic from pounding through your veins. You shake your head frantically. “I don’t know-I don’t know. I looked everywhere, and it seemed like it was coming from the basement, and I went down, and then I saw-”

Peter cups your face in his hands, finally allowing you to calm down. “Breathe, Y/N. It’s alright. Start from the beginning.” You hold on to him for a heartbeat or two, then speak once more. “I felt like something bad was coming from the basement, so I went down there. When I went through the door, it’s like I was seeing something that no human was ever meant to see.”

“The room was broken, almost destroyed. Everything was being slowly drawn towards this, this thing in the center of the room. The ceiling was black with smoke and the floor was broken in channels leading to the middle of the room. There, the ground had completely fallen away except for one place in the very center. It was like there was this pit with a single space remaining intact in the middle, which was drenched in blood. It was dripping off of the sides into this empty space beneath the school. There were runes drawn on the ground around the pit, too. Peter, I think they were drawn in blood.”

Your breathing is slowly returning back to normal, and you are able to stand on your own once more. Your friends look horrified. “You saw all that in the basement?” MJ asks, and you nod. Next to you, Ned furrows his brows. “You’re sure that’s what was there?” You nod fervently. “Positive.” Ned glances from you to his phone screen. “That’s weird, because according to the security cameras, there’s nothing there.”

He holds up his phone, which is displaying the live footage from all of the rooms around the school. Sure enough, the basement is empty and looks perfectly normal. You step closer, unable to understand what you’re seeing. “That’s impossible. I’m sure it’s there.” Peter puts an arm around you supportively. “We believe you, Y/N. Maybe it was something that could only be seen if you’re astral projecting?” 

You nod slowly. “That could be it. Tell you what- we do have to get to class. How about after school ends, you all come with me to the Sanctum and we can see if any of the books there have something on weird chasms and blood runes appearing out of nowhere?” MJ nods. “Sounds good. I’ve always wanted to go there- I have a thing about visiting places no one else is supposed to go to. Will that Dr. Strange guy be okay with us visiting?”

 You smile. “I’ll send him a note. Also, Ned, I do have to ask you- how did you get access to the security cameras? I feel like that’s not easily given out to most students.” Ned just grins. “I felt it might come in handy. Besides, all the teachers keep talking about making sure you have the right tools to solve a problem, right? This is just my select tool.” Peter sighs. “Yeah, but I think they were talking about internships or calculators, not security feeds that you had to hack into the school’s mainframe to set up.” You can’t help but laugh at that, and head to class with your friends.

After school, you meet up with your friends and head over to Bleecker Street, where the New York Sanctum awaits. When you push open the door and head inside, your friends stand in the main entry, gawking at all of the artifacts and relics housed in the Sanctum.

Ned is the first to speak. “This place is so cool! You really live here?” You laugh. “Yeah, I guess I’m pretty lucky.” After everyone’s gotten their fill of the artifacts, you guide them to the library. When you first file in, Stephen is standing at the shelves, book in hand, but he turns when everyone enters.

“You must be the friends I’ve been warned about.” He says with a raised eyebrow, and you do your best to stifle a laugh. “Yeah, they already know that Peter’s Spider-Man and that I’m a sorcerer, so they’ll be fine here.” Stephen doesn’t reply to that, but strides out. You can’t help but notice that he gives Peter a sidelong look as he goes.

MJ watches him leave. “I don’t think he likes us very much.” Peter nods emphatically. “Especially me. Did you see that glare?” You just smile. “That’s how he is with everybody. He’s just wary of regular people in the Sanctum.” Peter shrugs. “Well, I’m glad we have you to let us in.” With that, everyone heads to the shelves and you start pulling books that could be of use.

Once you’ve gathered an armload of books, you set them down on a table and your friends take some to read. MJ holds up one book in confusion. “This is in a language I’ve never even heard of before. And I’ve heard of a lot.” You take the book from her, smiling. “It’s mainly spells, so you’d only be able to read it if you were a sorcerer. I’ll get that one.”

After a while of paging through the musty old books of the Sanctum, Peter turns to you with a shout of discovery. “I think I found something! Is this it?” You lean over the book. “Calamis..the Shadow? Formed when other dimensions intersect with this one and causes a rift between the worlds. Yeah, the drawing looks the same. I think that’s our monster.”

Peter steeples his fingers together. “So how do we take this thing down? All it says is that you have to close the rift, which will weaken it. I think that’s easier said than done.” You nod slowly. “It’s our only option at this point. I guess we just try to approach it and see what happens?” Ned looks at you. “That sounds like the most dangerous plan in the history of plans, but I guess it could work. Try it tomorrow?” You shrug. “Sure, why not? It’s probably best to get this thing out of the way before it attacks anyone.”

The next day comes around before you know it. To be honest, you’re not sure how you feel about seeking out this mysterious Calamis. You barely know anything about it, and you’re hesitant to put your friends at risk.

Yet you find yourself arriving at school early the next morning, silently meeting up with your friends and trudging down the stairs to the basement before school starts. Your breath catches in your throat as Peter reaches for the door knob. Nothing happens.

“It’s locked?” “I could break the lock.” Peter offers, but MJ steps forward. “I hate to say it, but there’s no need for unnecessary property damage. I have keys to the building.” She rummages around in her bag for a second, then pulls out a few keys all attached to the same faded keychain. 

You, Peter, and Ned look at her in confusion, and Ned is the first one to speak up. “So it’s weird that I have access to the security cameras, but you literally have the keys to the school and that’s fine?” MJ nods. “Yes.” Peter bites back a laugh and tries the door knob once more. This time it opens, and you and your friends walk into the basement.

Instantly, you freeze. The room emanates that same heavy horror as before, but this time even more intense, if that’s possible. The runes painted across the floor and walls appear to have grown in number, and you can practically watch the ground cracking away. The small island of ground in the center of the room that has not fallen away to nothingness still remains, and blood pours from it like a deadly waterfall.

Beside you, Peter, Ned, and MJ seem oddly unmoved. “I can’t see anything.” You look at them in surprise. “What are you talking about? It’s right there.” Ned just shakes his head. “No. It’s just an ordinary basement.” You think for a second, and then it hits you. “It must be a sorcerer thing. Here, I can make you see it.” MJ frowns. “What are you going to do to us?” You wave a hand dismissively. “It’s a very basic spell. It just allows you to see past invisibility spells like this one.”

Peter nods. “I’m down. Do your magical thing, Y/N.” You smile and wave a hand in front of his face, watching his eyes flash gold briefly before returning to their normal color. He blinks once, then his eyes go wide. “What is that?” He points at the room. “The walls, the runes.. Why is the floor gone?” You sigh. “It’s the rift between dimensions.” Peter just stares, shocked. “Wow.” You project your spell onto Ned and MJ, who have the same horrified reaction as Peter.

The four of you stand there, gazing upon the mystical mess that is the basement of Midtown High. “What do we even do to stop this? I mean, how can we patch up this type of thing?” You shrug at Peter’s words. “I don’t know, but we have to find out before things get too bad.” Overhead, the bell rings once, signaling that the school day will start in five minutes. “I guess we figure it out in class.”

Luckily, the four of you share first period today- chemistry. Peter is partnered with Ned, and the two of them are one row in front of you and MJ, who are also paired together. This allows you to have muted conversations during work time about what you’re going to do about this Shadow problem.

When the ground shakes the first time, you’re not sure you felt anything. The second time, you think you’re just imagining it. Then, the tremors truly start, and you look at your friends in fear as your desks and chairs start rattling on the moving ground. Overhead, the lights flicker and then go out. Above the din of the classroom, the teacher shouts in an attempt to calm down her panicked class. “It’s just an earthquake! Please, go back to your work!”

Yet there’s a sound growing from outside of your classroom. It starts off quietly, and then grows in volume. It sounds like a roar of sorts, and it’s joined by the terrified screams of students down the hall. You realize in horror that it’s coming from the direction of the basement.

When the rest of your classmates hear the students screaming, all hell breaks loose. People run out of the room and into the halls. You take advantage of the mad rush to grab your friends. “I think Calamis- that shadow monster from the other dimension- is causing this. We have to do something.” 

Peter nods in agreement. “I’ve got my Spider-Man suit in my bag, I’ll meet you by the stairs to the basement. Ned, MJ, you have to get people out of here.” MJ raises her hands in protest. “We can stay around! You need all the help you can get. You shake your head. “Peter is right. This is an otherworldly threat, and we’re the ones best suited to stop it. The best way you can help us is by getting people out of the way and into safety.”

MJ and Ned don’t look happy to leave you, but they agree and run out of the room. By the time you make your way through the panicked throng to the stairs leading to the basement, you’ve changed your school clothes into the robes of a Master of the Mystic Arts, hood pulled up to hide your face and pure magical energy coursing around your hands in preparation. Peter’s already in his Spider-Man suit, and the two of you exchange a few words for a plan before heading down the stairs.

The basement doors are flung open. One is bent almost in half, and the other is lying on the ground a distance away from the doorway, having been ripped off its hinges. You draw up a shield of magical energy in front of you and Peter, and the two of you step through the doorway.

Inside, you can see the true form of Calamis. He looks just as the book described- a somewhat humanoid silhouette, composed of pure shadow. He seems dark enough to snuff out the lights of an entire civilization, which is actually what he was born to do. When the two of you approach, he raises from his seated position on the blood rock in the center of the basement to stand and face you. He doesn’t have to say anything, just raises his arms and shadow pours from his hands, flowing across the chasm towards you like thick black smoke.

Instantly, you can tell that this shadow stuff won’t be safe to touch. You grab your sling ring from the chain around your neck and open up a portal in front of it, causing it to disappear somewhere deep in the pit below the school. Hopefully, it’ll end up in Calamis’ dimension and won’t bother you any longer.

Calamis twists around in rage and spreads his arms once more, causing the ceiling to shake and rain rubble around you. This time, it’s Peter’s turn to act. He slings the largest chunk of plaster and concrete towards the Shadow using his webs, and it actually hits the monster with some sort of impact. Unfortunately, all this seemed to do was make him mad, as Calamis finally steps off of his position on the rock and rushes toward you.

When he first hits you, he knocks you several feet down the hallway. You and Peter are forced to engage the Shadow in a desperate fight, you forcing back pools of darkness with spells and Peter using his webs to go on the offensive. You think you’re doing a pretty good job of holding him off, but eventually Calamis grows tired of the fight and summons one massive wave of darkness that knocks the ceiling down on top of you.

From the second his blow hits, your vision fades to almost nothing. Distantly, you feel yourself knocked backwards, and your body hits the ground with an impact that should hurt more than anything but is barely noticed. There’s a slight coppery taste in your mouth; it could be blood but you can’t sense enough to be sure. Overhead, you can distantly hear the sound of someone shouting your name, and then there’s the sensation of someone holding you in their arms.

When you finally come back to reality, Peter’s carrying you. He appears to have swung out of the basement and the two of you now stand in a deserted hallway, one lined with rubble from the fight. You must not have gone far. 

Peter notices that you’re conscious once more, and he breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank God you’re okay. I managed to get us out of there, but I’m not sure where Calamis went.” You nod slowly, still not entirely thinking straight. Your hand unconsciously travels to your neck, and your eyes fly open in a panic when you realize that the chain is empty. “Where’s my sling ring? It’s gone!” 

Peter hands you something. “Don’t worry, I picked it up before we left. It’s alright.” You breathe out, feeling your heart rate come back to normal. “Thanks, Peter.” You slowly stand up, stretching as the injuries you sustained during the fight start to make themselves known. You wince as you flex your wrist. Peter looks at you, troubled. 

“Just promise me you won’t do anything like that again. I thought you were going to die, Y/N. You took a pretty hard hit. I know-” He cuts himself off, turning his head to the side as he struggles to find the right words. “I know I don’t mean a whole lot to you right now, but please, please tell me you’re going to stop risking your life like that. I can’t take it if you die.”

You look at him, shaking your head softly. “Peter, I do care about you. What are you talking about?” Peter sighs. “I know you said that at the beginning, but god, Y/N, you’ve barely spoken to me in weeks. You’ve stopped doing patrols, and then you’re saying you want to leave all of this behind, leave me behind? Maybe you can’t say it yourself, but you’ve made it pretty obvious that I’m not anywhere near the top of your priorities.”

You stare at him for a second, then break out into an incredulous laugh. “I don’t care about you? Peter, I’ve done all of this for you. You’ve been on my mind this entire time, from the second I met you. Why do you think I did patrols with you? Why do you think I watched all of the Star Wars movies so I could have talking points with you and Ned? Hell, why do you think I moved to Midtown? It wasn’t just so I could excel in school, Peter, it was because I loved you. And the worst part about loving you is that I’ve had to watch you choose MJ over everyone, and it hurts me more than I thought possible. You’re the most important person to me, but I am not the same to you.”

You breathe out slowly. Why did you say all that? You do have to admit that it feels good to let all of those words out in a rush, to finally get everything off of your chest. For once, all of the secrets you’ve kept bottled up inside of you have been let out.

Peter is silent for one second, two seconds, three. Then he walks over to you, and for a heartbeat you think he’s furious. Then his arms are wrapped around you, and he’s kissing you. You can’t do anything but stand there, stunned. Peter laughs quietly. “You thought I was in love with MJ? Y/N, I kept spending so much time with her because it was the only thing I could do to stop staring at you.” 

You shake your head slowly, letting a smile cross your face. “Really?” “Really.” He kisses you again, and for once you’re not thinking about malevolent Shadows, or overbearing teachers, or any of the thousands of troubles that have made their way into your life. All you can think about is the fact that the boy you love is standing close to you and that he feels the exact same way about you.

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