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yandere-sins · 11 months

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Favorite

You are Astarion's favorite blood sacrifice. He decides to reward you for it.

Characters: Yandere!Ascended!Astarion x GN!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: Yandere, Vampires, Reader nearly dies, Blood being mentioned in all manners, Biting, Death mention, Minor sexual hints, Desperation, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Minor violent acts (not directed at reader except biting)

a/n: I don't have a big Halloween story for you guys, but I've been trying to get back into writing more and I've been working on this story the last couple of days, so I hope you enjoy it ♥ (I mean it's vampires so that's almost Halloween-themed right???)

Darkness is a vampire's best friend.

It shields them, hides them, benefits them—all without expecting something in return. It's nature's way of making up for all the pain and suffering it put its less loved children of the night through, and they welcome it, moonlight glistening on their skin, their perception so much sharper without the fear of sunlight's burn.

Like eager partners in crime, a vampire's gifts are amplified by what the darkness provides. They stalk in the shadowy coat of the night; see the prey that wants to stay unseen. Their voices, mellow and honeyed, sound even sweeter, whispered in the ears of those who wander into the vampire's hunting grounds as the creatures lure their prey with promises of grandeur. Fame, money, lust. It seems to be all that their food desires. What more could someone want who's unaware of being tricked? And so they follow wherever the masters of night command them.

Deeper and deeper into the darkness.

"Hello, darling."

You came to hate it—all of it. The darkness, the night.

The whispers and touches, promises and the hunt. You knew he had many more like you, living blood banks stored in cold, dark cells. You heard them scream every night when the bell rang twelve, the darkest hour of the day. Sometimes, you recognized the cries as the ones from days before, but you never knew when would be the last time you'd hear the poor souls lost in the darkness. New ones came and went, but you were the only one that remained after every night.

Somewhere between three and four months, you lost count of the days spent here. You tried to remember how many times you'd been visited, but one miscount, and now you didn't know if it had been one or ten years. You would have expected to get mad in the darkness, alone and aching from your shoulders to your ankles, with no place on your body unbitten. But Astarion was punctual—perhaps the only good quality about him. That was the only thing to keep you grounded down here.

He didn't miss a single day of feeding or, as he called it, spending time with you.

Alongside your meal, he showed up at exactly midnight every night, someone always there to close the door behind him without fail. You had never seen his face, but you had felt it plenty of times beneath your fingertips, enough to know he was one of those handsome bloodsuckers who kidnapped and locked you here. At least for now, as long as you were pretty enough in his eyes as well. Eyes that you felt creeping over your body the moment the only door to the outside opened, only more darkness waiting behind it. They mustered you, devoured you perhaps, an appetizer before the main course.

You knew nothing of your nightly visitor besides his punctuality and his name. There was no face to associate it with, just the feeling of his cold skin and the sharp pain of his fangs in your memory. And yet, something told you he was special even among his kind. Somewhat… superior. He still had the capability to be gentle if he wanted, never causing you to cry out in agony like the other sacrificial lambs did. And more importantly, after all this time, you were sure he was the one keeping you alive.

"Astarion," you greeted him, simply, calmly. Hiding the shiver in your voice despite the room growing colder ever since he stepped inside. It was hard to say if you were still afraid of death when it was a constant threat like a noose hanging above your head. Perhaps you dreaded surviving more than dying if you thought about it, your heart growing heavier with fear and loneliness every day. But at the same time, you grew more and more desensitized to the screams and pain and more used to the darkness.

Hugging your body with one arm, you used the other to walk along the wall to your chair, the wood creaking as you sat down, scooting it closer to the table. He liked it when you did what he wanted without him having to ask you to. Astarion's steps were non-existent, but you needn't wait for or invite him to join you. You could always count on his chest pressing against your back the moment you sat down as he leaned over you from behind. It was a familiar yet suppressive feeling. A reminder of your position.

You were below him, prey to be consumed. Yet, he treated you more like a pet, almost beloved, but at best, you were well-cared for. You doubted he could feel anything towards you that wasn't belittling. You'd not thrive in the darkness on your own, but Astarion knew how to keep you alive. A waft of roasted chicken drifted into your nose, hearty and mouth-watering, and you had no doubts it would be accompanied by sides that would nourish the dire lack of vitamins you had. He had always insisted on you finishing your plate, feeding you himself if he had to. It couldn't go that you'd not eat what he graciously provided. But this was the only meal you were given every day, and the loss of blood made you too hungry to strike.

You tried once. For almost a week, you starved yourself until you could not do it anymore. Continuing not to eat when you were starving and food was served in masses to you cost too much willpower that you didn't have. Likewise, eating the food with the condition that you had to sit on his lap and thank him for every measly pea he fed you one after the other was enough humiliation to never try that again. And Astarion had been happy since with your plate wiped clean.

"You smell delightfully today," he mused as he drew back from the table. You felt his lips brush over your bare shoulder, your breath hitching when he pressed them to the nape of your neck. You'd not put it past him to eat before you, even though he seemed satisfied waiting for you to finish most of the time.

"Garbor gave me new soap today. Roses, I think," you breathed, reaching forward to the cutlery that, no doubt, laid beside the plate Astarion brought. It just appeared, almost magically. But you were pretty sure it was there all along, Garbor, the guard, probably cleaning and switching it out while you were asleep. You didn't even know if his name was Garbor; you merely decided to call him that. After all, no one would speak to you here aside from Astarion, even if you knew they existed in the shadows.

"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," Astarion chuckled, his comment profoundly unsettling as you knew what he meant when he said you smelled nice. Your blood. To him, you must have smelled as mouth-wateringly as your meal did to you. You had always empathized with animals, wishing for them to live their lives as best as possible, even if they were destined to be slaughtered. Ironic, now that you were cattle to a vampire, likely being fed according to Astarion's tastes.

"Next time, I think I'd like something citrusy again. The last soap was divine."

His hands driving up your arms made you nervous. They were unfettered by your movements as you aimlessly tried to pierce meat and vegetables onto your fork, your eyes never adjusting to the complete darkness of the basement cellar. You weren't a vampire, after all. Despite the time spent down here, the broken fear and authority between you two, he could still make you nervous. And you talked when you were anxious, to the point you wanted to bite your own tongue off.

A mix of a chuckle and a scoff escaped him as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, his nails resting softly against your throat while his thumbs ran up and down the sides of your spine in feathery touches. Slowly, reassuring you of his presence. And the ability to snap your neck with this formidable cut-throat necklace. He readjusted his touch a few times until his pointer fingers pressed against your pulse on one side, your gullet on the other. Enough for you to eat and breathe, but you didn't dare to move your head.

"I shall tell… Garbor, to fetch that for you. Anything else? Another pillow? A new shirt? Would my darling fancy some earrings? We just so happen to have someone donate a wonderful pair of rubies that would look so beautifully dangling from your ears."

A shudder went through you; the word 'donate' was not one to take kindly. People donated to charities and beggars. Not to someone who could put meat on a plate every day for you and obviously had no saintly bone in his body. Gulping down the chicken that got stuck on your tongue as you listened to the sultry voice of your captor, you put down the fork for a moment to think, clearing your throat as best as you could with his hands still pretending to be a necklace.

"A candle maybe, and a book. I feel like now's a great time to pick up a new hobby."

You heard the grin spread on Astarion's lips as he chuckled, his thumbs curling inwards until you felt his nails press against your skin. "I do so very like those entertaining ideas of yours, sweetling. But alas, I'm afraid I cannot give you that. You'd end up preferring the book over my company!"

"How could I ever, Sir? I wasn't planning on going on a paper diet."

This time, he actually burst out into laughter, hands disappearing into the darkness as you presumed he held his stomach from the ache of amusement. You wasted no time to stuff two more bites into your mouth as long as you had the freedom that was oh-so short-lived. His hands banging on the table in front of you created an explosive sound in the small confinement you called home. Compared to the cold body pressed against you, his breath skimmed your ear warmly, his voice like honey dripping right into your ear.

"That's why you're my favorite. Those little witty comments of yours have saved you so many times, you know?"

The food you were so eager to sneak into your mouth now threatened to fall out of it as you couldn't find the strength to swallow. Some instinctual part of you waited for him to attack, exploit your vulnerable self. It readied you, muscles tense, body paying attention to everything it could perceive (which was shamefully little with your senses so inferior to the vampire). But then there was the rational part of your brain, currently occupied with the warmth of his breath gracing your ear and cheek, and his words.

Favorite. You were his favorite.

You forced yourself to finish chewing, slowly, embarrassingly aware of Astarion waiting for another 'witty' remark from his favorite. Favorite late-night amusement? Favorite person to take care of? Favorite blood bag? You felt his eyes drilling into your jaw expectantly as you chewed your food properly before you leaned forward to reach for the cup of water that was unmistakably always on the table. Perhaps because of the darkness, you were so very aware of your hair brushing his nose and the deep inhale it caused Astarion to take before he pressed his face into it, gripping a bunch of it with one hand and forcing you to halt.

"You're my undoing, pet."

"Really?" you said in your most convincing, surprised voice, trying your hardest to sound as fake as possible. Revealing his thoughts to you might have given you a chance to bargain with him, even though this cell and the darkness had long become much safer than anything he could offer. In reality, you knew better than to trust the words of a vampire, yet found yourself truly surprised about the reverence they were spoken with. "It's hard to imagine I could do such a thing. I'm just sitting here."

Astarion hummed, amused, satisfied with your remark once again. Another chance at life, how you noted duly. Perhaps he liked the challenge of you playing his game, neither of you ever speaking the whole truth and coating your words in sarcasm and fake friendliness. Or maybe vampires were accompanied by madness that made them prefer prey who didn't cave as easily into a begging, sobbing mess. Prey like you.

"It's been years—no, decades since I last took a liking in someone, and you have no idea how much I longed for companionship like yours. It's exciting and a bit of a tease. I couldn't bring myself to kill you yet."

"How very gracious of you," you praised, hoping he didn't pay close attention to your face, a grimace edging into your features.

"You know, I might even be convinced to return you to the light. If you ask, nicely."

And suddenly, there it was. You gulped as you felt your stomach twist anxiously, suddenly attacked by something you had long abandoned. Hope. A glimmer of it, at least. You remembered the days when you had still banged at the door, demanding and reasoning with anyone who'd hear you to release and let you go home. The early nights when you dreamed about the sun and the warmth of being surrounded by people. And now the time had finally come to reclaim those wishes, almost bringing you down to your knees.

You knew you couldn't be so foolish as to retort to being a boring, begging nobody. You had to be his favorite. Crawling over the dirty floor and clinging to him for dear life wasn't going to cut it, no matter how much you wanted to. Because yes! Yes to the surface, yes to leaving all of this behind. Escaping him would be much easier when you weren't locked in the darkness. You had waited so long for the sweet embrace of death and endured so much pain when you were forced to survive pitifully like this. You even became his favorite. And now it was paying off—if you played your cards right.

"Ah… I don't know," you sighed. You could hear your own voice, thin and nervous. Excited. Your mouth was dry, but your heart was banging against your rips. Undoubtedly, he knew that, but you hoped Astarion would forgive your very appropriate reaction. Maybe even fancy it.

Every flinch of your muscles and every word carefully uttered was driven by a hope that Astarion could easily crush if he disapproved. You never saw yourself as exceptionally talented with words, but if that was what he wanted, he should have it. Your mom would scold you for being a brat, but this vampire here favored your attitude enough to keep you alive, so it had to be good for something. "I was just starting to get comfortable here. It's so… cozy."

"Well, I have it cozy up there as well. Cushioned chairs and silk sheets—only the best for my best."

It was strange to hear his voice in the same tone as his usual banter, even though you could detect another tone swinging in the background. It was but an insignificant waver, one of uncertainty and doubt. Desperation. Maybe not as much as you, but he wanted you to agree, his reasons unclear. And yet, your heart setting out a beat must have given away that you recognized his wish since he added, "You were always a marvel. But imagine how good you'd look by my side up there. My consort. My favorite."

"W-Well, are the beds soft?" you pressed out quickly, trying to avoid the sensual allure of his voice being murmured into your ear. You didn't mean to stutter, biting your own tongue before deciding to calm yourself with deep, quiet breaths that you hoped he didn't notice. But you knew that everything he said went straight to the unreasonable part of your mind, the one a vampire knew to manipulate so well. But in your desire to get out of here, eagerness and giving in too easily could cost you everything.

"Very," he mused, and you were relieved to hear him still in good spirits, his next words almost a lilt. "Soft and warm. Like you."

"And the food?" you asked, gulping. You didn't care for the beds or the food.

"Oh, the food!"

His exclamation caught you by surprise, as did the sudden disappearance of his body. For a moment, you thought you had ruined your chance. Had gone too far with your hesitance. But next you knew, you felt his hand fall to your shoulder again, running down your arm until he had your wrist in his palm, lifting it to his face. Astarion planted one kiss below your thumb, then moved on to kissing the pulse beneath it.

"It's delightful! Delectable! The best you ever had. And me for dessert. You won't lack anything, I promise."

His promise meant very little to you, and yet, as he littered your wrist with kisses, you couldn't help but cave. It was everything about this situation, the hope, the reverent kisses, the empty promises, that blinded you from the danger. You hadn't questioned his intentions or the price you'd have to pay. Not when he spoke to you as if he was laying the world at your feet, promising you the moon, the stars, and everything beyond.

"Ask me, pet, and you can have it all. The luxuries, the world, me. All you have to do is ask, darling."

There they were, the simple, honeyed words every human wanted to hear. All feeding into your own desperation so perfectly as if they were made just for you. As if you were the only suffering fool in this world, and perhaps to Astarion, you were. The grin curling his lips upwards against your wrist revealed just how much of a fool he took you for when you opened your mouth again.

"I…" you hesitated. But not long enough. You had too much to lose, despite not knowing what you were going to lose agreeing to this. "I want to go to the surface."

"Do you now?" he smirked, and you felt the hard edge of his teeth as his lips parted in a wide grin.

"I want to, Sir. I want to be your favorite. I want to be by your side. Please take me with you."

For a moment, there was silence, then Astarion let out a hum of satisfaction followed by a deep breath.

"Oh, you are, darling. You are my favorite. I've longed for this moment for so long, yearned for it every damned day and night, and finally, it's here. Let's be together forever, alright? It'll hurt only a little, and then we'll always be together."

"What will hurt?" you asked before you felt the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your arm. You knew this pain, the searing burn of his fangs piercing your skin. You had felt it a hundred times, no, a thousand. But this one was short-lived, blood dripping from your hand as you bit your lip, holding back the tears. No one liked tears, and you were too close to your goal to ruin it now.

"Endure it," he purred, and it was almost a shame that he noticed, considering how much you fought yourself to keep your composure. "You'll have to bare this beautiful neck of yours if you want to be mine, darling."

There was another moment of hesitation, the taut skin of your neck always hurting the most if he bit it. But why even did he have to bite you? What good were two more bites of you in this dark cell when he could assume you'd be at his beck and call upstairs as well? Astarion couldn't know of your feeble escape plans yet, so he had no reason to doubt your devotion. And even if he did, wouldn't he enjoy feeding from you in one of the more comfortable beds he mentioned?

But pondering was of no use to you. You had to comply if you wanted your dreams to come true. Turning towards him and laying your head to the side, you could feel your hair fall out of the way, baring your neck so beautifully. "Yes, Sir," was your short, meager reply, and yet your arm immediately fell to your side, one of Astarion's hands wrapping around the back of your head while the other weighed down on your shoulder, keeping you in place.

"That's a good pet," he mumbled, face inching closer to your body with every spoken word. You braced yourself for the pain, the burning, the mess it would make, and you took it like a champ, which you probably were after all those bites—at first. However, all the bites before eventually ended. They never lasted more than a few minutes at worst. But not this one, and that's when you realized your mistake.

You gasped as you reached for him, grabbing his clothes like a lifeline to hold onto. Tears fell freely as the pain didn't stop, your body growing lighter while Astarion had little problems keeping you in place. "It hurts!" you sobbed as your thoughts became less reasonable, less controlled. Everything began to swim, and though you were sitting, you felt like you were going to fall. But even as you struggled to stay conscious, Astarion didn't stop, didn't care.

By the time you realized you were going to die, it was already much too late. Your life was drained out of you with all of your blood. At least you didn't have to feel the pain of your crushed hope or the desperation of, once again, being stuck in this cold and lonely darkness. If you were honest, you looked forward to escaping all of this, as had been your destiny for so long. At least this way, you'd be free, too. Differently than you thought, but free nonetheless.

"Mhm, darling. Even now, you're ravishingly beautiful."

You could hear the voice, but your body had no blood left to supply your brain, so it could understand anything. You didn't even feel his uncharacteristically warm fingers smear a thick fluid to your lips, slipping in to coat your tongue, reflexes working even when you were as good as dead.

"And you're mine. All mine."

At least you wouldn't have to die in this dark cell, though you had no strength left to think about what shithole you'd be thrown into instead. Your body was but a sack of skin and bones in his arms as he carried you outside, your head empty like your blood vessels. But even as you lay dying in Astarion's arms, getting carried away, you knew one thing for sure: You hated it. The pain and the blood. The cold and this evil man that had held you like a cattle for so long only to kill you just like everyone else in the end. You hated him. You hated everything.

And most, you hated the darkness that continued to surround you, enveloping you mercilessly as it cooperated with your murderer. Unaware that you, too, were meant to succumb to it. That your dying body was changing into that of a child of the night, a spawn to the very same lonely vampire you so willingly promised eternity to in exchange for what you believed had been your path to 'freedom'. The same freedom you'd never have now.

Because you were his favorite.

And he'd never let his favorite spawn leave.

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teddybeartoji · 5 months

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gojo goes to watch a cabaret show with his friends and ends up being so awestruck by you. you catch his eye immediately, shining so brightly in the center of the stage – how could satoru miss you? a big, big cocky smile and a wink into the crowd and he's already ready to fall to his knees before you. shoko has to punch his shoulder bc he's literally starting to levitate towards the stage????

he's already in love with your saccharine voice and the way you move, the way you carry yourself. he's not the only one that's abdolutely captivated, the whole room is looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky during your solo performance.

but now we all know how angelic satoru looks... it's impossible to not notice him in the shadowy crowd. when you lock eyes with him and sing a line to him – he's ready to explode. he feels giddy like a child, so honored and excited from the slightest piece of attention from you.

and he just keeps coming back. he's seen every single one of the shows you're in because he's just so obsessed. after one of the shows he happens to find you outside as you're just taking a fresh breath of air. he contemplates whether he's gonna say "hi" or not because he understands that a fan meeting after the long and tiring show could be a bit much. but then your eyes meet and his breath is hitching. you give him a warm smile and give him a soft "hi" yourself. you motion for him to come closer and you ask him what he thought of the show. he ofc ends up kind of rambling about all of the ones he has seen and you can't help but think that he's just soooo cute.

the conversation flows so well that you kind of forget how tired your body is and you decide to give him your number. the tips of his ears are so red bc omfg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you're giving him your number and he didn't even have to ask for it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! what the fuck!!!!!!!!!! suguru will never believe him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but nevertheless he pulls himself together and promises to take you on a cute little coffee date with a dopey smile on his face<333333333333

+ ofc u can imagine whatever kind of performances for this buttttttttt i have two very specific ones in my mind that i think satoru would love so much hehehe

sweet transvestite - like c'mon you know he'd eat this shit up. he has the biggest fucking grin on his face bc it's so funny and so entertaining (and hot) and it's just the kind he likes.

big spender - aaaaaaaaaaaa this one is sooo cool i love it and i think he would love it too. he'd love the outfits and the seductive tone. and i think he'd love it for the fact that you're literally singing abt a rich guy and........................ he is literally the big spender in question lmao i think this one would make his ego grow a little i won't lie.

#actually idk if cabaret is the right word #but like a musical and a show together #idk #i'm making stuff up hehehe #this thought has been in my head forever bc i like listening to songs like these #they're so fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#mickey is daydreaming #gojo #gojo drabble #gojo au #jjk gojo #angel boy #gojo satoru drabble #gojo headcanons

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cooketimm · 11 months

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Hardboiled #10-25 (1990-98) cover artwork by Bruce Timm

Interview from Cool Stuff Magazine #1 (1995):

Gary Lovisi: Much of your work is characterized by raw, intense energy and action, or beautiful women in stylish, dangerous settings. Some is obviously influenced by the pulps.

Bruce Timm: I’m big pulp fan, have been since the early 70s, when I started reading Doc Savage and Avenger reprints. I can’t really say how they’ve influenced my artwork much, except when doing pulp-homage stuff like the Bob Price books. But I do sometimes wish I was born decades earlier so I could have worked for some of the old pulps, which was why it was so much fun doing the Price stuff, and the «mock 50s» paperback covers for your Gryphon Books.

The hero pulps — Doc Savage, The Spider, The Shadow, etc — did have a big impact on my approach to the Batman cartoons. It’s something I tried to inject into the show from early on, the atmosphere, danger and illicit excitement, and especially that Norvell Page-type feeling of impending doom — the «doomed city» mood. It’s also why I set the sense in a timeless, 40s-styled world of big cars, padded shoulders, gangsters, shadowy streets, etc. I only wish we’d gone farther with it.

For instance, my original version of Batman himself was actually close to the Shadow: rarely seen close-up, speaking in short, clipped phrases, more mysterious, literally. I wanted to play him cold and remote, almost unhuman. But the network and our various story editors would have none of that! «We need to humanize him», «He needs to have a sense of humor», «We need to more about Bruce Wayne, the person», etc! Whereas I could care less about Bruce Wayne! He’s much more fascinating if you don’t know what he’s thinking, or what drives him.

A few «Shadowy» touches did survive. Batman is rarely seen be the public, almost never on TV. Even when dealing with the police, he’s usually off in shadows conferring with Commissioner Gordon only. And when he’s in the Batcave, he’s almost always in costume. My way of saying he’s Batman, not the other guy, not Bruce Wayne. Like Lamon Cranston, his true, «legal» identity is a facade.

I’ d love to do straight-ahead pulp hero adaptation someday. Doc or The Shadow or The Spider, either in comics or animation, without the senseless updating and over-explaining «character development» like in the Alec Baldwin-Shadow-fiasco-film.

Gary Lovisi: Your stunning covers for my Hardboiled mag are very popular with everyone who sees them. What are your feelings on hardboiled crime-related art?

Bruce Timm: It’s hard, actually, to define «crime-fiction» art. There’s pulp crime-fiction art, and digest crime-fiction art, both of which cross over with paperback crime-fiction art. Basically, I’m a fan of good illustration. Period. Regardless of subject matter. Composition, emotionally intensity, color and lighting effects are what I look for. And pretty girls, of course!

My favorite pulp crime artist is H. J. Ward, hands down. Gorgeous gals in twisty curvy poses, painted in luscious, creamy, wet-on-wet oil technique. My favorite paperback artists include Robert McGinnis, Robert Maguire, and Mitchell Hooks, the usual suspects.

My approach to the Hardboiled covers is different from my earlier «homage» work. When the covers were black and white, I used to experiment with different b&w textures, coquille board, zip-a-tone, xeroxed newsprint, whatever worked. Now that I’m doing them in color, I’m trying to make them as exciting and eye-catching as possible, with loud color, sexy gals, exaggerated action, and simple, graphic, almost cartoony styling.

#bruce timm #pulp #cover #cover art #interview

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oh-no-its-bird · 4 months

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Some Cardcaptor Sakura stuff ended up on my dash and now I'm thinking about a classic magical girl au. Magical girl Izuna my beloved,,

Has anyone done that yet? Am I going to have to be the one to do that? I'm totally going to have to be that guy aren't I. You know what tho, I think I'm ok with that

Alright;

✨️ Magical girl Izuna time ✨️

I think one or the biiju should be his animal mascot / contractor. Kurama is the obvious choice but Matatabi could be fun, and also like, cmon, fire cat.

Alternatively though in a totally different direction, maybe Amaterasu can be the contractor. It could both play into Uchiha lore and also have some shit about his power coming from the rising sun with his magical girl transformation. Maybe he gets stronger the higher the sun is in the sky, and then weaker at night to the point that he can barley even transform. Maybe the villain of this hypothetical magical girl show could be contracted by Kaguya, and get stronger with the moon in contrast.

Fun scene where despite it being night, he's able to transform because of sun lamps or some conviniently placed solar pannels or smthn.

Maybe the villain of that episode was depending on tech or something, so he gets to shout some quippy line about how "Oh yeah don't you just LOVE the wonders of modern technology!" Before fucking bludgeoning them to death with a magical girl staff or whatever his weapon is

Anyways, set it in vaguely highschool because this shit is always set in a school and I wanna have fun hitting all the tropes.

It acts on a "monster/villain of the week" system with some big shadowy bad guy apparently pulling the strings behind the curtains. The monsters are all existing people or animals, "corrupted by the shadow of the moon" or something along those lines. The moon promises them power to fulfill their wishes but then the wish will inevitably go wrong or the power will be too much for the person, corrupting them.

Izuna uses the power of Amaterasu's light and violence to purify whatever person/animal and return them to normal. Only some people are harder and sometimes require some good old power of friendship yelling to get through to them (this does not stop Izuna from usually just defaulting to violence tho)

Amaterasu lore dumps on him that they must be being corrupted by the power of Kaguya-hime, who was sealed away over a thousand years ago. And that with each monster made, she must grow closer to fully escaping. Which is why it's important that Izuna purify these people as fast as possible, to make sure that Kaguya doesn't receive power from their contratracts with her.

In the meanwhile, they need to brainstorm a way to put Kaguya back in her prison if she escapes. Because if she continues corrupting people for their energy, unless Izuna finds out how she's able to communicate with them from her prison, she will escape.

I want Hikaku as the token best friend who's let in on the magical girl secret (maybe by accident at first) and helps from the sidelines despite having no real power (he's the one who would have pulled in clutch with those solar pannels / sun lamps)

Tobirama can be the classic "ice prince" character who Izuna kind of hates and has a stupid rivalry with that usually seems one sided; Till he manages to rile up Tobirama enough to bite back

Touka as a foil to Hikaku but for Tobirama, acting as his best friend and occasional pain in the ass for both him and Izuna (she thinks Izuna is hilarious and that the stress migraine he causes Tobirama is good for him)

Seemingly clueless Madara and Hashirama, who turn out to be the reincarnations of the guys who originally sealed Kaguya away. They've both just graduated and seem to be too busy entering the adult world to notice Izuna getting caught up in magic shenanigans

School princess and shrine maiden Mito, who's ancestor was someone who helped to seal Kaguya, and who's family shrine still contains some hints at how they did it.

Itama as that one specific trope of a really sickly guy who everyone at school is always gossiping about, and who Tobirama is wayyy overprotective of.

Izuna, Hikaku, Touka and Tobirama are all in the kendo club. Hashirama and Madara were kendo champions and rivals before they graduated and now Izuna and Tobirama seem to be taking up their mantles.

So, Izuna is defeating new moon-mad monsters every week. A lot of them seem to pop up in conviniently nearby places, but he's no closer to finding out how Kaguya supposedly gets in contact with them.

As his adventures progress, he sometimes catches the coat tails of a mysterious other magical girl, but magic prevents him from remembering their face. But they'll appear and help out when he's in a really bad situation, and he sometimes catches them just watching. Suspicious!! But they're too fast for him to ever pin down for a real conversation.

Anyways; Eventually it seems like the monster of this week is going to be a steadily growing tense and unstable Tobirama. Izuna had started to learn the signs of oncoming moon-madness, and he can sense Kaguya's power eating away at him. He swoops in just in time as he sees the power start to consume Tobirama, only to watch as he's somehow able to fight back and regain control.

Still, Izuna will do his due diligence and burn the power away before it can turn him!

Tobirama does not seem to appreciate this. At all.

Queue identity reveal! Only not on Izuna's end.

So, the first twist in our story is that Tobirama ends up being the bad guy.

Flashback some months ago to when this all started:

Tobirama somehow stumbled on Kaguya where she was sealed away. Just like how Amaterasu can only interact with the real world through Izuna, without a magical girl contracted to her to act as her hands, Kaguya could do nothing to escape. So when Tobirama found her, she was immediatley readying her pitch; promising him power, knowledge, all sorts of things if he just helped to set her free. Even offering to bring back his dead brothers.

Though... well, Kaguya's power was fickle. All gods powers are. Amaterasu was only able to contract Izuna without exploding him with the heat of the sun because he was already born one of her children. And Tobirama isn't Kaguya's to claim, which means he ran the risk of getting fucking vaporized or corrupted or going crazy if he accepted the contract.

But with the promise of bringing his brothers back on the table, he wasn't about to say no. And maybe it was through sheer fucking stubbornness, but he was able to handle it. Kind of. He's managing.

(Which is why Izuna can't just purify him with Amaterasu's light or by talking him down, like he does with every moon-mad monster he fights. He's not possessed like they are, he's a proper countracted magical girl, just like Izuna)

Tobirama was able to bring back Itama and give Kaguya some more freedom behind her seal, but still mostly locked away as she was, Kaguya didn't have the power to bring back Kawarama as well, and Itama was brought back weaker than he'd died as.

Which is when Tobirama took matters into his own hands.

He began approaching other people, much like Kaguya had approached him. Offering them contracts with Kaguya on her behalf— only they turned out to not be able to hold on to the contracts like he could. Being corrupted or going mad and becoming moon-posessed. Still, each contract he made added to Kaguya's power and brought her a little closer to escaping her seal. (And closer to giving Tobirama his last brother back)

(And hey, with Izuna keeping the damage to a minimum and helping purify the people after, Tobirama didn't have to feel as guilty about the damage he was causing)

(Still though, when it looked like Izuna was struggling, he'd try to pitch in. Or when a person made an especially desperate wish or had a specific goal to fulfill with their contract, he'd try his best to help with that. If only as an apology)

But stubbornness wasn't enough to keep him safe from the sharp edges of Kaguya's power forever, and as time passed and the more contracts he made and power he gathered for Kaguya, the more he began to risk being consumed himself.

Which leads back to the here and now, with Tobirama assuming that since Izuna attacked, he'd been made. And Izuna first being really fucking confused, then really fucking concerned, then really fucking mad.

They fight, Tobirama gets away, and the next day Izuna gets to experience the most painful school day of his fucking life. Starting with the realization that, while he can recognize Tobirama since he saw him transform, Tobirama doesn't actually know Izuna is the magical girl

Interlude:

Izuna: What the fuck why did he get a wish when he became a magical girl, I want a wish why the fuck didn't I get one

Amaterasu: :3

Izuna: AND PANTS?? WHY DOES HE GET PANTS???

Amaterasu: teehee <3

Izuna: Don't you fucking teehee me right now

Tobirama, knowing he's going to lose himself to Kaguya's power and aware that a) he's come too far there's no backing out now, and b) he's ok with losing himself if it means he can at least bring Kawarama back, decides to go full throttle. Skips all his classes and dissapears to go do shady shit behind the scenes as he massively moves up the time table for setting Kaguya free

He's already losing himself, might as well pump more power into people to create bigger, badder monsters— getting Kaguya even more power and putting even more strain on himself

This is about when Touka finds out what's happening with him, and decides she's ok with embracing the morally gray lifestyle for her bestie. She gets Tobirama to agree that once Kawarama is back, hes ending this shit for good. But till then, well, she always did tell him she'd have his back no matter what. Now she gets to parallel Hikaku even more!!! Yay!!!

Queue final battle time! Kaguya is on the very edge of escape and funneling more power into Tobirama than ever! Tobirama is either about to explode from the inside out or turn into a whole moon monster, it's unclear but he is this fucking close to losing it all. Quite literally, actually.

Touka gets to have a teeny bit of Kaguya's power for this battle, knowing the fight would be short enough and that she has enough self discipline to not immediatley go moon-mad.

She gets to face off with Hikaku, who gets his kendo sword blessed by Amaterasu so he can fight back against her moon powers.

It's all very dramatic and Tobirama gets to fully break out of his ice prince shell as he and Izuna scream and beat the shit out of eachother.

Im thinking that no matter what happens, Kaguya still gets free in the end and it's revealed that actually she and Amaterasu are like, bitter exes and this whole thing was a fucking lovers spat

Season 2 is just 20 episodes of Izuna being mad at Amaterasu as she and Kaguya make out passionately in the bg

Kidding. Probably. Idk I'm having a lot of thoughts rn, there's a shape of something to continue the magical girl train but I need to go do work shit so I'll leave this here for now and come back to it later

#birds fic talk #magical girl izuna #uchiha izuna #senju tobirama #tobiizu #magical girl #naruto #uchiha hikaku #senju touka #Spotify

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rip-quizilla · 1 year

Text

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: You realize that getting along with Eddie Munson is as effortless as breathing. Eddie sets a hard rule for himself for your burgeoning friendship.

Word Count: 5.5k

Tags for Entire Fic (from AO3): Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Inspired by When Harry Met Sally (1989), Slow Burn, Romantic Fluff, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Eddie Munson Lives, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, no one dies, Reader-Insert

Divider was created by the lovely and talented @hellfire--cult❤️

Part 1

Part 2

Spring, 1983

Monday morning was somehow normal, yet different at the same time.

You’d always known Eddie’s locker was near yours. You’d seen him in the hallways, usually one of the last stragglers ambling through the corridors as if he weren’t about to be late to class- but to you, he’d just as well have been in a different world. You’d never noticed how he always double-checked that his locker was closed by hitting it with the side of his closed fist before he locked it. Never noticed that he didn’t actually carry around a backpack most of the time, he just grabbed whatever ratty old textbook or fraying spiral notebook he needed from his locker and carried it to class in one hand. Now… it amazed you that you had ever been capable of overlooking Eddie Munson. The edges of every other person in the halls of Hawkins High seemed to fuzz and fade, leaving Eddie sharp and vivid, the lone focus of his own vignette. He was leaning up against the door to his locker and bobbing his head to the beat of whatever song played on his Walkman. His curls wisped forward, backward, softly brushing his shoulders and creating a shadowy curtain over his distracted eyes that glazed over while classmates passed him by-

“Are you staring at Eddie Munson?”

Robin’s voice cut you free of the trance you’d accidentally entered, and you blinked a few times while readjusting to reality. “Why would I be staring at Eddie Munson? That’s random.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the object of your not-so-subtle staring. “I agree, it is random.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, blocking Eddie from your sight and looking at you with eyes that very clearly said ‘Spill’. “So why the random staring? Did he do something? You know, besides the normal Eddie stuff like yelling in the cafeteria and being a menace in general-”

You laughed and shook your head, reaching into your own locker to grab what you needed for your first class of the day. “I wouldn’t use the term menace… I mean he’s actually not a bad guy. You know he gave me a ride home after I finished up in the theater department on Friday? And I didn’t even ask him, he just thought it wouldn’t be safe for me to walk home in the dark-” You shut your locker door to reveal Robin Buckley’s face, just painted with shock.

“You mean to tell me that you rode home in Eddie Munson’s car,” Her voice strained to maintain a whisper’s volume, and you prayed a silent ‘thank you’ that he was wearing headphones right now. “-and I’m just now finding out about it three days later?” Robin’s hands grasped your shoulders and shook. “I need details now, what were you guys even doing in the same room together at school on a Friday night?”

Your eyes flitted back to Eddie over Robin’s shoulder, checking to make sure that he was still too engrossed in whatever he was listening to to overhear the two of you talking about him. “Cool it, Buckley, he is literally right there.” You whispered the warning sharply through clenched teeth. “It’s nothing to write home about , honestly,” you shoved your things into your backpack, shrugging as if to emphasize how not a big deal this all was. “I was finishing up some sets for the play and he was running his dragon club thing, then when I mentioned I was walking home he offered me a ride.” Standing up straight, you shouldered your bag with a curt exhale. “That’s all that happened, I’m just saying he was nice enough to give me a ride home, so he must be a nice guy.”

“Yeah, or…” Robin’s mouth turned up in a knowing smirk, “...he was making a move-” The sentence was cut short by your no. 2 pencil pressing up against her lips. “I’m gonna stop you right there, Buckley.” You interrupted, rolling your eyes at how quickly your friend was trying to play matchmaker. “He was being a friend. We are friends now, that is all.” You stressed the last syllable, praying that she got the message.

Judging by her facial expression, she still wasn’t convinced. You yanked your pencil away from her mouth just in time to save it from her teeth as she jokingly tried to bite it. You laughed, casually checking for Eddie one more time and releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding when you saw the space he’d been occupying now empty.

Robin snaked her arm through yours, walking elbow to elbow with you towards your homeroom. “Maybe you’re right,” she conceded, voice lifting in an airy sort of way. “All I know is that the last time a guy offered me a ride, he was talking to my boobs.”

“Maybe he wanted to be friends with your boobs, then.” you shrugged.

Robin scoffed, nodding in agreement. “Oh I think that’s exactly what he wanted.” She made a show of shaking as an exaggerated shiver ran through her. “Ugh. Ew.”

Eddie exited the boys’ restroom just in time to hear your laughter ringing through the halls. It caught him off guard, his headphones in hand and hovering around his head as he poised to place them back over his ears, but then he heard your laugh.

When his eyes found you, the sight melted the edges of his stone-cold heart a little bit- you were arm in arm with that tall girl from band- Buckley, he’s pretty sure- your head thrown back, eyes scrunched closed, nose wrinkling, smiling wide as your laugh bounced musically among the sound of lockers slamming shut and footsteps shuffling to classrooms. Time slowed, his heartbeat skipped- he had made you laugh a couple times, but never like that. And he wanted to. He had no fucking clue why, but he wanted to hear that laugh every day. He wanted to be the one to elicit that much joy from you, to make your nose scrunch like that, to make you smile so big that he could see every tooth.

Recognizing this as a completely random and unnecessary train of thought, Eddie placed his headphones back on his ears as he made a mental note to learn where you sat during lunch.

Not because he wanted to sit with you or anything… he just wanted to know.

Nothing else changed until Wednesday.

You were sitting in your normal lunch spot- nestled in the soft green grass, leaning back against the trunk of the black cherry tree behind the school. You pulled your knees up to your chest and reveled in the way the springtime sunlight filtered through bright green leaves and tiny white flowers. In a word- it was heaven. And It was yours alone.

Until the soft scent of freshly blooming flowers began to mingle with the scent of cigarettes and Irish Spring- a smell you were now beginning to instantly recognize as Eddie.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked airily, taking a bite of your sandwich as Eddie leaned against the trunk of your tree, arm dangling nonchalantly. He smirked down at you as he surveyed what used to be your private lunch spot.

“I was wondering why I never see you in the cafeteria.” Eddie supplied, glancing up at the abundance of white flower petals that dotted the branches of the tree above your heads. It wasn’t a big tree, but big enough to provide shade with a trunk wide enough that you rested against it comfortably. “Cozy little spot you’ve got here.”

You smiled to yourself, answering through your bite of cucumber sandwich. “Yeah… I love it out here. The only downside is how easy it is to lose track of time- I actually didn’t wear a watch until I started spending lunches so far from the bell.” Eddie snorted, plopping down next to you on the surprisingly comfortable patch of grass.

“I am amazed that you’ve been able to get through seventeen years of your life without ever wearing a watch.” he laughed before- to your horror- beginning to poke through your lunchbox. You swatted his hand away like you would an unwanted pest, but not before he was able to swipe the other half of your sandwich. Without pausing for even a moment, he bit into the soft wonderbread and before you could protest, he took a couple of chews then promptly screwed up his face and spat the wad of chewed-up sandwich at the ground.

“The fuck kind of sandwich is this?” Eddie practically screeched, inspecting the insides of your cucumber sandwich with the utmost scrutiny. He peeled the sandwich apart, grimacing and holding the food gingerly between his thumb and forefinger.

While you were certainly frustrated that he was currently mangling half of your lunch, you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out through your words. “It’s a cucumber sandwich, it’s just cucumbers and this mix of cream cheese with a bunch of herbs and stuff.” Eddie’s grimace only grew into an expression of pure disgust with each word you said. “What,” you laughed harder. “You don’t like cucumbers?”

Dropping the remnants of your now deconstructed sandwich back into your lunchbox, Eddie shook his head and wiped his hands on his ripped black jeans. “What I like are normal American sandwiches. What do you have against a classic ham and cheese?”

You smirked, taking a bite from an apple you’d brought to accompany your sandwich. “I’m a vegetarian.”

A second ago, Eddie had been disgusted. Now, he looked appalled. “I’m sorry to break this to you, but I don’t think this friendship is gonna work out.”

There was a smile tucked into the outer corners of his big brown eyes, and you knew there wasn’t any real finality to his words.

You played along anyway. “Damn, another friend lost because of cucumbers.”

Eddie’s shoulders shook in a silent chuckle, smiling wide and leaning in closer. “Okay, well now I need to know what happened to the last one.”

“Choked on a cucumber.” you said without thinking, “It was tragic really, a devastating loss.”

Eddie’s eyes widened just the slightest bit, his lips curling upward slowly.. After a second, you realized the blatant sexual innuendo that one could easily derive from your joke, and once the realization set in you also found it difficult to hold your laughter back.

“I appreciate your restraint in not making a joke about that.” you bit out.

Eddie shrugged, throwing you a toothy grin. “It would’ve been too easy.”

You gazed up at the sunlight filtering in through the flower-studded branches and sighed, lips curling up to match the slyness of his grin. “You know what wouldn’t be easy?”

“Deep-throating a cucumber?”

Your grin grew, brightening your eyes and crinkling their corners. “Exactly.”

Eddie snorted, you cackled. The sounds were abrasive on their own, one guttural while the other sounded like the sort of laugh you only let out in front of family or friends who’ve known you long enough to refrain from judging you for how loud the laugh was. However, when combined, your mixed laughter sounded complete- like yours had been missing his and his had been missing yours, and neither had ever sounded right without the other.

Laughter subsided. Eyes met, flower-filtered rays of sun creating distorted bits of light across both of your faces. A bit of that light hit Eddie’s left iris at just the right angle, transforming brown into the sweetest honey.

Your breath stuttered, only slightly.

Eddie swiped the apple from your hand, taking a bite from the opposite side that you had bitten into only once. He relaxed into the tree’s bark, as if this were something you two did every day at lunch. Smiling, laughing, sharing food. You weren’t opposed to getting used to it.

“So,” Eddie said around the crunch of crisp fruit, “you hang out with Buckley, right?”

“Since we were kids.” you replied, a fond expression fluttering over your face. “You remember, she was there that Halloween where you attacked my bedroom window.”

Eddie’s hand rose to rake the hair back from his face, open-mouthed grin huffing out another laugh. “Oh man, that was so long ago,” he sighed, shaking his head. “That was Buckley? The bony-looking girl with the pigtails? OW!”

You gave him a jab with your elbow. “Rude! She was not bony!”

“Okay, fine, gangly-”

“She was an eleven-year-old!” You laughed despite yourself, shifting slightly to angle your face closer to his. “Everyone looks gangly at eleven.”

“You’ve got a point, you were pretty gangly.”

You sat up straight, eyeing him in disbelief. “There is no way you remember what I looked like when I was eleven. We didn’t even know each other back then.”

Eddie flopped over onto his stomach, balancing his weight on his elbows. “You always wore the same pair of red mary janes.” Eddie inspected the apple in his hand, twisting it in the light and admiring the way the sun shone on the waxy red peel.

“We didn’t exactly hang out, y’know… but I remember liking your shoes.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he smoothed his thumb over the red fruit. “They were this exact shade of red.” His eyes flicked up to yours, smirking at your expression which must have looked completely caught off-guard, because well… you were.

“I, uh… I almost forgot about those shoes.” you nearly whispered. “I loved them so much, I think I really did wear them to shreds. I remember being heartbroken when my mom made me throw them out, but the sole was literally peeling away from the rest of the shoe, they needed to go.”

You chuckled, shaking your head at Eddie’s astoundingly good memory. “How on earth do you remember those shoes?”

Eddie rolled over, one hand resting beneath his curls, the other still holding the apple aloft, letting it glint in the sun. “I told you, I liked them. Red’s my favorite color, you know.”

You pulled your knees closer to your chest, relaxing against the tree trunk with a comfortable exhale. “Did you ever have something like that? A piece of clothing or pair of shoes you loved so much, you wanted to wear it every single day, never cared if it was dirty or not?”

Eddie thought for a minute, then answered decisively, “This jacket, probably.” You inspected his jacket further, the black leather slightly faded but definitely in good condition. He obviously took care of it, the zippers on the cuffs shone silver in the sunlight, and while the material was beginning to crinkle at the elbows, the wear did nothing to diminish the quality of the piece.

“It’s nice.” you said softly. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen you without it since we started high school.”

Eddie smiled fondly, “My uncle Wayne gave it to me for Christmas one year. I must have been, I don’t know, fifteen? The thing was huge on me at first, but I’d say I grew into it nicely.” Stretching his arms up to the sky, he surveyed the dark leather until the face of his watch caused his eyes to bulge. “Shit, we gotta go, lunch ended five minutes ago.”

Frantically, you checked your watch too, cringing when you saw that he was right. Hurriedly, you shut the metal clasps on your tin lunchbox and a few seconds later, you were both on your feet and rushing toward the lunchroom doors.

“Hey, um-” Eddie said, “If you ever wanna sit inside, don’t, ah… don’t hesitate to-” you turned to look at him, a half-smile playing at your mouth at the sight of this brash boy suddenly stumbling over his words.

“You saying I can sit with you?” You supplied. Eddie smiled, his face unable to hide his relief that you’d read his mind.

“Well, when you ask so nicely, it would be a crime to deny such a request.” Eddie waggled his eyebrows to match his wolfish grin. You laughed, shoving him softly. You rolled your eyes when he opened the door for you, gesturing overdramatically for you to enter and bowing low as if you were an empress and he your humble servant.

“And I guess if you ever crave the peace and quiet of my lunch spot,” you drawled, “I wouldn’t be too inconvenienced by the company.”

Dark eyebrows drawn together by a crinkle and a sarcastically serious expression, Eddie clasped his hands behind his back while he nodded his head. “Oh and I would hate to inconvenience you.”

“I know you would.” you nodded, matching his energy effortlessly. Both of your serious expressions cracked to make way for soft laughter simultaneously. You both arrived at your lockers quickly, your steps rushed out of fear for being late to class. The two of you opened your respective lockers, and the sounds of metal opening and closing rang through the nearly empty hallways.

The moment you were sure yours was locked, Eddie called out “Hey!”, to which you glanced over your shoulder at him just in time for him to toss something in your direction, which you miraculously caught with ease. You looked down at your hand to see your apple, once bitten on each side. You quirked an eyebrow at your peculiar lunch partner.

“You can finish it, I ate more than you did out there.” you said, but Eddie was already walking away, hand in the air waving you off.

“Keep it, vegetarian, can’t have you going anemic on me.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “See you, Eddie.” He spun around, walking backwards with his hands in his pockets and eyes on the ground after flicking up to yours for barely a second. “See ya.” he muttered, and that smile that caused his full lips to quirk up to one side was starting to become familiar in a way that made your chest feel full.

Once you were out of each other’s sight, you turned the apple over in your hand, studying the bites on each side. You could see from the marks left by his teeth that Eddie had an overbite. That he must really like apples, because the bite was sizable, the opposite of tentative. You could see that the light shone a little brighter around the bite where the juice from the apple must have seeped out onto his tongue when he bit into the fruit. You felt a strange sense of warmth thinking about the flavor of this thing held in your hand still lingering in his mouth.

Taking one last look at your twin bites, you lifted the apple to your lips, adding a third bite between his and yours. The sweet juice from the apple flooded your taste buds, and you felt something within you hum contentedly as you raced to beat the bell.

The cafeteria on Thursday was buzzing with the noise and energy of a hundred antsy Hawkins teens. Eddie plopped his ass down at his usual seat at his usual table, reaching into his pocket eagerly to grab the two Slim Jims he’d swiped from the pantry before rushing out his trailer door that morning. He remembered to bring a lunch sometimes, but most often defaulted to eating whatever slop the lunch ladies had to offer… if it was edible. Today, he had taken one look at the Styrofoam cup filled with what was supposed to be chicken pot pie (it looked more like jizz mixed with peas and carrots, complete with a square of pie crust floating on top) and knew he would just have to deal with a growling stomach until he got home from school.

He was just about to peel open the first stick of jerky when divine providence dropped a gift down on the table in front of him. He paused, surveying the shining tin lunchbox sitting on his table- black with a bright red handle, the logo for Star Wars spelled out across the front accompanied by the image of a TIE Fighter firing at an X-Wing.

Eddie’s friends were already seated with their lunches at the table, and he followed their confused expressions to see you crossing behind him to take the empty seat by his side. The entire table remained silent.

You proceeded to open your own lunch- a simple green and blue thermos that held what looked to be a mixture of beans and rice. You opened up the collapsible spoon that attached to the lid and looked about ready to dig in when you took notice of the deadly silence, as well as every pair of eyes trained on you.

You glanced at the flabbergasted teens, then raised an eyebrow at Eddie. “Didn’t tell your friends that you invited me to sit with you?”

Eddie’s eyes were wide still, but his open mouth turned up at the corners as he placed his hands on the Star Wars lunchbox, turning it this way and that under his appraising gaze. “Ignore them” He held the lunchbox up beside his face, puppy dog eyes shining in full force. “Is this for little old me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Well yesterday, you pillaged my lunch because you’re obviously a starved dumpster raccoon,” you heard a snort a few seats down from you, though you didn’t look to see which Hellfire member approved of your sense of humor. “-so I made you your own. You can thank me by keeping your hands off my red beans and rice.”

“I didn’t know we’d have a guest joining us today.”

The voice came from the head of the table where Rick had just taken his seat. As the oldest member of the friend group, Rick had inherited the coveted spot at the head of the table. While Eddie loved Rick like a brother, he couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t just itching for the greasy-looking drug dealer to finally walk the stage in a couple months and bequeath that seat to Eddie. The rest of the guys already looked up to him- Hellfire was his, since Rick had never wanted any part in it, so from the moment he’d assumed the mantle of Dungeon Master last year, Hellfire had unofficially belonged to Eddie. Now, Rick was the only senior in their little group, so come next year- Eddie would be king of the table. It was small, and in the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter- but Eddie ached for that seat nonetheless.

You eyed Rick curiously, chewing on a bite of your rice and beans. “Eddie extended an invitation yesterday.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly toward the senior. “Was I supposed to fill out an application or something…?” Your tone was light, joking. Rick’s eyes took you in, and it irked Eddie a bit that Rick seemed to think he had some sort of final say about whether or not you were allowed at the table- this was just as much Eddie’s table as it was his, right? What did he care if someone new joined your group for lunch every once in a while?

Rick hmphed and relaxed into his chair, apparently deeming you worthy of keeping your seat. When he made no moves to answer your quip about filling out an application, you made a face and proceeded to continue eating your lunch. You leaned closer to Eddie, whispering to him out of Rick’s earshot “He always like this?”

Eddie smiled, toying with the shiny clasps on the Star Wars lunchbox. “Eh, he has his moments. But I am far more interested in what treasures lurk inside this box…” His thumbs flicked open both clasps, then looked suspiciously at you through his overgrown curly bangs. “This isn’t a mimic, is it?”

You snorted. “What?”

“Like, is this thing going to try and eat me when I open it?”

Judging by the chuckles from a couple other tablemates, there was some sort of joke you weren’t getting. You smiled wryly and shook your head. “No,” you laughed, “hopefully it’ll be the other way around, unless you have some kind of aversion to homemade chocolate chip cookies.”

Eddie’s eyes widened before practically ripping the lid of the lunchbox off its hinges. You laughed at the excited little gasp that escaped him when he saw the ziploc bags holding a ham and cheese sandwich, two cookies, apple slices, and a little juice box. Turning those doe eyes to you, Eddie held up the sandwich like it was a precious commodity.

“The vegetarian made me a ham and cheese sandwich,” he smiled. “Have I converted you to the dark side?”

You rolled your eyes. “I can handle touching it, I just don’t want to eat it.”

Oh. Oh that did not come out right.

Eddie’s lips pressed together, cheeks ballooning with a laugh that fought to breach the surface. You, however, couldn’t hold back a snort. You braced your elbow on the table, forehead resting in your hand as you shook your head in disbelief. “God, that one was bad.” Your shoulders shook, laughing at yourself along with Eddie, whose laughter had burst forth after you’d given him permission with your own self-deprecating humor.

Lunch flowed smoothly from there- the rest of the table fell into an easy rhythm of conversation, and you didn’t mind the jokes that went over your head, the way these boys discussed movies you hadn’t seen and asked Eddie questions about his plans for their upcoming Dungeons & Dragons session tomorrow. Before you knew it, you found yourself feeling comfortable at the Hellfire table. Eddie tore his way through the lunch you’d made him, even going as far as to moan dramatically when he bit into one of the cookies. He’d rolled his eyes back and thrown his entire weight in your direction, going limp against you as he chewed reverently on the sweet confection.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” he’d groaned, a couple of crumbs falling onto his lapels. “Bury me in these cookies, I’ll die happy and regret nothing.” You’d laughed, struggling to shove him away while he made a show of dying dramatically only to resurrect, take another bite, then die again.

People didn’t usually pay attention to the “freak” table during lunch, but if anyone did happen to glance your way that day, they would hear laughter tinkling like raindrops on a tin roof; see the seeds of a friendship beginning to bud in the most unlikely of places.

A few minutes before lunch ended, you proclaimed that you had a question about last night’s homework and needed to leave a few minutes early for class. Eddie thanked you for the lunch, adding in a more serious tone that you really didn’t need to make him lunch and that he owed you for the cookies, to which you replied that he could thank you by giving you a ride home after Hellfire tomorrow.

“I was already planning on it.” he’d replied with a grin.

When you’d taken your leave of the table, Rick spoke up for the first time since your exchange at the beginning of lunch. “So is your girlfriend sitting with us going to be a regular thing now?” Other conversations at the table ceased, everyone’s curiosity piqued by Rick’s mention of the elephant in the room. Eddie Munson, bringing a girl to sit with his friends at lunch? This was uncharted territory.

Eddie bristled. “Who said she was my girlfriend?” he narrowed his eyes at Rick, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

Rick leaned in, raising an eyebrow as his voice took up a teasing tone. “Oh you’re just buddies, huh?” Eddie nodded. Rick shook his head. “Nu-uh, nope. Not possible.”

Eddie scoffed, struggling to mask his irritation. He liked Rick- most of the time- but he wished his friend would just drop the subject. “Alright man, I’ll play along. Why?”

Rick smiled smugly, relaxing back into his chair and placing both hands leisurely behind his head. “Girls and guys can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.”

Jeff, a brace-faced sophomore sitting across from Eddie, muttered “They were being pretty friendly with each other-” The venomous look Eddie shot at him shut Jeff up before he could say any more.

Eddie turned back to Rick, his trademark smirk painting itself across his face as he matched Rick’s arrogant air. “What, Rick, are you so deprived that you don’t know how to be friends with a girl without trying to get in her pants?” A chorus of oooooo’s fluttered throughout the table, and Eddie felt a surge of pride when a flicker of annoyance flared behind Rick’s eyes. All it did was amp Eddie up even more.

“Unlike some men, I’m able to hold a civilized conversation with a woman without turning into a neanderthal and drooling like a dog.” Eddie crossed one leg over the other, shrugging his shoulders as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not just a man’s world anymore, gentlemen, I’m just keeping with the times.”

Rick shook his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of his faded denim jeans. “Whatever you say, man. But don’t tell me if she asked, you wouldn’t be all over that.”

Keeping his cool, Eddie shook his head and retained his cool composure. “Please,” he scoffed, “like anyone could handle all of this.” Eddie gestured to the entirety of his person, adding a hair flip for good measure. Even Rick couldn’t hold back his laughter at that.

“Yeah, you’re full of shit, Munson.” Rick chuckled. Eddie placed his elbows on the table, chin resting on his fists as he fluttered his eyelashes at Rick, who laughed even harder and gave Eddie a shove. The rest of the table also descended into laughter, and all was well now that the tension between the two oldest Hellfire members had subsided.

However, as Eddie exited the cafeteria with the rest of his friends, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Rick had said.

Girls and guys can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.

Was that true? It was such an archaic way of thinking in Eddie’s opinion, and he had no doubt that men and women were, in theory, perfectly capable of having sexless, platonic relationships with each other.

But could he? With you?

Eddie could admit that when he’d been a kid, he had felt those familiar pre-pubescent butterflies when you’d shoved him to the ground on Halloween all those years ago. But the confusing feelings of a thirteen-year-old boy and the effortless way the two of you had begun to fit together like puzzle pieces whenever you spent time together- they were completely unrelated.

Besides, Eddie remembered the conversation you’d had last week in his van. How you’d said if someone like him were to start seriously dating somebody at school, everyone would talk about it. A friendship might make the wrong people take notice of you, and if that happened Eddie would handle it… somehow. He didn’t want to see you go through the bullying he’d had to endure his whole life. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, much less someone he cared about.

It hit Eddie then… the strange fact that he did, indeed, care about you.

As a friend.

As long as things stayed that way, you could come and go from his little group as you pleased. You were free to be his friend when you felt like it, but could extricate yourself from him when it mattered. When it was dangerous to be a freak. You were safe that way; if by some crazy stroke of fate you decided you wanted more- decided to attach yourself to him publicly and seriously… Eddie couldn’t protect you from all the possible ramifications of a proclamation like that.

The decision had been made. As Eddie strode down the halls on his way to class, he concluded that he would be your friend. That you would be his, as long as that was what you wanted. And the sex part would never get in the way, because it would never even be an option. Even if he ever wanted that… he would never act on it. And there was no way you would ever want that either, so it would never be an issue.

That was that.

That night, you baked more chocolate chip cookies. You doubled the recipe to ensure that there were not only enough for every member of Hellfire to have at least two each during the session tomorrow, but also enough for Eddie to take the rest home.

And for some reason, you couldn’t wipe away the stupid little smile that kept slapping itself onto your face whenever you imagined Eddie biting into one of those cookies tomorrow, eyes rolling back in his head as he groaned about how good they tasted. Your cheeks warmed when you wondered if he would once again jokingly go limp against your shoulder, pressing into you with the full weight of his body.

If he did, you weren’t sure you’d want to push him away this time.

Part 3

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #friends to enemies to lovers #when harry met sally #eddie x reader #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers

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cherryrainn · 9 months

Note

✨Can I have some tmnt 2014/16 saving another mutant turtle (fem reader), who's 12 years old and was raised by the shredder. Although they were raised by him, the reader has a shy personality and is used to follow orders from those who are superior to them and is also used to being punished when they do something wrong.

This would all be platonic of course, I love big bros tmnt 2014/16

━━ ✧ 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; none, just the turtles and y/n (platonic)

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; thank you for your request!! i love these goobers

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; none

the moon hung high over the shadowy rooftops of new york city, casting a silvery glow over the labyrinthine alleys below. you found yourself skulking through these dark passages, each step muffled but purposeful. you had been raised by the shredder, the ominous and commanding leader of the foot clan, and this life of subjugation had instilled in you a shy demeanor and a tendency to follow orders without question.

your existence under the shredder's rule was marked by strict discipline and relentless training. his word was law, and any deviation from his commands resulted in swift and severe punishment. however, a part of you always yearned for something more—a sense of belonging and understanding that went beyond the cold, metallic walls of the foot clan's lair.

tonight was different. a clandestine mission had gone awry, and you found yourself stranded in unfamiliar territory, far from the safety of the foot clan's stronghold. unknown to you, your distress signal had not gone unnoticed. from the shadows, four figures emerged—four mutant turtles, just like you.

they had stumbled upon your location while patrolling the city. their keen senses picked up on your distress, and their instincts as protectors took over. although they were cautious, wary of a potential trap set by the foot clan, their sense of duty outweighed the risks.

the red one was the first to spot you, his keen eyes catching your silhouette against the dimly lit backdrop. "hey, guys, look," he whispered, signaling to his brothers. the blue one nodded, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. "stay alert. we don't know what we're dealing with here."

as they approached, you felt a wave of uncertainty wash over you. your instincts screamed at you to retreat, to report back to shredder, but something about these turtles was different. their body language conveyed not aggression, but rather a sense of concern and curiosity. yet, years of conditioning under the shredder's rule made it difficult for you to trust your own judgment.

the purple one, ever the intellectual, took a cautious step forward. "hey there," he began, his voice gentle yet firm. "we're not here to hurt you. are you alright?" his words pierced through the fog of your apprehension, planting a seed of doubt regarding the life you had always known.

the orange one, sensing your hesitation, tried a different approach. " we're just trying to help. you look like you could use a hand—or a shell," he quipped, attempting to lighten the mood. despite the gravity of the situation, a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. it was the first genuine emotion you had felt in a long time, and it resonated with the turtles' genuine intentions.

as the tension eased, the blue one took a step forward, maintaining a calm and steady demeanor. "we're not here to harm you," he assured. "but we need to know who you are and what brought you here."

you hesitated for a moment, glancing between the four brothers. they seemed sincere, yet the years of conditioning under the shredder's rule made trust a foreign concept. finally, you spoke, your voice a quiet murmur. "i'm y/n. i was raised by the shredder."

the revelation hung in the air, and the turtles exchanged wary glances. the red ones eyes narrowed, suspicion evident in his posture. "shredder's got a kid now?" he grumbled.

"no, it's not like that," you quickly interjected. "i was just raised by him. i'm not his daughter."

the purple one, the thinker of the group, furrowed his brow. "raised by the shredder? that's... complicated."

the orange one tried to diffuse the tension. "hey, we've all got our baggage. but right now, we gotta figure out what to do with you. you can't just go back to him, right?"

you shook your head, a hint of desperation in your eyes. "i can't go back. i don't want to go back."

the leader, took a moment to assess the situation. "we can't take you back to our lair without talking to master splinter. he'll know what to do."

a sudden realization crossed your face. "master splinter? like, the rat?"

the turtles exchanged amused glances, and the orange one chuckled. "yep, that's the guy. he's like our sensei and dad."

"you're like me," you muttered, more to yourself than to them. the idea of mutants like you, living above ground and free, was both bewildering and intriguing.

"yeah, we're not so different," the red one said, offering a reassuring grin. "come on, let's take you to our lair. but first, we needa talk to splinter."

the journey to their lair was filled with questions, your newfound brothers eager to learn more about your life and experiences. as you shared your story, the turtles became increasingly sympathetic, understanding the struggles you faced under the shredder's rule.

upon reaching the hidden lair, you stood before the wise and elderly master splinter. the turtles explained the situation, emphasizing your desire for freedom and a chance at a new life.

splinter studied you with keen eyes, his wisdom apparent. "the path of redemption is not an easy one, my child. but if you seek a chance for change, it can be found."

with that, the decision was made. in the underground lair, surrounded by your new brothers and a wise sensei, you embarked on a journey of self-discovery, redemption, and a chance at a life free from the shadows of the foot clan.

#TMNT #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #y/n #reader insert #x reader #ask #tmnt #platonic

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notimetoparty · 3 months

Note

im over here wondering how wallter would react to the grubs since i hc that hes awesome w taking care of children,,,,,

i love wallter so much

anyway wallter is going to be a very good protective figure to pest AND the grubs in this. same with mark.

idk when i'll ever get to it with the comic considering how BUSY I AM ALL THE TIME LATELY!!!! so i can share a bit of the ideas for funsies

mark will be offering pest and the grubs refuge in his world! and the grubs will be taking bites out of EVERYTHINNNNG they are little beasts. mark is still kind of scared of pest but poob and the kids are enough to get him to bend nigh immediately as a dad himself. mark does get nibbled here and there tho bless her heart they have to deal with so much during this part

as for wallter. wallter is big and strong and protective he is a Wall guys. he puts himself between pest + the grubs and the macabre city government at some point and protects them from those guys and hides them behind himself. pretty easy to hide things behind you when you are like a 10ft WALL just imagine pest's eyes squinting angrily from a dark shadowy spot where he's crouched behind wallter's legs it's really funny

wallter and mark are both dads themselves in this au. they absolutely help another dad out without question even tho wallter can be a bit of a judgemental asshole at times in this and i mean this in the silliest way -flint

#answers

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monsterfloofs · 11 months

Text

Rat (Male demon) x Anonymous Reader (Sfw)

(Welp. The audience voted for more silly beans. 👀✨️ So here yeh go! I hope you enjoy. I love Rat, he made me laugh quite a bit while I was writing skdksksjs)

“Witchling,” Rank breath causes you to wrinkle your nose, turning your head away from the sharp jutting teeth. A large snap trap of a maw and beady sunken in eyes leered down at you.

“Heard there was a new one of yeh creepin’ around downtown.”

“I live here now, thank you very much,” You managed to huff, but sounding airy and unbothered at being boxed into an alleyway was all but a mad bluff. You tried your best to see if you could eyeball a way to escape.

A first day in your new home and trouble was already brewing as soon as you had begun your walk to work.

“Yeh know, witch bones pay good on the black market ‘round here. I think I may just got my ticket to makin' a pretty penny."

You try to grin, but the disgust and horror on your face, pulls your mouth into more of a grimace.

“H-huh you don’t s-say. . .”

You covertly try to sneak your hand into your satchel.

"Now don't make me have to get rough with ya–"

There was a hard thunk that shattered into a million glistening crystal shards of glass over top of the big fellas head. You jolt in surprise at the sudden explosion. Reflexes kicking in enough so that you shield your face with your arms. You watch with horror as the imposing figure that had been looming over you moments before crumple to the concrete in a heap. The brick walls that had been boxing you in shuddered violently. Your eyes look from him lying motionless on the ground to the figure behind the hulking form. With a broken booze bottle in one hand. it steps out from the dark like a newly animated shadow. A dark trench coat tied tightly around a wiry frame. Two broken horns left stumps on either side of their face and bright luminous silvery eyes with pin prick slits. A tail swishing back and forth with a number of kinks in it that you guess are from numerous broken bones. The shadowy demon catches your gaze before a wide smile cracks open on its abyssal face.

It hums a jaunty tune as it stoops to rifle through the downed man's pockets. Silver eyes brightening as it pulls out a worn wallet and flips it open, tugging out a wad of cash.

"Is my Lucky day– Heya doll," That wide mouth grins wickedly up at you. "Wanna drink? He's payin."

Your eyes go round and you shake your head vehemently.

“N-nuh uh.”

“Yeh sure?”

“Ab-so-lutely.”

"Eh, suit yeh-self." The figure stands and pockets the money, tossingthe beat up wallet ontop of the would be accoster.

"Hopefully this palooka will twince about threatenin’ folks eh? Thanks for the dough, joe." He salutes the unconscious body before an arm snakes around you and you are hustled out of the alleyway.

"Hey- hey!" You try to pull away before you are pushed into the bright light of more warmer streets. You stumble forward and wobble to retain your balance.

"Now, scat kiddaroo, youse need to get outta here." He grins and flaps a hand at you, "Ain't nothin' good in these backallies, I promise. No shortcuts worth gettin' shanked."

"I was lost," You grumble hesitantly. "I was looking for the library."

"Library, uh?” They think for a moment before shoving the jagged existing half of the broken bottle into your hands.

"Hold this a sec, will yeh?"

You hold the dripping bottle with the tips of your fingers, the smell of strong alcohol stinging your nose.

“Come on kid, let’s boogey, before that big guy wakes up.”

Your eyebrows raise as the shade pushes a clear pathway through the brickwork of one of the walls. It cracked upon like a set of misaligned teeth, opening wider until you could see a dusty path between the stones.

“Whoa. . . what,”

“No questions, jus’ go!” With clawed hands shoving at you stumble through the cavernous open. “Get a wiggle on!”

You felt relatively harassed, as you are pushed into the tunnel you dig your hand into your bag. Fingers searching around before they close around the sharp edge of a crystal ward, just in case you had landed from the frying pan and straight into the fire.

The brickwork was pushed back into place, yet instead of the light closing up, there seemed to be thin light coming from above. Smuggled into a secret passageway of sorts.

“So,”

You jolt a little as you realize the demon had already moved close, without making a sound. Their hands resting on his cheeks as they propped their elbows on a dusty stack of empty kegs.

“You gotta name, they’m in distress?”

Oof, that was the worst pick up line you think you have ever heard. It took you a moment to even realize it was one.

“Uh. . . uh huh.” And you left it at that.

The demons look unphased. arching their back in a stretch and giving a yawn. In the low light their dark skin had a shimmery purple sheen to it. You could see glimpses of it where lights crossed from above.

"So what brings ya into town? Ain't from around here, that's for certain."

Your eyebrow creases as the large luminous eyes go up and down your frame. You cross your arms around yourself protectively, hunching your shoulders. He didn't seem to pose a threat, but he was especially nosey.

"The library is. . . ?"

He makes a noise. "Not a conversationalist? Awight! I gettcha!"

He breezes past you.

"Come'on cupcake."

"Cupc– Oh no. You are not calling me that." You huff, as you trot after them.

You had to hand it to your strange companion, after the confusing trek through passageways and then feeling like you were dismally lost in the heart of crowded city streets. He did bring you to the library. He had nudged you with his elbow, and pointed out the building to you a few blocks away. The sight of the library gives you a rush relief that if anything, you would be on time. Perhaps just in a more scuffed up state than you would have hoped for. Ah well.

The demon marches towards the double doors, pushing them open.

"Mags!" His throaty voice hollering into the quiet sanctum, "HEY MAGS!!"

A librarian looks up from her work at the large circular desk. She was tall and thin, with a hooked nose and long face. Long dark hard like fringed wings laid around her shoulder. Her lips part as the shade strolls across the threshold, about to say something before her eyes fall upon you. Looking alive if not worse for wear. . . and regrettably carrying a weapon.

They demon puffs themselves up proudly.

“Found this peach hangin around them back allies. Say's they work here. I'm their guardian angel or somethin’ swooped right in an saved em!”

They slung an arm around you once more, a quick hand mussing up your hair on your hair.

“He-heY QUIT!”

Her lips quirk forming an amused smile. “Oh no, certainly nothing like an angel. . . Thank you for helping them get here at least."

Mags eyes the broken bottle in your hands, and you wobble on the spot. She turns her graceful chin back in the demon's direction.

"Actually, I wanted to speak with you about something as well. . . If I find you sleeping in the library again Rat, I shall be forced to put a ward on this building.”

The demon, now dubbed Rat, had perked up, looking very pleased with itself. That is until it was threatened with expulsion. It gawked at her eyes wide.

“It’ssa public place! Yeh can’t do—“

“I can and I will.”

She put her hands on her hips, giving him a cool look.

Rat scrunches his face, slowly untangling himself from you, squinting his bulbous eyes at her. “Witch.”

“Yes, I am quite aware of what I am, thank you, now if that is all Mr. Rathbone. . . ?”

His eyes pop open as he shudders from the tip of his crooked tail up his back.

“I’m goin! I’m goIN! No need to get all hexxy vexxy on me!” He spits with disgust and squares his shoulders. “Dis is what I gets for helpin you uh? I’ll neveh do it again!”

His wide eyes turn to you and his expression becomes more sulky, pouting as he jabs a thumb at himself. “You owe for me dis witchy! I’ll be back!”

And like an indignant black cat, he slinks out of the door. Pausing long enough to stick his tongue out at the both of you from the window, before disappearing.

Mags puts a perfectly manicured hand to her cheek and sighs.

“Such a dramatic creature."

The librarian turns to you, her face softening. “I’m sorry to hear that there was trouble. I will give you protection charms to help keep you safe. I had to also learned that the hard way. Some streets are too dangerous to travel upon, even during the day. I am glad Rathbone found you though, despite his. . . flaws."

Mags snaps her fingers and the shards of glass as well as the broken bottle shimmer away. You flex your fingers in relief and sigh.

“Thanks. . . Sounds like you’ve dealt with him before.”

She raises her eyes to the ceiling, “Oh yes. I haven’t been here long, but we already are well acquainted.”

You were glad she hadn't mentioned the bottle, and you were all too ready to forgot the whole experience.

“. . .I take it then, you’re not from Verdigris either?”

She shakes her head, long earrings jingling. “I’m from Fayeweiss. We recently had our library system spread over to Verdigris, I am overseeing that we become established and connected to our sister libraries.”

“Fayeweiss. Wow, I have heard a lot of good things about Wyrn.” You smile, “Does he really do all his work in his sleep?”

You see the budding of a true smile on her lips, “. . . Just about. He runs his poor secretary quite mad.”

You purse your lips to stifle a laugh. That poor person. . . whoever they were.

“You’re not from around here either, but I don’t know the accent.”

“Oh,” You scuff your foot sheepishly, “Sunmel.”

“I heard the festivals there are lovely.”

You nod, “I was able to attend the last one before moving, I was glad I got to be there one last time.”

She places a warm hand on your shoulder, leading you gently. "Let's take a tour shall we? So you can get acquainted with the library. Would you like to take a small tea break before we start? You have had a hectic afternoon, and I have something to help settle those nerves."

A rough start to a first job ended on a pleasant note. Mags wasn't going to be your boss for the remainder of your position. Once the library was running well enough to stand on its own, she planned on traveling back to Fayeweiss. Which you were sad to hear, she seemed to be a kind individual and would have made a great boss and ally in this topsy turvy town. However she had promised the person who was going to be stepping into her role as a replacement she had trained herself.

You felt at least a little assured, but that assurance was short lived as you stepped outside. You stood outside the library doors, with your shoes facing twists of turns of the city's labyrinth before you. The sky was beginning to darken into twilight, and you felt your stomach clench. Clutching the carved stone Mags had given you until your fingers tingle from the pressure. What was the path you took earlier? Once mirror transportation was situated, work would be a step away. . . but in the meantime traveling on foot through the city was more than a little daunting.

“Witchy!”

The voice makes you jump, holding a hand to your heart. It was the shade you met in the ally. Not exactly comforting but at least they were someone you recognized.

“Yeh dropped ya wallet.”

You glare at Rat, before you pat yourself down. You had a faint glimmer of hope that despite that self-assured goofy grin on his face, you were going to find your pockets full. Alas, you are in fact missing your wallet.

“How did you–?”

“I neveh reveal my secrets.” He grins.

You make an attempt to take the wallet back but he snaps his wrist back.

“Oh no! Not afta you humiliated me. I said ya owe me.”

“Okay. I’ll buy you a new bottle of whatever you were drinking earlier?”

“Temptin,”

You take another swipe for the wallet but he dances out of your way. Waving the wallet playfully under your nose.

“How about a drink wit me?” He bats his large eyes at you, and you get the distinct impression that you have seen a similar looking face. One of an extremely bedraggled cat that dragged itself out of the bathtub.

“I am definitely not going to go drinking with someone who is blackmailing me. You can keep the wallet at that point.”

He pouts. “Yer about as fun as dat other witch.”

You pout back at him. “Whatever!” You scoff and cross your arms. "I don't go on dates with crooks."

"Eh! Dis crook saved yeh skin!"

"And then you stole my wallet?" You spread your arms wide. "Do you see how that isn't really endearing me to you??"

He sniffs before begrudgingly handing it back.

"And the money?"

He puts up his hands. "It's in dere! Sheesh! Talk about a picky customer!"

You shoot him an unimpressed look, because with all things considered, it's still your damn wallet. You flip it open to check the contents. With a cursory glance it looks like it's in there, but honestly you didn't feel like you could trust him.

"I thought you might want company on da way home. Yanno? Someone to show ya a safe path you can take."

You stare at him, watching as he widens his eyes and tries his best to look innocent.

"Imma upstandin' citizen."

He really was trying hard to sell that yarn wasn't he?

"Ah, no, I don't think so." You turn and march away from him.

"Come on!" He yowls. "Come on, come on, come on! You need me!"

You glance over your shoulder. Then take a nervous glance up at the sky. Do you really want this unsavory character knowing where you live? Or do you want to take the risk of running around lost in the big city when it's night time?

It was like that saying you remember hearing.

It's better to pick the devil you know, then pick the devil you don't.

At least with this weirdo you can perform a level of protection against his presence, if anything goes wrong. You suck in a deep breath and turn back around.

"Fine. . . since I am still learning my way around." You grumble.

He grins "Then come on, sweet cheeks! I'll getcha home inna wink!"

"Those nicknames. . . are horrendous. You know that right?"

He cackles and walks with a jaunty swagger in his step. You watch his tail brush past your knee before you sigh and begrudgingly follow behind him.

He slows his speed enough that the two of you end up side by side. He hums cheerfully to himself, lighting a small cigarette with a flick of his thumb and fitting it between his crooked maw.

"How'z the new job? Yeh like it?"

You give him a surprised glance before realizing he must have put two and two together. "It seems nice. . .” You shove your hands in your pockets thinking for a moment. "Oh, I think I remember the slang word they use around here. You're like, some kind of grifter right?"

Rat chokes on his cigarette, and accidentally eats it. He sputters out smoke, a clawed hand thumping his chest.

Oops.

"A WHAT?!" He manages to wheeze out.

"You know, a con man, a pickpocket, a swindler."

He squints at you, tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he gives one last cough of smoke.

You watch the smoke ring float past your head before you smile and cross your arms.

"I'm right aren't I? Why else would you be ducking around dubious alleyways?"

"I ain't that bad!" His ragged voice hisses, and you frown.

"Two wallet's a day isn't bad? You could of fooled me."

"Alright you snarky little," He grumbles the rest of what he was going to say inaudible. But then his face changes, and he gives an evil grin at you. "An. . . how much would you wager on that little assumption?"

"Wager?"

"Mmhm," His throaty voice rumbles and you frown.

"You mean like. . . a bet of sorts?"

His eyes glitter and you raise an eyebrow. Oh boy, demons and debts are like mixing bleach and ammonia.

"I thought you said you were a model citizen."

He sticks his tongue out playfully.

"I am doll! I am!"

Right. Totally model citizen behavior right here.

"I'll overlook losing a bottle of booze, hell I'll even be your escort until ya don't need help around the city. I'll prove that I ain't no grifter."

"And if you can prove that. . . ?"

He holds up a finger.

"One date. With me, afta work."

"Just a date? Are you that desperate?"

He squints at you, and you feel your face grow warm.

Oh yes, yes he is.

—-

You have gotten settled into the library space. Things are going well, you are learning a lot and flourishing in the quiet environment. You thought after so many attempts you thought Rat had finally given up.

But on your lunch break you heard, yowling, howling? Something?

Whatever noise that it was outside, it had you racing to look out one of the arched library windows. And there was your loverboy. Singing in the most god awful tone deaf song. At least, you think it was singing. You could barely make out “The Best is Yet to Come” by Frank Sinatra. Or perhaps you were giving him too much credit.

Perhaps.

Mags comes to join you at the tall paned window. Peering down over her spectacles at the scene below. “. . . I have to admit he is persistent.”

Your brow furrows, throwing up the window. “Rat!” You yell, “What that heck are you doing!”

“Date night!” He hollers back. He holds up a bottle of wine proudly. “I even brought wine! Th’ good stuff!”

“Where did you get the money for it??” You yell back.

You watch his hand fall to his side. Still staring up at you.

“Rat!! Where did you get the money!?"

Without answering his slinks away.

“Oh my gods,”

“There he goes,”

She gives you a look, “You. . . said you would go on a date with him?”

You look at her, “No. I made a bet. But I told him it had to be a clean date. No crookedness. I am guessing I’m going to win this one."

You rest your elbows on the window and you hear Mags trying to keep in laughter.

♡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡♡

Enjoy what I write? I have a tip jar!ヽ(*ᵔ▿ᵔ)ﾉ

I also take art n' writing commissions on my Ko-fi! It's on that same link!

#monster x reader #monster x human #demon x reader #demon x human #exophilia #floofyocs

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ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask · 6 months

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So I've got some thoughts for my RvB gang.

I had a thought recently. I found Sharkface to be an extremely boring villain. Like he was cool(ish) and the jokes about how edy he was trying to be were funny(ish) but. You know who would have been more fun? The dude with the robot arm.

Think about it - the guy was shot by Carolina and left behind on a drilling rig that blew up, and survived. He tanked a MAC round from orbit and all he lost was his right arm. They've set up a perfect villain here. Claiming he literally can't die would be so funny! Every time he appears he dies, then he just shows back up with yet another robotic prosthetic. His whole subplot is that he just desperately wants to die, and he finally figured out that the pyramid thing is his only shot at finally getting his wish. The problem is that he would also wipe out the rest of life as we know it if he did that.

Anyway, the background subplot is what's really important here. Carolina is being hunted down by a shadowy figure. Evidence points to him being another hired gun working with the pirates. He is always half a step behind her, getting closer and closer to tracking her down.

Eventually in the climax, the hitman catches up to Carolina. They go through an intense duel, where he seems to be able to anticipate all of her best moves and counteract them. Finally, she manages to hit the guy hard enough to knock off his helmet.

It's York.

Then we get some backstory - when York was shot going after Wyoming, Delta turned on his healing unit. He then told Tex that York was dying. As soon as she left Delta woke York back up, got him to swap armor with one of the grunts, and disappear.

So York spent several months slowly recovering. During that time, life finally beat him. He didn't have his armor, he didn't have his healing unit anymore, and he didn't have Delta to keep him coming. He finally gave up on the dream of finding Carolina alive somewhere.

So instead, he decided it was high time someone finally killed Director Church. He would kill the man who took everything he'd ever loved - admittedly, in a roundabout sort of way - from him. Only when he tracked the director down, he found hundreds of dead Allison lookalikes and archive footage of yet another cheap robot replacement killing the Director - except this time Church went to far. He made a replacement of her. He couldn't even let his own daughter's memory find peace.

So, York ended up with a new goal: kill the robot that had stolen Carolina's face (armor). End it once and for all. Bring some closure for the girl that he loved so much but never got to keep.

After all of this revelation, we finally get York and Carolina's big happy ending. I don't know how they beat the immortal robo guy, but mostly I just care about my Yorkalina angst and resolutions.

Anyway. I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts. And... should I write this at some point? Let me know.

#red vs blue #rvb #agent york #agent carolina #yorkalina

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inky-evergreen · 2 months

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Uhh yeah I redesigned Candide cause I can and this is my AU I so what (pleasedon'thatemeplease). I didn't change much of her personality wise since I kinda like her and felt like she had wasted potential as a character and antagonist. All I'm gonna say is that I got big plans for her (and a certain forgotten friend of ours) in the future of the series. But for now here's the things I did change about her

•Is the vice VICE principal of the school instead of a superior in order to get closer to the clones and to make sure Scudworth doesn't fuck up. Much to Scudworth's and Mr. B's dismay (they get used to her eventually don't worry)

• Is a very good manipulator and can put up a front real easy. She got almost all the clones to love her but at the same time fear her. Thinking that shes one of the people that if you're nice to her she's nice to you but if you're NOT... that's a death wish. It's almost scary how she does it. Candide says she gets it from her parents like that makes it any better.

• She still likes reptiles don't worry and has them around the school much to everybody's displeasure.

•Didn't really have a good childhood and reptiles were only friend. She felt like she didn't have a purpose from childhood wayyy up to adulthood. But when The board of shadowy figures recruited her in their business she finally felt whole. So she's quite devoted to them (maybe a lil too much)

•Speaking of The shadowy board she's real close to them and has a nice relationship with them. Sometimes they do thing that make her think that she can control their business better but it's all good :333

• She isn't the foster mom of Joan anymore but lovers of Candide and Joans dynamic DO NOT FRET!! They still interact. Joan is one of the only people that doesn't by Candide's nice guy act but that doesn't mean Candide would give up on her that easily. Joan is one of the top three of becoming the next world leader aside from Cleo and Harriet. And Candide is gonna make sure that Joan is gonna be the leader that she as destined to be.

•She's a GIRL KISSER !!! She likes WOMEN!!! She does NOT LIKE MEN!!! SCUDWORTH STOP TRYING TO PURSUE HER SHE'S A LESBIAN YOU STUPID FUCK!!!1!!1!1!1!!!1!!1!!!!1!!!!!!!

#clone high #clone high au #clone high fanart #clone high redesign #clone high: the future of forever #clone high candide #candide sampson #alternate universe #redesign #rewrite #character redesign #Shes a lesbian because say so #I also made her chubbier I really come it shows 😭😭#I also gave her hip diiiippss cause why the fuck not #okay now I'm gonna explode in 3 2 1

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sweetest-honeybee · 1 year

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so, if Frank's a conspiracy guy, is he aware that he lives in a neighborhood full of cryptids or does he like, keep comedically missing them doing cyptid things like the mom in phineas and ferb. do they know he's a cryptid researcher guy and are keeping it a secret from him, or do they just assume that he knows. do they think HE'S some kind of cryptid? what's the vibe?

Okay so I think he would keep comedically missing them just because the thought of him being obsessed with it and being (not so secretly) suspicious of his neighbors and all of them just being like 🤷🏻‍♀️ at it is so funny. Like him telling Eddie everything he’s seen or heard and Eddie, who is a creature/cryptid of some kind, just being supportive like “Okay you do that :D”

Maybe it would be normal for neighbors to be outside at night in this au and Frank happened to see something a little off while checking up on something outside. Maybe doing a last minute check on his tomatoes because he heard something in the garden, and seeing this black shadowy creature with big red eyes. And a familiar long and tube-shaped head

But Howdy will just deny it when Frank goes to him and accuses him of hiding something, say he was fast asleep that night and Frank might’ve just been seeing things! I mean, what kind of creatures like that would be in such a lovely neighborhood?

#I just wonder WHAT creatures everyone would be #bc I suppose not limited to just cryptids #like jsut monsters/creatures in general maybe #I need to find a list of cryptids 😂#but Eddie. his own husband. being one of them is SO funny

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thusspoketrish · 14 days

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WIP SNIP

OKAY! TAKE TWO! Thank you to @smehur for the tag!

Guys, I'm so silly. I had originally posted a snippet but forgot that the fic is for an anonymous fest! Whoops! Now this one, not for an anonymous fest! Anywho! It’s Halloween night, and married Harry and Draco are hoping to enjoy a romantic evening with a few scary films and a big bowl of popcorn. But their quiet evening is disrupted by an endless stream of trick-or-treaters—some of them more trick than treat. Also tagging (again, sorry!) @orangepellets @lizziedrip @xxspideyrebellexx @vukovich @sortofshea @newskyillusion @fictional, I'm so eager/curious to see what ya'll have been working on lately! No pressure to participate, though! xx

There, at the end of the drive where the streetlights barely reached, a shadowed figure stood watching him.

Harry squinted, brows furrowed in confusion. The person was blanketed in darkness, just on the outskirts of the moon's silvery stream of light, their form indistinct. He couldn’t make out any details—just the unsettling outline of a person no taller than the hedges, standing perfectly still.

Frozen for a moment, Harry called out, "Hello?” his voice steady but edged with a sharpness.

No response.

The figure didn’t move at first; it simply lingered there, a part of the shadows. Harry stepped forward, believing he must be mistaking a branch for a figure, but then, without a word, the shadowy figure turned and walked away, disappearing into the night.

A faint unease crept through Harry like winter’s first chill, breaking his skin into gooseflesh. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as he quickly stepped off the porch and cautiously made his way toward the end of the drive, his defensive instincts kicking in. He glanced up and down the road, seeing no one. His unease began to fade as he returned to the house. It was probably just some nosy teenager pranking him on Halloween or a local curious about the new residents. After all, the house at the end of Helix Road had remained empty for almost two decades.

As he shut and locked the door, Harry’s mind drifted back to when he and Draco first saw the two-story house. It had been charming in a way that caught them both off guard—an old Victorian with ivy creeping up the white brickwork and a wide porch with a teal-coloured door that seemed to beckon them in. They had fallen in love with it almost immediately. It was close to the Muggle primary school where Harry taught PE and the basement was easily converted into a lab for Draco’s potion-making. Everything had lined up so perfectly that it almost felt like fate.

The estate agent, of course, had tried to be discreet during the initial showing, lowering her voice as if the very walls might overhear her and seek retribution. She whispered that the house had a haunted history—perhaps even a lingering ghost or two. Harry had snorted at the idea, and Draco had rolled his eyes in amused exasperation. They’d faced Voldemort, Death Eaters, dark curses, prophecies, war, and death. A ghost or boggart would be a welcome distraction compared to what they’d endured in the fifteen years since the end of the war. “Haunted” was hardly a threat; it was practically a warm welcome to their usual brand of crazy. He had assured himself that they would handle whatever entity lingered in the shadows here without ever breaking a sweat.

But now, as he stood in their foyer, his hand still resting on the doorknob, concern wormed its way into his thoughts. It was nothing, he reassured himself, a harmless shadow or an annoying local, and no reason to alarm Draco. Draco would only smirk and say it was his overactive sense of vigilance getting the better of him again.

#WIP SNIP #current wip #drarry #drarry wip #Halloween fic #Drarry Halloween fic #this is legit horror though and I am feral about it #so ya'll should know things are about to go from 0 to 100 for Drarry #tag game #tagged post #no pressure to play!

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mcsm-catified · 1 year

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Episode six! This was a hefty project, I didn’t realize just how many characters there are. My gosh. I’m happy with the results though!

Torquedawg! Torquecat?? Torquey. I don’t have any strong opinions about the guy, guess that’s what happens when you’re killed off instantly to set the mood.

The Sparklez himself! His design was pretty easy to make. I wish he hadn’t been killed so fast, I really liked him. He could’ve been a great help, too. Ah well.

Lizzy! Poor girl. She only lives in one timeline, which I guess is better than the other two. Apparently you have to accuse Stampy to keep her alive, which we’ll… get to later. I have Opinions on Stampy.

Big and fluffy. I feel like his design is a bit uninspired, but I based it off of a handful of catified DanTDM art I found (not the mcsm character, just the YouTuber). It’s not too bad, I suppose. Probably the weakest design of the bunch.

Stripes! She’s a stripey gal. It’s a shame she gets kinda shunted to the sidelines since she wasn’t a suspect, but hey, at least she lives!

Feels weirdly cartoony, which was my intention. He’s a little off. Not quite right. He should’ve been the murderer, his motives were way better and the evidence points more to him anyway. He’s always lying during the interview for no reason, he puts emphasis on his reputation to deflect blame (“I’m Stampy! Everyone’s friend!”) AND he was at a button while Cassie wasn’t. Why wasn’t Cassie at a button?? She’s definitely not someone who would leave anything to chance.

Let the boy murder people.

Speaking of murderers, here she is! I was really worried that she would be a repeat of Aiden, where I put too much pressure on myself because it’s a fan favourite, and then have the design turn out total crap, but I’m actually pleased with how she turned out! She’s so emo <3

(I do plan to redesign Aiden as soon as I get a better idea by the way, his design is an absolute injustice.)

Winslow! It made absolutely no sense for him to remain as a cat, so taking a great suggestion from someone on Discord, he is a magpie! They’re highly intelligent (as corvids), can talk (I love the idea of him perched on Cassie making commentary), and are a symbol of ill fortune.

The elusive White Pumpkin. Pretty sure she dipped herself in ink or something. Just a shadowy thing. She’s also wearing gloves and a cloak to hide those unique markings.

Those claws are not natural and are bigger than usual, perfect for ripping!

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i-am-beckyu · 2 years

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My Monster to Slay

WOOOOOOO! I DID IT! 8K+ WORDS! Here it is! My 100 follower fic special! Thank you all for 100 followers on my blog! I love you all so much and can’t believe we actually hit such a big milestone! You guys all mean so much to me and I love that you guys like what I create! So without further a do, enjoy! cw: abandonment, child abuse, minor gore scene but no one dies (just a rando animal), fear, fear of death, panic and anxiety, fluff, hurt/comfort, and happy endings (you know me ❤️) word count: 8856

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

It was common knowledge that no one was to enter the Forest on the West end gate of the Village. Those who went in, never came out. What was beyond the shadowy cover of thick foliage was unknown, and those who dared enter were considered dead. So of course Tommy took an instant interest, when it was sung by a bard at the Winter Festival.

Within the forest of the dark twisted wood, A place no one can go, or ever should.

Lies a creature of mischief, filled with dire deceit, Who wanders the woods, hunting to eat.

To the people who enter, full of pride and valour, Though they see themself brave, will all hide and cower.

For the creature that lurks knows your presence is near. It finds all who venture, through the smell of their fear.

And as it speaks, hot breathe spilling from their chin, You know you’ve lost from its treacherous grin.

So listen to my tale, I tell all to thee Leave the forest alone, let what’s within just be.

For all who enter have never come out. Each one a strike, in the beast's victim count.

Well if one song could scream ‘danger’ it was this one, and danger was Tommy’s middle name! The boy at 12 years old knew an adventure when he saw one! A strange unknown setting shrouded in mystery with a potential target to slay? Oh what a perfect opportunity to prove himself to the people of the village if he could bring back the head of whatever lived within the Forest. He’s seen many hunters bring back the heads of deadly creatures from beyond the village walls, and be praised for their services and bravery in protecting the village. But to bring back the head of a menacing monster, preventing the village from expanding their assets to the forest would surely result in an entire parade to celebrate his conquest!

The young boy had eagerly gathered his satchel and a wooden sword before rushing to the West end gate. He would prove his worth, he would!!! For no one is greater than the one and only Tommy Danger Kraken Innit! But of course a quest for glory was not one so simple. The West end gate to the Forest was sealed off and had been un-open nor used for a long time. Heavy reinforced iron gates were chained and locked at their operating point, to prevent anyone from venturing out, or anything from getting in. But would this stop the great Tommyinnit? NO! Using all his might, he tried to break the chains, pouring all this strength into breaking the chains with his wooden sword. But after the 13th or 14th try, he decided to spare the chain and look for an alternative exit.

“You win this battle chain…” the young boy had muttered, as he began to search the surrounding walls.

One benefit of the West end gate being so unused was that the walls weren’t attended to or maintained as well as other sections. So it wasn’t long before Tommy had found a gap just big enough for him to squeeze through and onto the otherside. Before him lay the Forest, the tree cover casting an eerie dark shadow. A last chance effort to keep intruders away. Repositioning his satchel, Tommy took a deep breath in and marched forward into the forest's depths, ignoring how his heart pounded as he began to journey deeper into the heart of the Forest. He would find the Beast, and he’d kill it.

After walking for a while, the thick foliage began to even out and soon light was pouring through the treetops, giving its surrounding a soft, almost magical glow. Seeing this himself, Tommy’s heart slowed as he relaxed and found himself enjoying his new found surroundings. What a wonderful place this would be for the villagers to explore when he returned a hero! When he found a wide enough open clearing, only then did he stop. He’d heard hunters say the best place to find creatures or monsters to battle would be to lure them out into a big open space, and create a false sense of security of having their foe in the open, all the while preparing a surprise attack themselves. When he felt he was ready, Tommy raised his hands to cup around his mouth before shouting:

“HEY! BIG UGLY MONSTER!!! HERE I AM! COME FIGHT ME!!!”

He waited a moment, listening intently for the inevitable sound of the monster approaching, but was met with silence. Well that’s okay. They’re probably doing Monster things and are busy. Tommy could wait. He’d be patient if it meant he’d get to make the village proud.

But as the minutes ticked by, Tommy’s calls were all but left unanswered. He didn’t understand. What could a monster possibly be doing that was more important than battling him?

“HELLOOOO! MONSTER?? I’M WAITING FOR YOU TO COME FIGHT ME!” He called again.

Suddenly a crack sounded from behind him, and Tommy whirled around to face the direction of the noise, hands perched on the hilt of his wooden sword prepared to draw it at a moment's notice.

“FINALLY! I’ve been waiting ages for you to show up!” He said in relief before his eyes settled upon a figure.

Before him stood a tall man with curly brown hair in a long worn trench coat. Upon his nose were gold circle framed glasses that highlighted his sharp glimmering amber eyes.

“You’re not a monster.” He stated blankly, as his face crinkled into confusion.

The man gave him a crooked smile. “I’m afraid not.” He said, his voice melodic in a way. “What are you doing in the Forest little one?”

“I’m not a child and I’m here to battle the monster. Isn’t it obvious?” Tommy said huffing, crossing his arms in annoyance. The man looked him up and down before a smirk appeared on their face.

“I’m not sure a wooden sword is going to be very effective then.” they mused. “Unless the monster you plan on battling is a rabbit.”

Tommy gasped in offense.

“You dare underestimate the power of the Great Tommyinnit?”

“Well I’m just not sure it would be very effective on anything else.” The man replied, stepping more into the clearing. Tommy drew his sword and raised it pointed at the annoying man, as he spoke with confidence.

“It’d be pretty effective at beating up a Wrong-un like you.”

The man burst out laughing as he doubled over slightly clutching his middle as he did so.

“What on earth is a wrong-un?”

“People like you thinking amazing people like me are weak. I’ll have you know I’m the strongest man alive d*******.” Tommy squawked in retaliation to the still laughing man as he tried to compose himself.

“Sure sure. You’re definitely the greatest man alive!” The man said as he began to calm down.

“I’m sorry for thinking otherwise.”

“As you should be. No one messes with Tommy and gets away with it.”

Tommy re-sheathed his sword as the man continued. “So why are you in the Forest to battle a supposed monster? I thought no one was allowed in here?”

“If I kill the monster and bring back its head to the village, I’ll be treated as a hero and praised by everyone!” Tommy replied eagerly, striking a heroic pose as he did so.

The strange man's brows furrowed slightly as he looked at Tommy in concern, but Tommy didn’t notice as he continued on. “Then people will like me and I won’t be alone anymore!”

“Did they send you in here?” The man asked.

“Nope! I snuck out here all on my own! I had finished all my chores for the day and I wanted to prove myself!” Tommy said proudly. “Why are you out here though? Wait, are you here to battle the monster too?”

“No, I actually live here.” The man said, raising an arm to scratch the back of his head as he looked away sheepishly.

“You live here???” Tommy replied eagerly, practically bouncing on the balls of his heels. “Have you seen it?”

“Once.” The man began, eyes drifting down to look into the boy's sparkling wide blue eyes. “It’s not safe to be out here, but I’ve lived here a long time and know this area well. The monster does not come to this part of the forest often.”

Tommy’s heart sank. He’d spent so long waiting and the monster barely ever even came to this area? How could he fight them if they never show up? And he couldn’t really journey much further than this either or he would be unable to get back to the Village.

“Oh.” He said flatly, his shoulders deflating at the realization. The man came forward towards Tommy, stopping till he was just in front of him. They towered over the small boy.

“I guess the monster might come back one day..” They sighed. Tommy’s face lit up.

“Really??” he said brightly. “You think so?” The man shrugged his shoulders, giving him a knowing smile.

“Can I keep coming back until it does?” Tommy asked. The man thought for a moment, looking as if they were debating heavily with themself.

“I guess so.” Yes! Success! He still had a chance then. With that answer settled, Tommy gathered himself up and turned to leave.

“I will be back tomorrow then!” He declared proudly, a bright determined smile plastered across his face.

“See you tomorrow then Tommy.” The man said, turning to watch the small boy leave.

“See you tomorrow uh, um. What’s your name?” Tommy asked, embarrassed that he hadn’t asked sooner.

“Wilbur. Wilbur Soot.” The man- Wilbur replied.

“See ya tomorrow Wilbur!”

As promised, Tommy returned to the same clearing upon finishing his chores and waited for the monster to arrive. Just as before he called out for them and waited for them to appear. Nothing. That’s okay. Wilbur said they didn’t come around alot. He could wait. He would slay the monster!

A little while later, Wilbur appeared. Almost a little shocked to see Tommy at all, as if he didn’t expect them to return. But upon seeing the excited young boy, joined him in the clearing to wait.

“Any sign of them?” Wilbur asked.

“Not yet.” Tommy replied, as he scanned the surrounding tree line once more.

“HEY MONSTER! IT’S ME! TOMMYINNIT! COME GET ME!” he yelled once more.

“Ouch. Give a guy a little warning before you do that.” Wilbur yelped, clutching his ears. “I’ve got sensitive ears.”

“Oops. Sorry. I’ll try to remember next time.” Tommy replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

“So how do you plan to beat this monster?” Wilbur asked inquisitively.

“Well when they get here, I’m gonna cuss them out for taking so long! Then I’ll draw my sword and slice them into tiny little pieces!” Tommy stated proudly, drawing his sword and posing dramatically, his weapon held high in the air. Wilbur laughed at the funny sight before him, as Tommy turned around to face him, stomping his foot in annoyance.

“Oi! Quit laughing ya b****!” he said, as he marched over a little way away from the man, stopping next to a tree to sit on the mossy ground.

“So, what's your favourite colour?” Tommy asked, wanting to change the topic.

“Blue. Yours?”

“Red.” They sat in comfortable silence for a bit.

“You got a favourite animal?” Wilbur asked.

“Cows are pretty cool.”

“Cows? Seriously?” Wilburs face contorted into an amused look.

“Hey cows are pretty intelligent alright? What about you? It’s probably something dumb like a squirrel.”

“Mmm no but I like rabbits. They taste pretty good.” Tommy turned to Wilbur and gasped.

“I meant that you like to look at or find interesting! Not to f***** eat!!!”

“What! I’m just being honest.” The man said at least looking a little guilty. “I’ve gotta eat something out here! Besides, it's not like you don’t eat cows!”

Tommy fake gasped. “I would never eat a sweet innocent cow. They’re so endedible and loveable!”

“I bet you’ve eaten beef in the last week.” Wilbur said, giving Tommy a knowing look as he rested his head into his hand, propped up on his knee.

“No…. I definitely didn’t...” Tommy said looking away, face going slightly red as he fiddled with his hands.

“At least I don’t think it was beef…” Wilbur just grinned.

“Alright alright. How about an animal you dislike? Mine’s an Anteater.”

“What’s wrong with Anteaters?” Tommy questioned.

“Oh Tommy. What’s not wrong with Anteaters?”

(\_(\ (\_/) ? (ง•-•)ง ? (•-• ) ? o/ | | \o ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It continued on like this for several days. Tommy would finish his chores around the village, then journey into the forest clearing and call for the monster where he waited. And not long after calling for the monster, would Wilbur appear and help call for the monster too. When they weren’t doing that, most of their time was spent chatting. Well mostly Tommy, with his rambles as he practiced his sword fighting skills, whilst Wilbur watched the wild child wave his treasured wooden sword around. Sometimes he would relax and nap in the warm sun's rays as the child spoke whatever was on their mind. Occasionally, Wilbur would manage to get Tommy to come sit still with him and would hum a melody or sing and a made up song, whilst running a hand through his blonde curls. The man had a soothing voice and it was almost hypnotic in a way. Tommy wished he could listen to it forever.

Days turned to weeks and soon Tommy was spending almost all his time in the Forest, and while he still called for the monster to fight, he found himself going for a different reason. Wilbur. Tommy had become attached to the man. The man had a gentle presence and treated him in a way that not many in the village did. He treated him with kindness, joy, caring and what could almost be affection, from how often the man insisted they hug before he left after coming to know him. But he couldn’t complain when secretly he loved it. Part of him almost wanted to stay with the man and never leave. But that could not be. He had a mission! Kill the monster and return a hero! That was his mission, his quest! But maybe when he did, Wilbur could come too?

He’d asked the man once before about it, his answer being that the village didn’t really like people like him, so he chose to stay away. Tommy wondered if it was because maybe he’d messed up too many times and the villagers had kicked him out? When Tommy made mistakes, he’d get punished pretty badly. Some nights he’d go to sleep covered in bruises and dried blood. But that’s okay! He’d complete his quest and return as a hero and then never be punished again. But if that was the same reason why the village didn’t like Wilbur, he thought that returning a hero with him would perhaps fix all that? Yes! That would definitely fix everything. How could it possibly not?

It was just another normal day for Tommy, as the young boy made his way to the usual clearing. He'd brought a pastry with him today that the nice baker lady had given him, for him helping her bring the flour bag order into the shop. He set his satchel down and cupped his hands around his mouth as he hollered his challenge to surrounding forest foliage.

“HEY MONSTER!!! IT’S TOMMYINNIT! I’M READY TO FIGHT YOU B****!”

He was about to call again when a rustle of leaves from behind him had him turning on his heels.

“Wilbur!” He called cheerily, not expecting the man to appear so soon.

“You’re here ear-ly…” The words died in the boy's throat as his eyes widened to see not Wilbur stepping into the clearing.

Stood before him huffing in a steaming cloud of rage, was a giant black boar with piercing red eyes. Tommy drew his sword, hands tight around the hilt, trembling slightly at the fierce animal before him. He could do this. He’d been waiting for a monster after all. This was just a uh- a warm up! Yeah a very big, scary looking warm up. But as the boar let out a menacing growl, and Tommy’s fear growing by the second, he took a step back. He-he couldn’t do this. Tommy’s hands loosened on the wooden sword, allowing it to drop to the grass floor below him. The boar taking this moment as its time to charge. Tommy sprinted for dear life. What was he thinking? That he could take on what was supposed to be a terrifying man eating monster alone and win? He’d bought a flippen damn wooden stick to a boss fight! And he wasn’t even trying to escape the supposed monster. It was just some ugly Boar!

Tears began to stream down Tommy’s face. He didn’t know what to do. The Boar was quickly gaining on him and he had no idea where he was going. He didn’t have a decent weapon and he was getting tired quickly. So he did the only thing he could think of and screamed.

“WILBUR! WILBUR HELP!!!” He shouted over and over again, in hopes the man was somewhere nearby and would be able to help.

“SOMEONE?! ANYONE?! PLEASE!!!”

Tommy kept running. He could feel the hot breath of the Boar growing on the back of his neck as the sound of hooves got closer and closer. He was managing to dodge his way out of the approaching jaws of the furious animal, but for how much longer?

Tommy’s luck seemed to have run out, as he soon found himself cornered at the bottom of an overhanging cliffside. He scrambled about looking for a way up, someplace to hide, ANYTHING to help him escape his impending doom, but ultimately was left with nothing. The Boar slowed its approach, knowing its prey had finally been caught.

“WILBUR PLEASE!! WHERE ARE YOU?!?” He shrieked in desperation; one last time.

“Please.” he barely whispered as he backed himself up against the cliffside wall, breathing heavily as he braced his arms against the rocky stone walls. He heard the Boar grunting and scraping the ground, a sign it was about to charge and deliver the final blow. He scrunched his eyes firmly shut and braced for the end. He didn’t want to see it coming.

Suddenly something hit the ground with a heavy thud, creating a small shockwave, causing Tommy to be knocked to the ground from the impact. A blood curdling shriek along with terrified squeals were sent into the air, instantly followed by the sound of several loud cracks and hissing. Tommy lifted his head up and wiped his face of dirt from the ground, slightly dazed from the harsh fall. Tommy’s eyes widened in terror. Before him was a giant brown and yellowish scaled tail. His head followed the scales up, anxiety growing of what was to come as he looked on to where the tail turned to the back of a human torso, of a man with curly brown hair atop of their head. Tommy’s heart stopped as realization struck him.

A Naga.

That was his monster.

But before him is Wilbur.

Wilbur was a Naga.

His Monster is Wilbur.

The monster he’d been calling for and patiently waiting all this time to come, had been Wilbur the entire time.

There was no doubt in his mind that now that the secret about Wilburs’ true form was out, would have them turn tail and devour Tommy alive. After all, that must be why he had come. They probably didn’t want their free meal to be snatched up by some other predator. The Naga had known the entire time why Tommy was in the forest. They knew Tommy wanted his head for the glory it would bring, but had indulged in his wild fantasies. They were probably letting him live till they got bored. That made the most logical sense. Besides, everyone always gets fed up with him eventually. It's how he ended up an orphaned street rat in the first place. People just put up with him till they’re sick of him, then make him get lost. It's why this hurt so much more. Because instead of being abandoned, Tommy knew he was going to be devoured.

Slowly, Tommy struggled to his feet. He had to get out of here. He couldn’t die. He had to escape! He just had too! The Naga was still turned away from Tommy, the now dead Boar hanging limply in its grasp. Ever so quietly, Tommy crept along the side of the cliff wall, around the Naga. He couldn’t afford to be seen. He kept his head and shoulders down and tried to blend in with the wall, doing his best effort to be as unnoticeable as possible. He was almost in the clear when he glanced back at the Naga. He froze in place. Tommy watched as a giant fist raised the dead Boar up in the air, as the Naga opened its giant mouth. Sharp fangs glistened in the sun as he watched them drop the entire dead animal in the awaiting maw, only to snap it shut and swallow the entire thing whole. Tommy watched in horror, as the large bulge of the boar traveled down the Nagas throat. A thin pink tongue slithered out of its mouth and licked its lips in satisfaction. Oh Prime, he needed to leave NOW.

But one wrong step was all it took for a twig to snap sharply beneath Tommy’s foot. The sound rang out loudly in his ears. He didn’t need to look down to realize his mistake. Oh so comically slowly, Tommy turned to face the monster. The Naga’s head had snapped to meet his own, its amber eyes nothing but thin slits. However, upon seeing Tommy, their gaze softened.

“Thank Prime you’re okay.” the Naga said, releasing a heavy sigh.

“I was so worried when I heard you calling that I-” They began to say as they turned to move forward.

Tommy bolted.

“WAIT! TOMMY!” The Naga cried as he lunged for him with an outstretched clawed hand, the small boy just narrowly dodging the giant appendage before the Naga crashed into the cliffside missing.

Tommy booked it for the tree line. He needed to get back to the village. He wasn’t going to just wait to be caught and die!! Wilbur had said he lived in the forest and was the monster.

This was their forest.

Its domain .

He wouldn’t be able to hide anywhere and not be found. It wouldn’t matter if he’d had a 100 meter head start, the monster knew where to go, where to look. Prime! It probably even knew what he smelled like and could track him! Tommy’s only hope of survival was to get back within the Village walls. He took every tight, confusing, twisting path he could take, ducking through small gaps that blocked off openings for larger creatures, praying that somehow this would slow the Naga down. Tommy could hear them approach from the sound of leaves crinkling from beneath the weight of the serpent that was giving chase.

“TOMMY, PLEASE! COME BACK! LET ME EXPLAIN!!!” Tommy heard the Naga plea, as he squeezed through the gaps of several fallen trees, stopping the naga effectively as they were too big to follow.

“COME BACK!”

They were so close. But he couldn’t stop. He had to get to the village. Had to get back home. He just had too!

As Tommy ran through another thicket of bushes, he stumbled into a clearing, tripping over something, falling to the ground harshly and scraping his knees against the rough surface. He cursed to himself as he looked over the now slightly bleeding scrape, eyes narrowing on whatever he tripped on.

It was his wooden sword.

He paused as he processed his surroundings; recognition sparking in his head. It was the same clearing he’d first met Wilbur in. It’s a bit ironic? The sword he wanted to use against the big, bad monster used against him. Tommy felt tears bud at the edge of his eyes. It just wasn’t fair. NONE of this was fair. This was the spot he had met his first real friend. The first time he’d had a real connection. The first time he hadn’t been kicked out for being himself. The first time he had felt like someone actually cared, and it was all a lie.

“Tommy? Are you alright? That must have hurt.”

Tommy whipped his head around to see the now human version of the Naga standing behind him. He turned to run again, but he was no match for the Naga’s speed as they shifted form and snaked around him, effectively trapping him within the giant coil walls. He ran to the edge of the coils and tried to climb out, but the end of the snake's tail trailed its way up the boys torso, wrapping itself around his frail form semi tightly and lifted the boy into the air. “Please Tommy. I just want to talk.” The naga said as Tommy began to thrash in attempts to break free. Instinctually, the tail tightened around him, squeezing the air out of his lungs, causing him to cease his thrashing. Oh Prime! He was going to be squeezed to death! His lungs began to burn from lack of air as the pressure on his ribs slowly constricted tighter.

It hurt .

It hurt so much .

He let out a strangled whine of pain.

“F***!” the Naga spoke above him as the tail immediately loosened, releasing its death hold around the boy, as they greedily gasped for air.

“Oh Prime. Oh S***. I'm so sorry!” The world lurched as Tommy was lifted and placed on a rough, warm surface. He blinked his eyes open, trying to focus on his surroundings between black splotches from the lack of air.

Oh.

He was in it’s hand wasn’t he?

“S***! Tommy! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to squeeze you like that!!! Are you alright?” concern lacing the giant's voice.

Now didn’t that just make Tommy’s heart ache. The jig was up! He knew what Wilbur was. This sick game or whatever it was was over. He had literally just tried to squeeze him to death. Why were they still pretending to care?

“Tommy? Please talk to me!”

“Don’t eat me!” Tommy pleaded, tears freely dripping down his face.

“Eat you?” the Naga breathed, taken aback.

“I don’t want to die!” Tommy cried, as he curled in tighter on himself. He didn't want to see the hungry look of the predator.

The Nags’s eyes widened in disbelief as a gasp escaped him.

“Tommy! I’m not going to eat you! How could you think such a thing?”

“Because you will! You almost squeezed me to death just then!” Tommy wailed as he began to tremble.

They glanced away. At least they had the decency to look guilty.

“That was an accident. I didn’t mean to and I’m so sorry I did!” he paused. “But I saved you from the Boar. Why would I want to eat you if I did that?”

“Because you lied.” Tommy whispered, the Naga taken aback; hurt by the statement.

“Please… I just- I can’t- I don’t want to die Wilby.”

Why did Wilbur have to keep delaying the inevitable? Why did it have to be the first person he’d come to love like that was to be his demise? Why had he been so foolish in believing he could succeed in defeating a monster like him? In a way he’s lucky he hadn’t been devoured sooner. He’d practically been dancing with death every day for weeks. It's not like anyone would even care if he disappeared. No one had cared when he’d disappeared for hours at a time as it was. No one liked him. No one truly cared for him. No one loved him.

“Tommy, sunshine. Look at me.” The Naga asked softly. Tommy lifted his head slightly as he sniffled more wet tears into his knees.

“Tommy. I’m not going to eat you. You mean so much to me. I could never imagine hurting you on purpose.”

What?

“Sometimes, my instincts get the better of me. I didn’t mean to squeeze you like that, I swear.” The Naga spoke gently.

“I came to save you from the Boar because you needed help. Not because I was afraid he’d eat you before me or anything like that that you might be thinking, but because I was terrified I’d lose you.”

Tommy’s whole body stiffened.

He thought he was going to lose him?

“Yes Tommy, you.” They chuckled almost as if he read the blonde's mind.

“When humans enter my forest, I usually just leave them alone because I know they're afraid of me. But that day you came into the forest, I couldn’t help myself. I’d been alone for so long, and you seemed so determined to battle a monster, I couldn’t help but be intrigued by you.”

Tommy uncurled himself to get a better look at the Naga, them taking it as a cue to continue.

“And when you found out it wasn’t around, I didn’t want to ruin that precious smile across your face. So I lied about the monster.“

He had lied because he would have been upset about no monster?

“I didn’t think you’d come back in all honesty. But when I heard you calling for me the next day and you kept coming back, I couldn’t stay away.” Wilbur lifted his hand up to his face so that Tommy was now at eye level.

“I care about you Tommy.

Tommy lifted his head fully, eyes wide looking at the Naga.

“Really?” voice wobbly, he asked.

“Really.”

Tommy’s breath hitched in his throat, eyes scanning the Naga’s face looking for any sign of they were lying.

But all he saw was the man he had come to love. Despite everything, despite them being a Giant Naga, a Monster: It was still Wilbur. Still his friend.

Tommy let his tears pour as Wilbur began to gently stroke his back up and down with his thumb in reassurance. He was okay. They were okay.

__ /) /) (\ (\ | ♡ > ( ›.‹) (⋅.⋅ ) o( づ♡ ⊂)o ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy continued to visit Wilbur even after the incident. The two became closer despite the truth coming out, and they couldn't be happier. Wilbur could be honest about his true self, and Tommy had someone he could depend on. Tommy would still call for the Naga though. While he knew that he didn’t need to (since Wilbur revealed he knew when Tommy entered the forest everytime by his scent and how he walked from his crazy good hearing) he still did it as a sort of tradition. It felt wrong not too.

Although, some of his calls were a little less than polite…

“HEY B****! I’M HERE!!” The 12 year old hollered for the snake.

“Where the heck did you even learn to curse like that?” Wilbur laughed as he slithered into their clearing.

Wilbur didn’t shift to his human form a whole lot anymore either. There was no real need too now that Tommy knew. He would occasionally at Tommy’s request, but the boy rather liked the Naga at his giant size. He’d crawl all over the man’s coils and slid down his tail like a slide. Sometimes he’d laze about in Wilbur’s fluffy hair and ramble on while the Naga lazily dozed in the sun listening. Other time’s when Wilbur was being clingy from instincts, he’d hold Tommy in his hands close to his chest. Tommy would complain, scratch and bite for him to let go, before eventually submitting to hand cuddles in defeat. He’d never actually admit that he loved them though. It’s not like it made him feel completely safe surrounded in the comforting warmth of his hands or anything. Nope! Not big Man Tommy liking some silly hand hugs. Nuh uh. Not him!

“So what are we doing today Sunshine?” Wilbur asked, as he lowered a hand for Tommy to step onto.

“Something awesome.” Tommy grinned mischievously as he stepped on and was lifted to sit on the Naga’s shoulder.

“Awesome or hey-OW! TOMMY!” Squawked Wilbur, as the boy launched himself off of his palm, grabbing onto one of the longer curls of his fringe, tugging it down as Tommy swung around wildly.

“Let go, you Gremlin.”

“NEVER!”

“You are such a little menace.”

“Little??? I’ll have you know I’m the biggest man alive!” The boy pouted, as giant fingers gently pulled him away from the man’s face, dangling him in the air briefly before placing him back on the ground. “Yes, I’m aware Tommy. You’ve said so many times.”

“So you’ll let me back up on your shoulder then?”

“Ha! No.”

It was moments like these that really made Tommy want to stay with the giant snake and never return. But despite the bond he and Wilbur had formed, Tommy couldn’t stay with Wilbur forever. He understood why he couldn’t, but he wanted to stay. Wilbur had told Tommy how much he cared for him and he knew that he did, but despite this, Wilbur still made him go home. The forest wasn’t safe for him even with the Naga’s presence, which was made very clear by the boar attack, and Wilbur voiced that he should stay with people of his own kind, within the Village walls where it was safer. He was still so young and he needed the care human’s provided him. Tommy of course had yet to tell Wilbur that he slept in an alleyway alone and all, but that’s okay. He didn't need to worry him like that. What could the Naga do about it anyways?

Although while he couldn’t stay, Tommy would be in the Forest every chance he could! The villagers, of course, now seemed to take notice of their dear little street rats’ disappearance. They didn’t like how their source of free labor was suddenly not around so much. Didn’t like how they suddenly didn’t have a personal punching bag for when they were upset. Concerned their little orphan wasn’t around to control anymore. So of course, they started to ‘inquire’ about it.

“Where are you off to?” The Fletcher asked him one day, as Tommy was leaving after helping sharpen the flint for the arrow heads. “Just going to practice my sword skills.” He replied simply as he turned and walked off.

“Disappearing to the West End District again rat?” The Butcher provoked. Tommy tried not to pull a face as he walked passed.

He hated that name. “What are you doing down there? Don’t you know what lurks beyond the walls?” “I like that it's quiet sir. Good place to practice my sword skills.” Tommy yelped in surprise, as he was suddenly grabbed by his shoulder. Pointed fingernails dug into his skin, as he was twisted around to meet the Butcher's face and a sharp cleaver poised dangerously close to his neck. “Make sure you stay within the walls, Rat.” Tommy’s eye’s darted from the Butchers knife to their piercing gaze. “When people go into that Forest, they don’t come out. Would hate for something to happen to you.” With a sharp blow to his back, Tommy stumbled forward out of the man’s grip and sprinted for the West End Gate, desperate to get away. He ran all the way to the gap in the wall and crawled through.

He didn’t tell Wilbur why he had run to the clearing that day or what had happened to cause the now-forming bruise between his shoulder blades. Simply lying instead about how a heavy book had fallen off a shelf that morning when he helped the Librarian. Wilbur had given him a concerned look before Tommy changed the subject to talk about cows. Tommy hoped that the odd interaction from the Fletcher and Butcher was a one time thing.

But it continued to happen.

Everyday, a different member of the village would question him about where he was going and why. Some would get a little aggressive like how the Butcher had, but he managed to get away with just a mild bruise or graze. He tried to cover them up best he could before visiting Wilbur. The Naga was beginning to get increasingly worried about how many injuries Tommy was showing up with. “Tommy, are you sure you’re alright?” They had asked him one day, when he’d appeared with a poorly wrapped cut across his forearm (a cut he’d unfortunately been unable to avoid from the Cartographers drawing compass).

“Yeah I’m fine Big Dubs. Just got a little reckless with some of the other kids in the village playing swords.” Wilbur raised a brow. “Just, promise me to try and stay out of trouble Toms? I don’t want to keep seeing you show up covered in fresh injuries.” “I promise.” Tommy promised nervously. He hated that he had to lie about this to Wilbur, but it wasn’t worth worrying them over a little scratch.

~~~

It only seemed to grow worse for Tommy as time went on. He’s not 100% sure, but he swore that he’d seen someone following him. Whenever he started to approach the West End District, it felt like holes were being burned into the back of his head. He had started to take back route alley ways to the gap in the wall after that, trying to avoid whatever had been tailing him. But you can only avoid certain things for so long.

“Haven’t seen you around all that much lately, rat.” The Blacksmith stated, when Tommy was unloading a metal order for him one morning. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing of importance sir.” Tommy replied as he kept his eyes trained down. He knew not to establish eye contact. He’d had too many slaps to the face recently to forget that. “Just keeping to myself till needed.”

“Hmpf. I know you’re up to something rat.” The Blacksmith said, stepping closer to the boy. “We know you’re sneaking off through the West End Gate.”

Tommy’s neck bristled, as a shiver ran down his spine. So he’d been right.

Someone had been watching.

“No sir. I would never do that.”

“DON’T LIE TO ME RAT!” The Blacksmith yelled, grabbing Tommy by the collar and yanking him into the air.

“WHY ARE YOU GOING INTO THE FOREST? WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?”

Tommy grabbed uselessly at the back of his shirt in hopes of getting free, as the Blacksmith held him high dangled in the air.

He couldn’t tell them about Wilbur! If they knew he’d been going in there to see him, they’d go after him! They would hurt him!

“NOTHING SIR!” He cried desperately.

“LIES! NO ONE THAT GOES IN THAT FOREST COMES OUT! HOW IS IT THAT YOU, A USELESS CHILD HAS!?”

The Blacksmith flipped him around and threw him harshly to the ground and into one of the furnaces. Tommy jerked his arm back, hissing in pain as it came into contact with part of the hot metal, the skin on his arm immediately turning an angry red. The Blacksmith trudged forward, pressing a heavy boot onto his frail chest.

“I’ll ask you again. Why are you going in the Forest?” They threatened, venom seeping into every word.

“I’m not sir! I know not to go in! I never do!” Tommy wailed, as tears streamed down his face.

“Fine. Be that way.” they hissed, stepping off his chest.

“We’ll get the truth out of you eventually.” They raised their leg back before kicking him harshly in the stomach winding Tommy, before swiftly walking away.

Tommy didn’t visit Wilbur that day.

Or the next.

For 3 days he stayed huddled up, hiding in the shadows. He was in so much pain that he couldn’t even bring himself to move, let alone leave his little shelter in the alleyway .

But even after he felt fit enough to move again, he didn’t return to the Forest. He was too ashamed of what Wilbur would say if he saw him covered head to toe in bruises and fresh wounds. He’d be so disappointed in him if he did. He was supposed to be looking after himself and staying out of trouble. Being good, and making Wilbur proud. Instead, he’d had to spend the afternoon trying to find a shirt with long sleeves that he could use to cover his arms, and hide the would be scars from the Naga, only managing to find a slightly too small red sleeved shirt that was in semi okay condition.

He was such a disappointment.

~~~

The next morning, Tommy helped the farmer. He didn’t want to go back to the Blacksmith. His arm was wrapped loosely in a makeshift bandage beneath his new shirt and it hurt like hell. He was still finding it slightly difficult to breathe, but the villagers had work for him to do and they wouldn’t take kindly to his ‘excuses’. Especially after vanishing for a few days…

The Farmer wanted him to harvest some of the carrots today. Normally, he’d be allowed to take a few of them when he’d finished the job, but today the Farmer had come as he was finishing up and was holding the small pile of carrots Tommy had set aside for himself in their grasp.

“I hear the Blacksmith had a chat with you the other day.”

Tommy stiffened.

“Yes-yes sir.” He stuttered.

“We don't take too kindly to liars boy.” The farmer threatened. “So make this simple for both of us and tell the truth.” “But I’m n-not going in, sir. There’s n-nothing in the Forest!” He stuttered, taking another step back.

“WE KNOW THAT’S NOT TRUE! WE’VE SEEN YOU SNEAKING THROUGH THE GAP IN THE WALL!” The farmer accused stepping forward, raising their pitch fork up. “YOU EVEN DISAPPEARED AFTER SEVERAL DAYS AND TURN UP ACTING AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED!! TELL THE TRUTH! HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?”

“But-but I-I didn’t go in!!!” Tommy stammered, his voice wavering as he spoke. “I was in my alley trying to rest from my injuries!”

“B*******! You expect me to believe that?” They spat. “Even if you were, that doesn’t explain why you’ve been going in!!!”

“There’s no rules that say I can’t go in! I’m just going there to practice my sword skills with a friend.”

“A friend?” The farmer asked incredulously. “Who on earth would be spending their time with a ratty orphan street kid like you? Stop making things up and tell the truth.”

“BUT IT IS THE TRUTH! ” Tommy pleaded in desperation. “WE JUST HANG OUT AND TALK!”

“B***S***! JUST TELL THE TRUTH!”

Tommy pushed himself up off the ground and away from the Farmer as they made a move to grab him, and high tailed it for the West End Gate. He couldn’t take this anymore. He had to get out of the Village NOW. He had to leave. Had to get out!

Even if Wilbur wouldn’t take him in, he had to get out of there. It wasn’t safe.

He ran through the streets, the sounds of angry villagers emerging from their homes to come after him and bring him back, trailed after him, growing in volume. He knew what they wanted him for. They didn’t love him. They didn’t actually care. They just wanted to have control over him. He hadn’t realized it at first, but after meeting Wilbur, he’d begun to recognise the choke hold they held over him. Making him work for approval. Making him work to prove his worth when it would never be enough. Using fake praise followed by belittling comments to control his feeble mind. He had thought that if he came back a hero, they would finally actually want him, accept him for him; not just claim that they ‘cared’.

Wilbur had shown him what being cared for truly looked like. And he’d take that over the s*** the village dished out any day.

He ran and ran till he reached the gap in the wall but skidded to a halt when he realized what the villagers had done.

They’d sealed the gap.

He pounded on the freshly dried layer of concrete sealing the gap over, desperate to break through before eventually giving up. He turned and sprinted for the West End Gate exit and tried to break the chains once more on the operating point.

But it was futile. The Chains remained locked tight, and despite the little bit of muscle he’d built up by practicing with Wilbur, he still lacked the physical strength to even leave a dent in the chains.

The sounds of angry villagers continued to grow louder as they approached and soon Tommy was surrounded on all sides.

“Awwww. The little rat wants to go into the Forest.” One woman snickered.

“Don’t you know you belong to us!” Another spat.

Tommy turned and ran to the iron gates and began to climb his way up. If he could make it over, he’d risk the broken bones the fall down would cause. “Where do you think you’re going?” The Weaponsmith snapped, grabbing Tommy’s ankle, yanking him back down to the ground.

He tried to climb up again reaching for the iron gates but was torn away with a yelp.

“Uh uh uh. You ain’t going nowhere. Not until you tell us why you’ve been going into the Forest.”

“LET ME GO A******!” Tommy shrieked as he struggled to get out of the Weaponsmith’s hold.

“Oh we’ll let you go alright. Right after you tell us the Truth. No one goes into that Forest and comes out alive. We’ll find out what you’re hiding: even if we have to break you.”

“SOMEONE PLEASE! HELP!!! ANYONE!!!” Tommy thrashed about, desperate to break free. He felt helpless. No one in this damned village would help him no matter how much he pleaded. He didn’t understand why the villagers were treating him this way. They had never cared about him before, but now that he had entered and emerged from the Forest unscathed they cared? What the F*** was wrong with them???

“LET ME GO!!” He screeched in vain, as he was dragged along.

Why won’t anyone help me? He didn’t deserve this. He just wanted- he just wanted…

“WILBUR!” Tommy screamed out of desperation. “WILBUR PLEASE!!! HELP ME!!!”

He knew the Naga wouldn’t be able to hear him, but he wanted his brother. Even if Wilbur didn’t feel the same, he wanted to be swept up in the giant’s gentle hands. He wanted to be held close to their comforting chest. He wanted to hear Wil’s rhythmic heartbeat and soothing voice. He wanted to feel Wilbur’s fingers card through his hair, as he whispered sweet nothings.

He wanted to be with Wilbur.

He wanted to be loved.

“WILBUR! PLEASE!!!”

“Your imaginary friend is going to come save you rat.” The Weaponsmith mocked.

“You belong to us and we will do to you what we see fitting-” The words died in their throat as a thud was heard from behind. A flurry of hushes were sent amongst the crowd, as all turned to face the West End Gate. They watched in anticipation as another loud thud hit the gate’s door causing it to creak, as dust floated down from the upper walls like snow.

Something was trying to break in.

“Oh Prime.” the Weaponsmith whispered, as the sound of hissing began to fill the air.

“Go-go, GO! GO NOW!”

The villagers began to disperse into panic, as the thudding increased and the Gate began to cave in on itself, whatever beyond the entrance desperately trying to break in.

“YOU!”

Tommy tried to fight against the Weaponsmiths hold as they pulled him to their face.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

But before he could answer, the Gates flew open, debris flying everywhere. Tommy tried to shield himself best he could, as bits of concrete were flung in his direction. The crowd went deathly silent.

Standing tall menacingly within the rubble, was Wilbur; hissing threateningly.

“Where is he?” The Naga demanded.

“Wilbur. WILBUR!”

“Shut up.” Weaponsmith hissed as they shoved Tommy away from the direction of Wilbur.

“WIL! I’M HERE! I’M MPHF” Tommy tried to call, but a piece of fabric was stuffed into his mouth, muffling his cries.

But the Naga heard it all the same.

“TOMMY! I’M HERE!” Wilbur yelled, as worried amber eyes searched the crowd.

The Naga’s eyes locked onto Tommy’s form, a warning hiss filling the air.

“Give him to me now, and I’ll spare you.”

“Never.” The Farmer spat.

“Have it your way.”

Wilbur slithered forward, not caring for who or what was in their way. The villagers scattered beneath him, screaming in fear to avoid the giant snake's tail, some not being so lucky. Wilbur’s eye’s turned to slits, as they let instinct drive them forward. The Naga bared their fangs and hissed in warning as they approached closer. The Weaponsmith trembled as Wilbur raised his torso up, poising themself to strike. Fear had the Weaponsmith turn tail and run, as they hurled Tommy forward trying to put as much distance between him and the boy. Tommy stumbled forward, Wilbur shooting his hand out beneath him to catch him. The Naga’s eyes dilated as they brought Tommy up to their face, eyes searching every inch of the boy. Their frown deepened at the sight of every new bloodied spot, as Wilbur removed the makeshift gag.

“What did they do to you?” Wilbur whispered, voice tight as he gently ran a finger over Tommy’s forehead, brushing the hair out his eyes.

“Wil. I, I-I’m so sorry.” Tommy whimpered.

“Shh shhh. It’s alright Sunshine. I’ve got you.”

Tommy felt himself being moved as Wilbur began to slither away. He kept the boy close as they moved through the Village and back to the Forest, Tommy clutching onto Wilbur’s giant fingers tightly the whole way.

“I was so worried about you Toms. When you stopped coming, I thought something horrible had happened to you.” Wilbur said, as he stopped to rest in their familiar clearing.

“I’m sorry.” Tommy whimpered softly. “I tried to stay out of trouble like you wanted! Really! I did! But the villagers were so convinced that I was doing something wrong in the Forest because I came back! I didn’t do anything wrong Wil! I swear I didn’t!”

“Oh Tommy sweetheart I know. I never should have sent you back. I thought that it would be better if you remained with your own kind. I thought humans looked after their young. But they hurt you. They hurt my Little Brother.”

Tommy’s whole body stiffened.

Little Brother?

“Yes, Little Brother Tommy.” They chuckled, as if he read the blonde's mind.

“Every time you went to leave, I didn’t want to let you go. I just wanted you to stay with me. It was so hard to not just reach out and pull you back into my arms.”

“I thought you didn’t want me.” Tommy sniffled as he looked up at the Naga in disbelief.

“Oh Tommy! How could I not want you?” I love everything about you! Your smile, your laugh, your personality, EVERYTHING. I want you to come home with me. I want to hold you close, protect you and never let go. I want you to be my little brother.”

Tommy could feel tears budding at the edge of his eyes.

“I love you Tommy.”

And Tommy? He broke. Sobs ripped from his throat as he threw himself at the Giant Nagas nose as Wilbur brought his hand up to hug him back in an awkward way.

He Loved him.

Wilbur actually loved him. Finally, someone really loved him!

“I-I love you too Wilby!” Tommy wept, clinging to the giant's nose. “I love you so so much Wilbur. You’re my big brother! No one has ever cared about me like you do!”

They stayed like that for a while before Wilbur pulled Tommy back from his face, tears threatening to fall from the giant's eyes as a fond smile grew wider across the Naga's face.

“Let’s go home.”

/)/) (\(\ ( . .) (. . ) o( づ 💗⊂ )o ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the forest by the West end Gate, Journeyed a boy, led in by fate.

A monster they went a looking for. A monster he found, but was not so sure.

Some say the monster took them to eat, Other’s say the boy still searches to beat.

A once monster, fabled in fear, But not to this boy, who holds them most dear.

For while glory they went, a looking for, Instead they found something worth much more.

Within his forest home, the boy now sleeps, With their monster brother, safe he keeps. There they stay loved, never a part. The boy who claimed the monster's heart. ❤️❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! I KNOW SO MANY WORDS BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

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