#only to find him conked out in the dryer

[0vergrowngraveyard]

imagine you went to move your sheets out of the dryer (you were being responsible for once in your life) except your babyified brother got to them first and decided it's now nap time

[one-winged-dreams]

all of the day to day f/o asks for knull, because, i think they would be very funny to answer. :)c

@flatstarcarcosa

REEEESE, I'M GONNA CRY 😭

The comedic potential here is too good.

For the funny to take full effect, let all who read this know this is a symbiote god that lives in my chemical makeup and can only manifest himself through my symbiote which he does not often do because it’s too much effort so all of this is just coming from inside my head. Enjoy.

How do you and your f/o usually sleep? Do you like to cuddle and hold each other, or do you need your space? 

I don't. I lay there staring into oblivion until he taunts me and then makes me conk out by messing with my histamine receptors.

Is your f/o more of a tidy or a messy person? What about you? Also, do the two of you sometimes get into arguments because of the household chores?

“What is this? Why do you keep all your clothes on a chair? Why is there so much cat hair and so many candles and... ashes???” “They’re incense ashes, I accidentally flung the tray again.” “kermitinternalscreaming.gif”

He only knows what a standard human dwelling is supposed to look like by proxy, but he is still painfully aware that my living space is chaotic as FUCK.

“I’ll clean it later.” “No. You absolutely will not. This is a time told tradition.” “Do YOU want to fix my mental illness that renders me incapable of functioning?” “I thought you’d never ask.” “NO WAIT-!”

Who usually does the laundry?

Knull: -looks at the dryer and remembers the time eddie threw him into a furnace-

Do you and your f/o sometimes have breakfast in bed? If so how often? Also, who´s more likely to make the other breakfast in bed?

He does not give a flying fuck what I eat or where I eat it. I don’t eat in bed by principle, though.

What´s about random affection? Does your f/o often hug or kiss you randomly and vice versa? Also, how often do you cuddle?

Random words of praise, mostly. That’s really all he can do without manifesting through the symbiote. Which, again, he doesn’t like to do. He mostly does it when I’ll be flustered in public because he thinks it’s funny.

When watching tv together, who´s more likely to talk the whole time while the other tries to focus on the movie/show?

He usually doesn’t pay attention, it’s just me and Howl watching and sometimes making stupid commentary. Occasionally we’ll get the shit scared out of us with a random “I don’t get it”.

How good is your f/o at fixing things? Are they the kind of person who tries to fix everything themself, or do they prefer to call someone to do the job whenever something in their home is broken?

If something gets broken, the only thing that happens is me stress-crying about it because I don’t know how I’m gonna afford to get it fixed. I am utterly helpless because I have the technical know-how of a sea slug. And what the fuck is he gonna do? Ride the emotional rollercoaster is what.

Does your f/o tend to be forgetful? Are they one of these people who always forget where they put their keys, their phone etc.? And if so, how often do you have to help them search?

Absolutely not, it’s me that has an actual 3 second memory. He COULD remind me, but he’s like “You SAID not to meddle with your personal life so :T”, and then Howl has to be like “OH FOR THE LOVE OF- KEYS! COUCH!”

How does grocery shopping with them go? Do they like to look at everything and maybe end up buying a lot of unnecessary things, while forgetting the things they originally planned to buy, or are they well organized and only buy the things that are actually on the shopping list?

I am an in and out shopper, I fucking hate grocery stores. So does he. He actually DOES remind me of what I came for because it’ll get us home quicker. He also gives me snide remarks when I eyeball things I shouldn’t buy.

Does your f/o have any habits that you find annoying? If so, how do you handle it?

As if ONE symbiote didn’t make me more prone to violence on top of the violent impulses from being bipolar, he’s SUCH an instigator. He’s like an anti-reasoner in which he’ll try to pick apart my resolve by telling me WHY I should be violent. One can only practice so much mindfulness to keep themselves from mauling the next person on a scooter rolling down the sidewalk. 

A habit of them that you find adorable?

Little symbiote-isms like the sounds he makes and the way he communicates with Howl. It’s so fucking neat to listen to/feel because it’s just so alien. 

Do the two of you like to play games together? If so, what kind of games? And who wins most of the time? Also, how do both of you handle it if you lose?

Me: -playing ANY video game- Knull: Your hand-eye coordination is TERRIBLE.  Knull: You have an EXTREME case of cognitive-defici- Me: I KNOW!!!!

[pumpkin-stars]

Fresh sheets at home after a long time away for the pedro boys

‘You’ are in some of these, but not all. There’s fourteen of them... blimey I’ve watched a lot of his stuff oops. Suggestive content is marked with a *

Masterlist

Din Djarin

He doesn’t really have sheets. The little mattress in the tiny bunk and an old blanket have served him well for years. But returning to the Crest with a bounty in hand always brings a little sigh of relief (often mistaken for frustration when his quarry inevitably tries to make a final getaway). It’s the promise of removing his helmet that’s most comforting. The kid conked out on the way home, so as soon as he gets into hyperspace, the bucket comes off. He rests his head on a pillow, gets to lie comfortably, relax for the first time since he stepped off the ship.

Javier Peña

He knows he should make his bed more often, but for the amount of time he spends in the shitty agency-provided apartment he doesn’t always see the point. Passing out half-drunk on the couch is far more common than making it to the bed. He’s gonna have to buy Connie a present for this, though. He and Steve have been on a steak out for three days and in that time the wonderful Mrs Murphy has used the spare key to tidy up a little, make his bed for him. It’s a helluva lot more comfortable than his lumpy couch, and, despite the frustration at almost being shot (again) and not getting the information they wanted (again), the soft sheets allow him to relax, he can forget - if just for the moment - the stresses of the job.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales

His sheets hadn’t been clean when he left... Laundry day was Wednesday, after all. Three days, Santi had said... and it ended up being over a week. When he’d finally made it through the door, you were there, Maria burbling in your arms, and he’d almost broken down at the sight of you both - the two good things he had left... Santi texted me, you told him, get some rest. It was Monday. But there were clean sheets. You knew how to take care of him, exactly what he needed. The scent of cotton and patchouli (only recognisable ‘cause he’d read the detergent bottle one time) surrounded him as he buried his face in the pillow. It didn’t take long for you to join him, letting him be the little spoon as he told you about the latest shitty circumstances he’d ended up in, tears marring the clean pillow before he drifts off to sleep in your arms.

Pero Tovar*

He didn’t have a home for the longest time, part of him still debated it sometimes, but he found himself returning to the same little village year after year. To the same little house on the outskirts. To you. Home wasn’t a place to Pero, it was a person. Fresh sheets were the last thing on his mind as he dismounted his horse and strode to the doorway, hands already unbuckling his belt. You always seemed to know when he’d be home - and he hated to think he was so predictable, but he always said there was something mágica about you, his corazón, his alma. The bathtub was already full, your smile already directed to the doorway. The sheets weren’t clean today, there was no point - once he was finished they would be soiled with sweat and sweetness, a night of reunion and passion. His first job in the morning would be to help you take them, and his armour, to the river, and his second night home would be spent relaxing in the arms of his amor, freshly washed cotton beneath him.

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels*

Things go one of two ways when he comes home to you. The stress that comes with saving the world either exhausts him so much that he’s out for the count as soon as his head hits the pillow, or riles him up so much that he needs to expel the excess adrenaline. Having clean sheets under his back as you bounce above him is always a welcome experience, and that firm mattress does wonders for his other aching bones.

Ezra

Life on the green is not for the faint of heart, and the sight of his sleeping bag is always a welcome one after a long day hunched over his work. Today has not been one of his best, still getting used to operating with a single arm, more gems destroyed than properly harvested. Swapping the sleeping bags is a good idea, the clean(er) one has been airing in the corner of the tent for a week or so, and while nothing on the green is especially fresh, it’s the best he can do. It’s the most comfort a weary and worn prospector can get without any company to rub the knots from his back.

Max Phillips*

Romania was fun, those blood filled orgies were the clear highlight of his year, but there’s just something about coming home to his apartment in the city that makes that the best part of the trip. The warm body beside him, the thrum of blood pumping, and the soft rhythm of your heartbeat filling his head after a week of nothing but other cold bodied vamps... (you’d have been invited, for sure, but the chance of you becoming an appetiser was too great to risk). Unlike other years, he’d stuck to the sidelines of the orgy, content to watch and leer at the more enthusiastic participants. It’s just porn, babe. Not cheating. You’d, surprisingly, been okay with that, but it’s not like he’d have put up with you for so long if you hadn’t been equally vulgar. The red satin sheets surround you both, and he lies back, listening to the sounds of your body, heatbeat settling down as you come down from the high. As fun as the orgies are, the sheets are always kinda scratchy, and these ones are the softest he’s ever had. Company’s not bad either.

Marcus Pike

International Art Crimes was a great division to work in, and he enjoyed the work. He just hated when it took him away from you. Three weeks, he’d been in London. Three weeks counting the days until he could go back to DC. But he was home now, and you were cuddled up to his side on the couch, head on his shoulder. Cliche, but, he honestly felt like you fit there perfectly. Contentment- the overwhelming feeling of the evening. It wrapped around him like a blanket, relaxed him even more than the jet lag. He knew there were clean sheets on the bed, but you were both comfortable here. They’d still be clean tomorrow.

Oberyn Martell*

His sheets are never clean. He’d told the palace staff not to bother trying to keep them so. Within minutes of them being changed, at least one of his lovers would soil them. So, when he returns from a trip to the savage north, it’s no surprise that he enters his chambers to find both of them amidst the silk and the pillows. A fine welcome fit for a prince.

Dave York

His schedule gets a little messy when he’s on a job. He tries not to be gone too long, but sometimes things get fucked up and he’s delayed. When he comes home to clean sheets it’s a pleasant surprise - like a final disconnect between his life as a mercenary and his life as a father. His three showers between finishing a job and walking through the door are enough, but clean sheets really help him shut off the sounds of his targets’ dying by his hand.

Marcus Moreno

He’s not away from home very often anymore - he doesn’t go on missions, he doesn’t have to leave the city unless there’s a multi-agency conference somewhere else. But when he does come home, the last thing on his mind is clean sheets. Though it is nice to be enveloped in their warmth. He knows he’ll wake up extra toasty, Missy crawling under the covers to join him at some point in the night - she’s getting a little old for it now, but he doesn’t mind, she just wants the assurance that he’s okay.

Maxwell Lord

Max is used to taking care of himself, of working hard for anything and everything he has. So coming home after a disappointing visit to one of Blacc Gold’s oil wells...  to find that you’ve cleaned the house, that Alastair is tucked up in bed, that you’ve made him dinner... To know that you’ve made his bed, given him fresh sheets to sink into... done something for him without expecting anything in return? There’s a lump in his throat. An even greater determination to give you both the life you deserve.

Zach Wellison

Sheets? A home? This guy’s just grateful to have somewhere warm and sheltered to sleep. He’s lucky, he’s so so lucky... and you? You’re wonderful. Amazing. Fantastic... He’s only been gone for a day, and he’d missed the warmth of you against him more than he’d missed anything else in his life. He can sleep anywhere, and while the lumpy motel bed wasn’t great, it wasn’t a park bench or a doorway during a storm. The sheets were still warm when he got home, you’d timed it perfectly - Zach was always on schedule, that military instinct still sharp as ever, and it made it easy to ensure the bedding was fresh from the dryer and put on the bed just minutes before he walked through the door. Dinner can wait, having a nap under warm covers with you in his arms is far more important.

Omar Assarian

The once cocky, almost-world-middleweight-champion had lost another match. It wasn’t surprising, really. His heart hadn’t been in it since that first incredibly public loss. But it’s not like he knew what else to do with his life! Coming home to the only person besides his Ma who could put up with his shit was good though. Distracting. It’s easy to forget the swirling thoughts at the sight of your smile. Fresh sheets had become part of his post-fight routine, last on the list, right behind getting food, being patched up, getting the residual adrenaline out of his system, and taking a shower (with you). He doesn’t need the sheets to be fresh, really... Not when he uses you as a pillow, strong arms wrapped tight around your torso, keeping himself grounded, distracted from the ever growing doubts that boxing is what he wants to do for the rest of his life.

[deltas-writing-corner]

Courtship: Respect

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Warnings:  Mentions and depictions of smoking/tobacco usage

Next chapter | AO3 version

Slight revisions and full version posted on: 5/4/2021

The alarm clock on your phone is loud and annoying, but it’s the only sound that will wake you up without fail so you can get a head start on your more demanding days, like today.

Groggy and neck a bit strained, a sign that you’ve slept on it wrong, you carefully push yourself up and off your bed. You come across your first hurdle of the day. A few wolf cubs had settled on your chest and your sides during the night. You try carefully to move them off of you and to the side of their mother, who has settled near your feet and isn’t afraid to growl or snap her jaw should you even think of shifting or moving away from her. Unfortunately, the pups seem determined to stick by your side despite your efforts. Luckily the pack’s alpha, Gunter, is settled right behind your head and acted as your pillow for the night. He must be why your neck feels stiff as hell.

You reach back and start petting behind his ear, rubbing into the bunch of dotted scars beneath his coarse hair. You feel his body stretch and shake as he wakes up as well. A small whine comes out of him as he gives out an enormous yawn. It makes you yawn as well.

“Ready to start the day?” you whisper to him.

He huffs with a bit of attitude as if to say, “Not really, but what choice do I have?”

You redirect his attention to his pups, preventing you from sitting up without disturbing everyone else. With silent understanding, he removes himself from underneath your head and carefully steps over one of his brothers, who has graciously allowed you to use him as an armrest somewhere during the night. After another good morning stretch, Gunter begins the slow and steady process of picking the pups up from the scruffs off their necks and setting them elsewhere on your bed.

While he does this, you grab your phone and do a quick sweep of all your notifications. You have a few emails, one a weekly newsletter about current and future school events, most of it spam. You have a couple of dozen messages from Ace and Deuce detailing an argument over whether the former ate the latter’s piece of strawberry shortcake they were saving for after dinner. Apparently, they thought to ask you to be their mediator since it was clear they weren’t going anywhere arguing and pointing fingers back and forth at each other.

Unfortunately for them, they messaged you right after you conked out. You were exhausted yesterday, having to deal with an especially rambunctious and mischievous Grim. You were also scrambling to gather the reading materials needed for one of your classes before the other students can snag them. The most recent and urgent incident is figuring out what to do now that the only generator that powers up all of Ramshackle is going out or outright failing to even start up at all. You also have a decently sized garden to tend to, and the next large harvest is today. Once everything has been properly collected, washed, and either stored away in your pantry or given to Sam so he can sell and make a profit on your behalf and his own (it’s a 60/40 split and you had to fight tooth and nail for that 60), you have to replant everything once again after you’ve tilled the soil…

To say that there’s a lot on your plate is an understatement.

Free from your furry prison, you’re finally able to sit up and move your limbs freely. Something slightly damp presses against your bare shoulder, calling for your attention. Gunter, still clearly tired (expected of anyone, human or wolf, having to wake up at six o’clock in the morning), is now awaiting proper payment for his services.

“I got some dried venison in the kitchen,” you offer. The way his one good eye pops wide open and his tail begins to rapidly wag, the deer jerky will suffice.

You give the top of his head one last rub before standing up and heading straight for your bathroom to take a quick shower. Since the availability of electricity has been scarce lately, so is the availability of heating throughout the dorm. Unlike the ghosts, who can’t differentiate between hot and cold (unless it’s magically sourced), you can. Unlike the ghosts who are already dead, you will die in this late winter cold. Grim has better control of his blue flames compared to when you first met him, so he can now essentially be his own heater. He seemed a bit too comfortable keeping himself warm and letting you freeze to death, considering you’re the only reason he’s enrolled in this school.

You make do with what you have and your situation. Even when you gathered all the untorn and clean blankets and piled them on top of you last night, the cold still found its way underneath your cocoon. Gunter, the leader of a small bunch of wolves you had been taking care of during your first few weeks in Twisted Wonderland, must have seen you struggling to stave off the cold and settled himself next to you during the night followed by his brother, his sister, and finally Gunter’s mate and their pups.

Of course, with three full-grown wolves and four chubby wolf babies as your immediate heat sources, you overheated in no time and had to throw off all your covers and strip down to your underclothes in the middle of the night since your pajamas had quickly gotten soaked in sweat (and most definitely covered in their thick fur). A cold shower is just what you need to clean up after a long night drenched in sweat.

You also need to clean your sheets, but without electricity, your washer and dryer are out of order for the time being…

Dammit.

Cold showers suck, but once the ice-cold water hits your back, it woke you the hell up. You probably spent only five minutes in there before you quickly rinsed off and got out because of how unbearable the ice water was.

Once you’re properly toweled dried, you head to your closet and change. You put on clothes you don’t mind getting covered in dirt and sweat; a simple wool sweatshirt and some overalls lined with thick fleece. You also put on a pair of knitted crew socks and secure them to your leg with a pair of garters.

Right as you snap the final metal clasp on the knotted fabric, you feel a familiar bump on your shoulder. Gunter is giving you his best pleading face he can manage. Most people likely wouldn’t fall for it, what with the many scars littering across his body and face, making him look scary rather than cute. You feel a little tug in your heart. Luckily, you’re all dressed up and ready to start your day, so you quickly straighten up and usher him downstairs to give him his well-deserved treat. You grab your phone before you exit your room so you can peruse it on your way.

As you read over old texts and useless emails, a new notification comes in. It’s another message. As surprised as you are to receive a message so early in the morning (Ace and Deuce are likely still snoring and drooling into their pillows at this hour), it is the sender of the text that makes your slowed strides halt completely.

Good morning. I hope you had a pleasant and well-deserved night of rest. I’m currently getting ready to head over to the Ramshackle dorm to help you with your harvesting, as I promised. The coat you’ve made and gifted me during the holidays also fits perfectly and is by far the most comfortable piece of clothing I now own.

Thank you again for your most generous gift. I will inform you when I have arrived.

Yours truly,

Malleus Draconia

You can’t help but smack your palm on your forehead. You’re not annoyed or exasperated, it’s quite the opposite, actually. You’re happy that Malleus’s charm can somehow manifest even within a text message. In fact, this isn’t the first time he’s sent you a message formatted and written like a formal letter. If someone were to look at the small messaging history between you two, they’d see that a great majority of it is just Malleus sending you these long strings of text. They would also find your messages, or rather, your poor and embarrassing attempts at mimicking his language and style (he says he gets a laugh out of them, so maybe they’re as bad as you think). There’s also always a follow-up message, gently reminding and encouraging him to relax and not worry about offending you for speaking casually for you.

His response is always the same, and it makes your stomach feel strangely fuzzy.

You have earned my respect, now I must strive to earn yours.

It’s only been a little over a month since he dropped the bombshell that was his desire for your friendship to evolve into a proper, romantic relationship. To say it surprised you is another understatement. You were thoroughly flabbergasted once your mind finally registered his words as genuine. To hear him say “I love you” and direct such a powerful statement towards you was truly the last thing you expected since arriving in this strange world.

But through all the outer uncertainties there was one thing you were certain of, your inner uncertainties. Malleus is a dear friend of yours. Even amongst Ace or Deuce, two individuals who have been with you since the beginning and nearly every overblot incident that has come your way, Malleus holds a special place in your heart as your dearest friend.

But a friend is all he’s ever been in your mind. There was truly never an instance where you pondered or even held some amount of desire or expectation that your friendship could evolve into something more. You felt like a total prick during the end of his confession, asking him if you could sit on his words for a while and come back to him when you have a more certain and final answer to give. Watching the hope and nervousness in his eyes turn into one of pure and utter sadness and even embarrassment, yet he willed himself to conceal his heartbroken emotions back for your sake. It hurt like hell. What was supposed to be an exciting and relaxing end-of-winter-break party in Scarabia’s dorm (and an apology party for Jamil’s actions against you), turned awkward. Neither of you stayed any longer once you went your separate ways.

Despite what had happened, when you received a proper smartphone (and a proper phone plan to boot) as a gift for Christmas, one of the first things you did was transfer all your old contacts into the new device. The first person you messaged was Malleus, wanting to check in on him after your last encounter and to wish him a happy holiday. He answered back in a matter of minutes, much to your surprise. While he’s not the most tech-savvy, your major concern was whether he was holding up well after what happened and if you guys were going to remain as friends. You went on a whole tangent, trying your best to not sound so desperate and ensure that your response is in no way his fault because it most certainly is not. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s you.

Gunter suddenly tenses up. His fur instinctually puffs out, trying to appear bigger in anticipation of whatever threat he’s detected in the kitchen. Metallic clanking and clashing come from underneath the kitchen island where you store all the pots, pans, and heavy-duty appliances. A loud and harsh crash riles up Gunter enough that he feels the need to growl at whatever is underneath the cupboard.

You quietly move past him and wave your arm, signaling him to move back a bit. He listens to your orders and takes a few slow steps back. You position yourself on the side of the cabinet, fingertips pressing onto the top of the door to prepare to open.

“On my mark,” you whisper to Gunter. “One... Two…Three!”

You yank the door open, and Gunter quickly launches himself towards the potential threat. Though, not a second passes before he’s suddenly skidding across the floor, trying to immediately halt himself. He barely avoids hitting his head against the wood and giving himself a nasty bruise. When you ask him what’s wrong, he sticks his head into the cabinet and pulls out the apparent intruder.

It’s Blossom, a young fawn you rescued from the rose gardens of the Heartslaybul dorm. It was during the preparation of the unbirthday party near the start of the school year that subsequently led to dorm leader Riddle’s overblot. Cater assigned Grimm, Ace, Deuce, and yourself to paint the roses red with him. On top of rose painting duty, Cater was also on the lookout for a supposed ‘rose thief’ who had been snagging some roses from their garden right from under their noses. The scoundrel they were looking for was the fawn before you. From the way he still wobbled on his feet, he wasn’t even a month old when you initially rescued him. He’s lucky you found him when you did. His front leg was caught in a rusted and dull, but full-sized bear trap they set up in case the thief was a wild animal.

“What are you doing in there?” you ask the little troublemaker. “Probably trying to find a snack to chew on, huh?”

Blossom thrashes, trying to break free from Gunter’s hold on his scruff. He of course fails, but not without giving out a distressed scream and trying to plead for forgiveness by giving you his best innocent look. You shake your head before looking up at the small clock hung up on the wall above the refrigerator. It runs on battery so you have to worry about the time no longer being correct when the house lacks power.

It’s 6:15, still way too early. You tell Gunter to let go of Blossom and he does it without argument. Blossom quickly runs up to you, using your own body as a foothold to jump up into your arms. Once you have a hold of him, he bombards your face with little licks and nuzzles of his snout. While this action is normal and you would gladly accept it, you know better than to think it’s not the fawn’s attempts at trying to distract you from his misdeed.

“If you’re looking for the sugared flower petals, you won’t have any luck down there,” you tell him. He immediately stops his loving ministrations and gives out a disappointingly snort before relaxing in your arms.

You chuckle and give him a few apologetic pets on the head as you walk over to one of the upper cupboards and rummage around the various jars, trying to locate the dried venison for Gunter. You also grab a jar placed far in the back with the aforementioned candied rose petals Blossom was most definitely looking for. The moment you open the jar and the heavy scent of sweetness and floral whiffs in the air, Blossom begins to excitedly thrash about in your arms and tries to stick his head into the container. Luckily, the small nubs on his head, his newly budding antlers, stop him from reaching too deep.

You spend the next few minutes feeding your companions their early morning treat. The doorbell rings as you let Blossom lick the last specks of sugar off of your now damp palm. After rinsing your hands off and drying them, you head to the door. You open it and take in the sight of a newly arrived Malleus, dressed in a simple black dress shirt and a pair of loose-fitting linen pants you made for him when he expressed discomfort over his PE uniform the last time he helped you in your garden.

“Good morning!” you greet him as brightly as you can without being too loud.

“A good morning to you as well,” he greets back. Unlike you, who is still groggy and slow, he seems properly energized despite the time. You’re jealous. You’ve been waking up at the crack of dawn for years, at least a decade now, yet your body isn’t used to the early routine. Though compared to the hundreds of years Malleus has on you, you probably won’t show any sign of improvement until your hairs are gray.

“Have you eaten yet?” Malleus asks.

You shake your head. “The electricity is out, so I can’t use the stove or open the fridge too often.”

“Crowley still hasn’t replaced your generator?”

“No,” you frown. “Every time I try to bring it up he either gives an outlandish excuse or just flat out tells me I don’t need a new one.”

His eyebrows pressed together, clearly upset as you are at the headmaster’s failure as your caretaker. You reassure him it’s fine. Everyone in the dorm has been saving money for emergencies like this, and it just so happens that the money you’ll make for selling the produce you collect today will bring in just enough to buy a brand new generator. You’ll be out of electricity for another week, two at most, but have enough firewood and nonperishable foods to last until then.

“You should at least make yourself some coffee,” Malleus urges. “It’s bad to work on an empty stomach. You've said so yourself.”

“I will once Grim and the ghosts wake up,” you reassure. “For now, let’s head to the back and get started. There’s a lot to harvest, so the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish up.”

He’s clearly unhappy at your dismal of his concerns. You know that being so nonchalant towards a fae is rude, but you don’t want to worry him with your own issues. You also have no desire to eat or drink, not this early in the morning at least. If you tell him as much, he’ll probably freak out like he did last time, thinking you were unwell and forcing you to lie in bed for the rest of the day.

Yes, you could have pushed back and argued that you were fine, but it’s very hard to tell him “no” when his intentions are purely out of concern for your well-being. Better to let him hover over you and see that you’re fine than to leave him stewing in his anxieties in silence.

“What have you been growing this season?” Malleus asks as he tugs on the loaned gardening gloves you handed him.

“The usual spread. Some potatoes, cabbage, and carrots. The only fresh additions I planted are some peas and kale. Oh, and broccoli!”

“Did the crops hold well when you were gone?”

“They did thanks to the ghosts. The heat from the fire faeries around the campus also made them easier to protect from the cold,” you explain. “I should probably give them some type of exotic wood as a little thank you gift.”

“You can never go wrong with a bit of mahogany,” Malleus says as he ties back his hair.

You hand him a straw hat, one that you weaved to accommodate for his black horns. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“Your welcome,” he smiles at you before turning back to your garden. “So where shall we start first?”

“I’ll work on picking the cabbage heads. You can cut off the pea pods and we’ll go from there.”

“Very well. I’ll follow your lead.”

It’s 8 a.m. You know this because Ace and Deuce are woken up at this hour by Riddle and one of the first things they do is bombard you with text messages which usually forces you to turn your phone on silent mode. Despite it being late winter, you’re already working up a sweat from the repetitive and demanding motions of picking and carrying around baskets full of vegetables and cleaning them. Malleus is no better, hand continuously raising to his face to wipe away the constant wetness clinging to his forehead. You know he’s not used to manual labor like you are, so you try to bring him a pail of water every so often so he can stay properly hydrated.

“Oh my, you’re already up?”

You turn around to see who’s speaking to you and see one of the ghosts that live with you and Grim in Ramshackle floating towards you.

“Good morning!” you greet him. “Did you need something?”

“No no,” he shakes his head. “I just came to check up on my bees and saw you already hard at work.”

The ghost (Franklin is his name, but you all call him Frankie for short by his insistence), affectionately ruffles your hair with his large white palm. He’s one of the tamer ghosts, but he’s still capable of pulling a prank on you or his fellow housemates now and then. You and he have been cultivating and maintaining a small beehive since October, but he does most of the work and maintenance since he has more experience in the ways of beekeeping than you from when he was alive.

Frankie does a quick once over of the garden, his scanning gaze doubling back at seeing Malleus carefully rinse a couple of heads of broccoli.

“How long has he been here?”

“Since 6:30,” you answer back. “Why?”

“No one gets up that early unless it’s for someone they fancy,” he says rather nonchalantly, but the way he quickly side-eyes you show that he’s clearly talking about you. You try your best to appear unaffected and give a “Is that right?” type of hum, but your efforts are in vain since he just laughs at you.

“If even you know, that means he’s got it bad.”

You say nothing back because you honestly don’t know what to say, or if you should. You’re content to just go back to plucking potatoes out from the ground, but Frankie doesn’t seem to want to leave you alone just yet. He asks you to come with him to the greenhouse where the hive is being kept. The small glass enclosure also houses some flowers and herbs you use for cooking or medicine.

You quickly close the door behind you once you enter, reveling in the warmer air that hits your face. While Frankie lights his cigar and gets a heavy cloud of smoke going (his personal method of keeping the bees calm), he has you open the top and carefully pull out the panels one by one while he checks for any signs of a decaying hive and ensures the queen is alive and healthy. One of your initial worries about beekeeping was getting stung, but Frankie reassured you it’ll only happen if you purposely upset the bees or fail to care for the hives consistently. Now, you gladly let the buzzing honeybees wander around your bare skin.

As Frankie pulls out his cigar from between his lips and taps off the ashes into the respective ashtray, he looks over at you and asks, “Is everything ok?”

You give him a confused expression as you snap the cover for the hive back into place. “I’m fine?”

“You sure? Because if you ask me, you don’t seem like it.”

“I mean, I already have a pile of schoolwork I need to finish and a rundown dorm to take care of. I’m as ok as anyone in my position can be-“

“I’m not talking about any of that,” he interrupts. “I’m talking about you. Forget about Grim and your studies. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” you answer again.

“Are you sure?”

Well, when he puts it that way, even he must be able to see that you’re clearly not doing alright. In fact, you haven’t been alright since you were literally kidnapped and held against your will in the Scarabia dorm. Luckily everything worked out fine for everyone else, but not so much for you. You’ve noticed that your appetite is waning and you wake up multiple times during the night because you don’t feel safe, even in your own room.

Malleus’s confession unfortunately was another wrench being thrown at you. With your hands already so full of this and that, you’re struggling to figure out what needs a priority and which issues you need to either drop entirely or find someone trustworthy to take care of it in your stead. It’s hard to ask people for help when they either find a convenient reason to say no or you feel as if you can’t trust them to do something as simple as watering your plants. The only person you feel you can trust and ask for help is Malleus, and things aren’t exactly as they were between the two of you.

“Talk to me kiddo,” Frankie prods. “What’s been eating at you?”

He lifts his ashtray and makes to snuff out his cigar so he can focus on speaking to you, but you hastily reach over and stop him. You take the smoke from him and bring it up to your lips and puff a few grey clouds. Strangely enough, it tastes rather pleasant, floral, and creamy. You didn’t expect to taste like this because of the way it smells, like soil that was just freshly rained on.

“Sorry,” you hand it back to him. “I haven’t eaten and I’m practically running on fumes.”

“That’s alright,” he says, handing it back to you. “You look like you need it more than me.”

Malleus carefully blows small bits of green fire onto his freezing fingertips, trying to warm them up after being drenched in the icy water from the water pump. He looks over his shoulder, over the stalks of peas, towards you. You’re still in the greenhouse and frantically moving your lips. He can see your eyes are glistening with a fresh layer of… tears? You don’t allow a single drop to get past your lids, wiping them just at the last second before they can pass over the threshold.

He’s only ever seen you cry one other time, when he came to your rescue in Scarabia over the break. He initially thought he frightened you with his aggressive display of magic. Once the dust settled and the blot on Jamil was expunged, no one was more shocked than he was when you boldly ran straight towards him and jumped into his arms. It was all he ever wanted, what his mind dreamed of every single time he closed his eyes. He could no longer brush off the fluttering in his stomach as the mere excitement of making and spending time with his first genuine friend. He was determined to keep his newfound affections for you with him under lock and key, not willing to risk ruining your close-knit friendship with his selfish and potentially one-sided desires.

Your desperate embrace, your toughie exterior lowering to that of a sniveling and shaking human, gave Malleus the impression that the only reason you would display such vulnerability before him was that you reciprocated his sentiments. It gave him a sense of confidence he never knew he was lacking, usually so sure of himself most other times. It made his chest burn with an aching desire to say “to hell with it all” and spill his heart right then and there.

When you extended the invitation you received from Kalim to him, he saw it as his proper opportunity to let his affections be known. He was upset (according to Lilia, more than usual) that he had to take Sebek and Silver along with him for the usual security, but he was determined to get them distracted long enough so he can pull you aside and confess to you without fear of interruption or letting his personal affairs be known to anyone else, at least, for as long as he can keep something so monumental under wraps.

As a prince, he has been taught to look at the long term for each of his decisions, as they carry substantial weight. The long term of pursuing a relationship with you meant having to deal with the prejudices and stigma against humans that still live within the hearts of his people. For once in his life, he didn’t want to think like an heir. As he watches you continue to talk to one of Ramshackle’s ghosts with increasing frustration, he realizes his love utterly blinded him back then. The only long-term his rose-tinted mind could comprehend was of the happy moments he had long conjured in his head becoming a reality.

You didn’t explicitly reject him, however; he knows your behavior well enough to know that once his feelings were laid bare before you, you would not take them into your arms and hand yours over in return. Arms crossed and avoidance of eye contact, you do this when you’re nervous or unsure, sometimes both. He held onto the self-indulgent hope that you’d show him what you look like when flustered. Perhaps you’d stutter?

You did stutter when you spoke up, but they were not the words that he wanted, that he thought he was, going to hear.

“Malleus...I’m so sorry…”

“Ah, you’re here early!”

“It’s just that…I don’t think I can…”

“Hey! Are you listening to me? You better not be ignoring me on purpose!”

“It’s not that I’m telling you I don’t feel the same way, but I can’t exactly say that I do. It’s just... I’ve never- “

“Tsu-no-ta-rou!” Grim’s shrill voice, still a bit riddled with drowsiness, still pierce Malleus’s eardrums and nearly causes him to drop the vegetable in his hand. “Pay attention to me when I’m speaking!”

“Quiet,” he growls at the monster. “If you need your master, they’re in the greenhouse. Though, you might want to come back another time.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

Malleus lifts Grim from the back of his fuzzy robe (you must have made it and gifted it to him during the holidays) and points to you. Frankie has one of his translucent hands on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly now and then while he speaks. You were no longer wiping your face so furiously, allowing your tears to fall and drip off of your jaw and wet your shirt as you listened to your fellow dorm resident.

“What happened? Did you smash all the tomatoes again?” Grim cranes his neck to look at Malleus accusingly.

“No, I didn’t. Those are out of season.”

“Maybe it’s about what happened at Scarabia,” Grim muses. “They haven’t been sleepin’ too good since we came back, y’know?”

Malleus nearly drops the cat. “They haven’t?”

“Nah,” the cat answers, far too casually and dismissively for the fae’s liking.

“This is news to me,” Malleus says, almost whispering to himself. He’s sad, almost offended, at the fact that you haven’t told him you’ve been having some difficulties this whole time. You normally keep him up to date with your personal life. He’s even more offended once he realizes that you’ve been worrying and reassuring him that your friendship with him isn’t ruined after what’s happened.

There’s a small voice in the back of his mind, conniving and twisted, that feeds into his already prevalent belief that your unwillingness to share with him your personal problems anymore is a sign that he hasn’t earned your respect. It’s a ridiculous explanation, but no amount of reassuring from either you or himself is going to stop his Mind from asking such a multi-sided question. Surely, if you thought admirably of him, you’d continue to allow him to bear witness to your moments of weakness and vulnerability. He feels close to you, connected to you in a way he’s never felt. He can be slow and downright miss some references to your jokes and behavior. You always put on a face of understanding, but is he so lost that your patience has worn paper-thin?

Are his feelings for you truly one-sided? Is he still jumping to conclusions too soon and just needs to give you more time and space? Did he just set a course for a ruined friendship or could his hastiness have been a fruitful gamble?

If it’s not iron that kills him, it’s the uncertainty within his heart and mind.

A shrill whistle pierces through the air and Malleus’s eardrums. Grim hisses at the sudden noise and the hairs on his neck stand up. Even Frankie and you can hear and turn your heads towards the source despite still being in the middle of a conversation. The one who whistled was another one of the ghosts who live in Ramshackle. Johnathan is his name, usually shortened to Johnny. His sunken cheekbones make him look unassuming, but you’ve rightly warned Malleus never to turn your back on that one for too long. It’s a miracle that you can keep up with all their shenanigans.

“I got the generator to start up and made some coffee!” Johnny happily announces. “Come get it while it and the dorm are nice and warm!”

“I’ll have a cup or two, so long as there’s a ton of cream and sugar!” Grim says whilst smiling. “And I ain’t skimping this time on the sugar!”

“You better if you know what’s good for you,” you sternly say, now out of the greenhouse along with Frankie. “We’re short on sugar and I’m not stocking up till next weekend.”

“Whaaaat?!” Grim exclaims, his lower jaw almost reaching the floor. “Since when did you become such a cheapskate?”

Everyone, including Malleus, did a sharp intake of breath as soon as the words passed the cat’s mouth. Everyone turns their head towards you, awaiting your reaction to Grim’s comment. This isn’t the first time Grim has gotten lippy with you and, given his nature as a mischievous little monster (a common trait between Ramshackle’s residents, Malleus is now noticing), it won’t be his last no matter how badly you scare or pull a fast one under his clawed feet. Even when your face is all puffy and wet with semi-dried tears, the look of “oh you’re in it now” is still so panic-inducing to everyone, ghosts, and feline alike. To the sole Fae present, he thinks of you as nothing short of adorable and wants nothing more than to wipe your messy face clean.

“Well, if you want more sugar there is one way you can get some more.”

“W-W-What is it?” Grim says, pudgy body shaking and sinking into the comfort and small safety of his fuzzy robe.

You approach him and bend down to grab him by the back of his neck, lifting him so he’s at your eye level before deadpanning, “Get a job, Make some money, and then buy your own.”

Once you set Grim down, he scrambles back into the home with an almost comical amount of fear in his eyes. He screams about how he’s never getting a job even if it kills him and his continued determination to find the small money vault you have hidden around the dorm and spend it all on canned tuna. Johnny, Frankie, and you all give a unison chant of good luck to him before he disappears completely.

“Has he made any progress in his search?” Malleus asks.

“Our money vault isn’t even in the house, so no,” Johnny answers, resulting in you and Frankie cackling and high-five one another.

With the power back on, you announce that it was time for a well-deserved break. It’s your turn to make breakfast and you immediately begin to ask everyone for their preferences. Frankie cuts you off and insists he take over your duties for the day. You normally would protest and insist to whoever was offering to cover for you it wasn’t a problem for you at all. “I enjoy doing [insert chore], so it’s fine!” is your usual go-to reasoning, but not this time.

Malleus notices the way you make to protest as usual, but you quickly back down and just let Frankie go ahead inside to take over for you. In normal Ramshackle fashion, Frankie mentions the cigar you were puffing and waving around earlier and says that you owe him another one, particularly an artisanal one that he’s recently read about in the local newspaper and has been aching to try.

“You got any more highly specific goods you want me to fight tooth and nail for?” you sneer.

“No, just the cigar will do,” he says before turning around to head back inside. Before he can close the door behind him all the way he pulls it back and says, “If you get it sometime this week I’ll buy a new bag of sugar.”

You whisper an impressive string of curses under your breath. Malleus has to restrain the urge to laugh at your colorful vocabulary.

“In that case, I hope your schedule is free tomorrow night. I’ll have it by then.”

Frankie gives you a thumbs up before heading back inside. Once the door behind him clicks shut, you turn towards Malleus and he physically feels his body shift from somewhat relaxed to stiff and proper. You notice this and crinkle your nose a bit, something to do when you find something endearing or as a way of silently giggling. Malleus watches with such an unnecessary amount of focus as you reach up to adjust his straw hat and wipe a bit of dirt off the collar of his shirt.

“I’m sorry for leaving you hanging back there,” you say as you pick off a stray leaf that somehow got tangled in his dark locks. “I’m also sorry you had to see me crying like that. I’ve just been so tired lately.”

There it is again. That damn twisting ache right in his heart.

“It’s fine,” he reassures you. “But if it isn’t too rude of me to ask, is your lack of sleep really all that’s wrong with you?”

You give out a long sigh. “I’m guessing Grim told you a bit of what’s been happening since winter break?”

“He has.”

Your arms cross and the ground suddenly becomes more interesting. You’re unsure, but the way your eyebrows press together is a sign that you’re conflicted. Malleus feels his frostbitten hands accumulate a layer of sweat as you silently mull over your thoughts. Despite the pain and hesitance in his heart, he wills himself to grasp you by the arm and pull you into an awkward hug. He knows it’s not exactly what you might need at the moment, and he was fully preparing you to push him away. He’s relieved when you bring your arms around his torso and reciprocate the embrace.

“I’m tired,” you sigh

“You haven’t been resting well, so it makes sense.“

“No,” you shake your head, the tips of your hair tickling Malleus’s neck. “It’s not just a lack of sleep that’s making me feel exhausted. After what happened with Scarabia, especially with Jamil, I don’t feel safe anymore.”

“Are you afraid?” he asks. To think of you as fearful is an entirely foreign concept for him when you’ve only ever been confident and certain of yourself since the first time he met you.

“Yeah, I am,” you admit without skipping a beat.

Considering what you told him, Malleus thinks your fear is justified. You have no defense against magic…

He fills a strain in his neck as his entire body suddenly seized up. You notice this and pull away to ask him what’s wrong. “Nothing,” he quickly dismisses, but you don’t let him go silent on you.

“If,” he hesitates. He’s thinking too rashly already, yet he’s still so compelled to act upon his thoughts. “Should anyone attempt to do you harm, I swear upon my name and title that I will do whatever it takes to protect you.”

He means every word, but you seem to take it far too casually than he would have liked. You press your face against his shoulder and laugh against his skin, your breath bringing him some much-needed temporary warmth. Such an ordinary action, yet it causes another pang within his heart. It settles next to the one that arose before, but he bites his tongue and endures it for your sake.

“Maybe you could play that electric violin for whoever comes after me,” you jest.

As embarrassing as it is to hear that you know about that incident (he’ll have to reprimand Lilia for telling you about that), he can’t help but laugh along with you. If making a bunch of teenagers’ foam from the mouth amuses you, then so be it.

“Thank you for offering to get your hands dirty for my sake,” you say. “That’s one thing I respect about you. You take care of the people you care for.”

His body goes still once again. “Is that right?” is all his mind can wrap around and say.

“Yes, oh Wise and Great Lord Malleus. I do, in fact, respect you.”

He cringes at that title. It’s something he has heard Sebek try to enforce you to refer to Malleus as, which you never do purely so you can get a rise out of his loyal guard. Before he can ask you to never call him that again, a bunch of howl’s ring out, and the two of you pull away from each other. The wolf’s howling is usually a sign that food is ready, which you seem rather eager to get to as you interlock your arm with his and drag him inside with you.

He looks back at his basket of still dirty vegetables. “What about-“

“It’s alright! I’m not throwing a fuss over a few broccoli heads!”

Crispy bacon, over easy and scrambled eggs, and a mountain of sizzling hash browns. Once everyone grabs a plate and sits down at the dining table (Malleus sticks close to you, hoping he can sit next to you), they grab whatever pieces of food they want in whichever quantity. Somewhere in the next room over, a faint melody plays through the speaker of an old record player. The vintage singer has a rather cheeky attitude in her vocals but with the accompanying music, it all comes together harmoniously. It’s perfect for a rather excitable breakfast.

It seems you never told the ghosts too many details about your sudden disappearance during the break. You downplay the true extent of your dilemma as you willingly giving your time and effort to help a desperate Jamil figure out what was causing his normally kind dorm leader to have a sudden personality switch. The ghosts listen carefully, and as you gradually get to the big climax that is Jamil’s betrayal and overblot, followed by Malleus’s sudden appearance, they’re all practically hanging on the edge of their seats. Your tale even intrigues the wolves and Blossom. They gather and settle near the legs of your chair, ushering you to continue your story by whining and scratching your ankle.

You don’t exaggerate Malleus’s part in your tale, something he greatly appreciates. You tell them how things happened just as they did: Grey clouds suddenly covering the sky and the occasional peak of lightning through their fogginess. Just when it seems like Jamil has the upper hand and is going to put an end to Grim and you, as well as Jade, Floyd, and Azul of Octavinelle, Malleus appears out of nowhere and effortlessly zaps the blot right out of the vice dorm leader of Scarabia.

“That deserves some praise,” Benjamin, the third of your ghostly residents, raises his half-filled mug of coffee and extends it towards the middle of the table. “To Malleus!”

Everyone, including you and Grim, raises your glasses and repeats his chant. “To Malleus!”

“To me, I suppose,” Malleus half-heartedly raises his own cup. “It really wasn’t much effort, or any praise really.”

He catches you looking at him in his peripheral and he feels a lump form in this throat that he immediately swallows. “I simply did what I believed you would have done for me if our positions were reversed.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” you say after swallowing a hefty mouthful of scrambled eggs. “But it’s nice knowing you have my back. It makes me feel safe.”

“Safe?” Malleus is surprised to hear you say this, considering what you told him earlier. “I make you feel safe?”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised. “Y-Yeah. I guess you do.”

“You guess?”

“You do,” you say, more definitively this time. “I promise. If you didn’t you’d know.”

He can’t help but laugh. “I can only imagine what interacting with you would be like then.”

“Probably not that good, or not at all. I steer clear of people I don’t particularly like.”

His eyebrows raise in intrigue as he sips his now lukewarm coffee. “What makes you dislike someone?”

“I dislike people I have no respect for,” you say casually. Malleus thinks you might be joking or poking fun at him, but how you take the time to look up to him while you busy yourself with feeding Gunter a few bits of bacon clearly means you’re trying to tell him something secretly. It’s definitely something along the lines of, “I don’t know where this mindset of me not respecting you came from, but it’s a load of bullshit and you need to get that thought out of your head.”

Even within his head, your language is still so vulgar and blunt. Only you would talk to him in such a rude manner.

But he respects that part about you.

[thecomicsnexus]

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES #67-70 APRIL - JULY 1995 BY STEVE MURPHY, CHRIS ALLAN, JON D’AGOSTINO, BARRY GROSSMAN, BRIAN THOMAS, JIM LAWSON, ERIC TALBOT AND HARVEY MERCADOOCASIO

SYNOPSIS (COMIC VINE)

Two wolf people are howling at the moon in the Alaskan forest when the female of the pair is shot by a hunter. A green jeep flees the scene as the werewolf screams in despair over his fallen mate.

Meanwhile, The TMNT, April, Oyuki and Ninjara are camping in the same forest. Ninjara is upset with Raph and the two are arguing. In the morning, the group bids farewell to Tattoo, who is flying to Japan with Oyuki, who will be covering the Sumo-Fest that Tattoo will be competing in. Ninjara bids Tattoo farewell and tells him how his presence reminds her of home, which she misses...

Later, our heroes are driving through the woods in a green jeep similar to the one the hunter who shot the fox woman was driving. Ninjara and Raphael continue to fight, Ninjara is upset over Raph's cynicism. Another vehicle approaches and inside is an old man and a boy, who stop to see if everything is alright as services in the area are few and far between. April assures the man that all is fine, they had only pulled over to study the map, and the fellow drives off. The reporter and her friends decide to camp in the spot for the night and build a fire and pitch tents. Don explains how the Aurora Borealis works and Ninjara dejectedly gets up to take a walk. Raph follows and asks her what the problem is and she explains that she feels adrift in her life with the TMNT, that she's not following her own path but that of the Turtles. Raph states that he thought she liked being with them, and Ninjara points out that Raph doesn't know what she thinks because he never asks her.

Suddenly, Ninjara hears howling in the distance and runs off to investigate, leaving Raph behind. Leo joins his bemused brother and the two set off in pursuit of the unhappy fox. The teens find Ninjara frozen on all fours, staring into the woods. Raph asks her what she's doing and she angrily points out the countless pairs of eyes peering at them from behind the curtain of foliage. The trio is suddenly surrounded by a pack of wolves. Leo suggests that they calmly vacate the area, but Ninjara refuses to leave. One wolf approaches her and stares into her eyes, and she states that it's trying to tell her something, or someone, is coming. Just then, April, Mike and Don crash through the brush with weapons drawn. Ninjara observes that she didn't expect the arrival to be her compartriots, when another being arrives - the wolf man from the beginning of the issue, who introduces himself as Mokoshan and tells our heroes he's going to kill them for trespassing!

Mokoshan continues to threaten our heroes when he's suddenly taken aback by Ninjara. The angry werewolf leaps down from his rocky perch and discovers that Ninjara is one of his kindred, and compliments her on her beauty. Raph gets angry and tells Mokoshan to head for home to get his clothes out of the dryer. Mokoshan ignores the testy Turtle as wind begins to swirl snow around him - when the air clears, the wolf man is gone, leaving a doe-eyed Ninjara feeling flummoxed. Later that night, Ninjara sits by the campfire while everyone else sleeps - everyone except April, that is. The reporter asks Ninjara if she's in the mood for some "girl talk" and Ninjara reveals that she's not in love with Raphael anymore. In the morning the group hits the road. Ninjara and Raph continue to fight. As they drive, Raph spots an "Indian dude" keeping pace with them on foot, but no one else sees the man. The group stops to take a hike and Raph begs Ninjara to talk to him and tells her that he loves her. Ninjara sighs and begins to explain her feelings when the others call them over to view some wolves feeding on a deer carcass. Ninjara spots the old man from the Jeep aiming his rifle at the wolves and screams that they have to stop him. She dives over the precipice that the group is perched upon and lands among the wolves as the hunter fires his gun... hitting Ninjara several times in the shoulder, ribs and thigh! Raphael freaks out and attacks the hunter, ripping the rifle from his hands and threatening him - but the boy appears between the two and beseeches Raph not to hurt his Grampa. The snow begins to swirl and Mokoshan emerges from the murk. 

The mysterious werewolf picks up Ninjara and states that his medicine will cure her, and the two of them disappear into the gail. Raph smashes the rifle in anger as the hunter and his grandson flee. Raphael decides to head out in search for Ninjara, but Leo states that the storm is getting worse and they have to make camp. Raph protests, but Leonardo points out that Raph has no idea which direction to go, and the storm will only make things more difficult - they'll have to camp until the storm blows over. Raphael reluctantly agrees and the Turtles make camp. Later, April and Mike discuss Raph - Mikey says that he just needs some time alone and he'll be better - besides, it's not like Raph could go out in the blizzard alone to search for Ninjara. Sure enough, that's exactly what Raphael is doing.

As Raph heads out into the storm to search for Ninjara, he's attacked by a gigantic polar bear, which slaps him over the side of a cliff and knocks the Turtle unconscious. Meanwhile, Ninjara lies in a bed in a comfortable looking cave dwelling, where she's attended by a jealous fox girl named Revyen. Revyen painfully checks Ninjara's bandages, causing the fallen ninja to cry out in pain. Mokoshan rushes into the room and angrily tells Revyn to get out. In the morning, the storm has finally ended. Mike, Leo, Don and April emerge from their tents to find Raphael missing. The group heads out to find their headstrong ally. Raph awakes with a start and finds the Indian he had seen previously crouched beside him. The man's name is Dave, and he asks Raph why the animal spirits are returning. Dave tells Raph that his people have been seeing many of them recently - the were-bar that attacked Raph, the Turtles themselves, and more recently, a walrus spirit. Raph explains that he's no spirit, but he is seeking the wolf-people. Dave leads Raph to a mountain face containing two caves, and tells the terrapin that he's not sure which will take him to Mokoshan's village - the ninja will have to chose his own path. Raph angrily heads off, hoping that he'll pick the right entrance to follow. Back at Mokoshan's village, a funeral pyre has been prepared for the werewolf's slain mate, Nei'sha, queen of the werewolves. The group lets out a mournful howl as Mokoshan lights the tower of sticks. The cry wakes Ninjara, who dons a robe and heads down to see what's going on. She finds Mokoshan standing forlornly in front of the dying embers of the blaze. As Mokoshan explains who Nei'sha was, Ninjara begins to collapse, and the mighty werewolf helps her back to her room to rest. April and Mike find Raph's sais and tracks, and the foursome follow the trail to the caves. Inside, Raph stumbles into a huge pack of wolves. Outside, Leonardo choses which cave to enter the old fashioned way - by doing the ole "eenie meenie minie moe" schtick. The Turtles draw their weapons and go in search for Raphael.

As April, Leo, Mike and Don transverse their cave, they discover half buried nuclear waste barrels. Raphael threatens the wolves, but quickly realizes that he should try to retreat. As the ninja backs away, he bumps his head on a stalactyte, which comes loose and conks him on the head, knocking him cold. At Mokoshan's village, the king of the wolvf people explains how his society works to Ninjara. They have no contact with the outside world of modern man, and to surive in difficult times they maintain a heard of caribou in case they cannot hunt in the wild. Mokoshan also tells Ninjara that his people are known by the "ancient" men of the region, the Eskimoes, who came to this area centuries ago from Asia, as did the werewolves. Ninjara explains that her people are from Japan, and that she's thinking about returning there. Mokoshan invites her stay with the wolves until she has fully recovered from her gun wounds - and on cue, Ninjara begins to feel faint. Mokoshan takes her back to her room. April and the guys emerge out the other side of their cave and discover some crazy plant growth. April explains that the government were experimenting with the nuclear waste, to see what its effects on the soil would be. As they walk away, Leo notes that if this is the result of the tests on plant life, he wouldn't want to see what it would do to wildlife... and from the darkness of the cave, two very large eyes peer at the group. Raph awakes inside a room very similar to the one Ninjara is housed in. He's greeted slyly by Revyen, but Raph is angry and jumps out of bed to search for Ninjara. Revyen points out a window, where Raph sees Mokoshan walking with the ninja, his arm around her. Raphael crashes through a window and accosts the werewolf. Mokoshan tries to talk with Raph, but the Turtle is too angry for words and he punches the wolf king. Ninjara cries for them to stop, but the boys continue their battle, as Revyen smiles from the window above. Meanwhile, the werebear is back, and it's brought some friends to attack April, Don, Leo and Mike. Leo orders a hasty retreat as the group is no match for the monstrous bears. Raph and Mokoshan continue to fight, when suddenly Leo and the others burst through the trees, the werebears in hot pursuit. Mokoshan releases the caribou to divert the bears' attention, and the plan works! The bears chase the caribou off into the distance. Mokoshan discovers Ninjara lying on the ground and rushes to her side. She weakly states that she's okay, but the strain of the excitement was too much for her. Mokoshan lifts her and carries her to her room, as Raph stands dejectedly by the side. Later, Ninjara and April are seated on the mountains talking. Ninjara reveals that she plans to return home, although she does like Mokoshan's village (as well as him). Raph arrives and asks April for some time alone with Ninjara. April vacates the are and Raph sits with Ninjara. Ninjara tells the turtle that there's more to this problem than just them, but she does have needs that aren't being met. She states that she needs some consistency and structure to her life - and she just wants out of the situation that she's currently in. Raphael assures her that it's okay, that hes seen this coming for a long time now, and that's one reason he's been so upset lately. He then tells her that he'll miss her, and Ninjara says that she'llmiss him, too.

Raph walks off as Ninjara remains seated on the stones, both begin to cry. Below, Mokoshan bids the others farewell. Raphael joins them and the wolf king also says goodbye to him, but the ninja ignores Mokoshan. Mike tries to console his brother by telling him that "it's better to have lost at love than never to have loved at all." With a sour expression on his face, Raph tells Mike to shut-up. Our heroes walk off into the woods as the sun rises before them.

REVIEW

While writing with a pseudonym, Steve Murphy is doing this story and I have to say, it is an improvement over the past few sagas. While we see blood and people shooting other people, I found it a bit less dark than usual. On the other hand, this book has become a regular comic-book, very far away from its original premise.

Seeing Ninjara go may have happened to late, but technically she was supposed to return during The Forever War. I’ll talk about that in the next post, but suffice to say, it wasn’t published and a two-part flashback story ran instead as the last story of this volume.

As for the rest of this story, I felt the exposition wasn’t as hard as usual and the characters feel a bit more real as well.

The Inky back-up story... you could skip... but it’s cute.

I give the story a score of 8.

[onewfantaesy]

so in age gap au, there are a few instances where jonghyun has been the one to pick taemin up from school

and the first time it happens, taemin is 4 and still in preschool, and jonghyun walks into the little school and just

“i’m here to pick up taemin,” he says to the lady at the front desk.

“and who are you?” she asks. she’s worked here for ten years and she gets to know every single child and their family by the end of their first week with the preschool, and this man has never been to here to pick up taemin before.

“i’m a friend of his brother’s,” jonghyun says carefully. “kibum couldn’t get off work in time and both of taemin’s parents had to stay over, so i’m here to get him.”

it takes two phone calls and a lot of convincing, but soon enough, jonghyun gets taken to the 4-year-old classroom and sees taemin putting together a puzzle on one of the tables. jonghyun grins and walks playfully over to taemin, and he kneels down and gets close enough to the oblivious little boy so he can ask, “what do you have there, taeminnie?”

taemin jumps a little bit, but when he turns to see jonghyun sitting next to him, his face breaks out into a wide grin.

“key’s boyfriend!” taemin shouts, hugging jonghyun around the neck before pulling back and pointing at his puzzle. “look! it’s the power rangers!”

jonghyun tells him how amazing it is, and he helps him put the last few pieces together before taemin looks at him with a scrunched up face.

“why are you at my school?” taemin asks. jonghyun laughs and pokes his nose.

“i’m picking you up because kibummie got held up at work. so we’re gonna go to my house until your brother can come get you,” jonghyun tells him.

when taemin’s teacher comes up to the two of them, she asks who jonghyun is.

“i’m a friend of his brother’s,” jonghyun says quickly.

but taemin is quick to specify, “he’s key’s boyfriend!”

jonghyun laughs nervously, but the woman just smiles and says that taemin talks about him a lot, and it’s nice to finally meet him.

jonghyun helps taemin get his backpack and his lunchbox, and he wonders what a 4-year-old keeps in such a big power rangers backpack, and then the two of them head out to jonghyun’s car hand-in-hand.

“do you have a carseat in your car?” taemin asks, an excited look on his face.

“yes i do, i stopped by your brother’s work and got the one from his car,” jonghyun informs him. taemin pouts, but he doesn’t fight it when jonghyun helps him into the carseat.

“i don’t need one,” taemin tries to tell him. “i’m a big boy now. i’m not little anymore.”

“you’re not little anymore?” jonghyun asks him as he buckles taemin in.

“nope. i’m all big now,” taemin says, nodding his head.

“well then i guess a big boy wouldn’t want to go get a happy meal,” jonghyun says with a shrug. taemin’s eyes go wide.

“big boys can have happy meals!” taemin argues. “’specially if it’s chick’nuggets.”

“you want chicken nuggets?” jonghyun asks. 

“yeah, chick’nuggets,” taemin says, “with choc’late milk.”

“okay,” jonghyun says in an exaggerated voice, “i guess i could get you chicken nuggets and a chocolate milk. but only on one condition.”

“what”

“you have to share your toy with me,” jonghyun tells him.

“okay!” taemin agrees, and once jonghyun goes and gets into the car as well, taemin tells him all about what he did at preschool today.

when they get to mcdonald’s, taemin is hugging jonghyun’s legs the whole time they’re in line, and he hides behind them when they get up to the register. 

they sit down to eat, and taemin is fine until he accidentally knocks over his chocolate milk and it spills all over the front of his shirt. jonghyun is quick to put the jug back on the table, but taemin’s lip is already wobbling, and the tears are already welling up in his eyes.

“hey, hey, it’s okay,” jonghyun tells him. “it was just an accident. we’ll clean it all up, it’s fine.”

but taemin starts crying anyway. jonghyun cleans up taemin’s clothes as best he can with the napkins, and then he wipes up where it spilled on the table and the bench before cramming the rest of their food in taemin’s happy meal box and just picking taemin up to take him back to the car. 

“there’s no use crying over spilled milk,” jonghyun jokes to him, but taemin just keeps crying anyway. jonghyun figures he’s probably too young to even understand the joke. “hey, it’s really alright. please don’t cry.”

“i spilled it everywhere!” taemin cries, his little hands balling up into fists so he can rub at his eyes. “i made a mess!”

“it’s okay, it all got cleaned up,” jonghyun tells him. “we’ll go home and get your clothes all cleaned up, and then we’ll finish eating, okay?”

taemin just keeps crying.

he’s calmed down a bit by the time they get to jonghyun’s house, but jonghyun still carries him inside anyway. he finds a t-shirt that taemin can wear in the meantime, and it falls over his little knees while jonghyun puts his chocolate milk soaked clothes in the wash.

taemin is still pouty and upset, though, even after they finish the rest of their food and play with the toy taemin got in his happy meal. 

jonghyun has him watching some cartoon on the couch when he goes to put the clothes into the dryer, and that’s when kibum rings the door bell.

“don’t tell key!” taemin pleads with jonghyun. “don’t tell him i made a mess!”

“taeminnie, buddy, it was just an accident,” jonghyun tells him, smoothing back his hair. “you’re not in any trouble.”

jonghyun goes to answer the door, and when kibum goes into the living room to see taemin sitting in one of jonghyun’s shirts, he sends a questioning look to jonghyun.

“that cannot be what my mother sent him to school in this morning,” kibum says.

taemin bursts into tears at that, and kibum rushes to him and sends the most distrusting look to jonghyun.

“what happened, baby, where are your clothes?” kibum whispers to him, and he holds taemin close to him.

“i spilled chocolate milk on them!” taemin cries, his voice shaking and his eyes closed tightly. kibum lets out a sigh of relief, and he pulls back from taemin to send him a slightly annoyed look.

“why are you crying over that?” kibum asks him. “is that all that happened?”

“mommy said to be more careful,” taemin says, gasping between each word, “and i spilled it!”

“baby, it was an accident,” kibum tells him. “it’s okay, i won’t tell mommy.”

taemin just keeps crying, and kibum holds him close to his chest and pats his back.

“taeminnie, did you nap during nap time today?”

“no!”

kibum sends a smirk to jonghyun when he realizes that’s what’s got taemin so upset, and he pats taemin’s back a little bit more before sitting on the couch and putting taemin on his lap.

“i just put his clothes in the dryer,” jonghyun tells him.

“so we’re here for another hour?” kibum asks.

“just about”

“taeminnie,” kibum starts in a quiet voice, pulling taemin’s face out from his chest so that the little boy will look at him, “do you wanna hear a story?”

“mmhmm,” taemin hums and nods his head.

“well, once upon a time,” kibum starts, and he tells one of the fairy tales taemin likes to hear before bed.

he’s conked out in no time, and kibum nearly snorts at the sleeping little boy in his arms.

“he becomes a drama queen when he doesn’t get his nap,” kibum whispers to jonghyun.

“good to know,” jonghyun whispers back.

they put taemin in one of jonghyun’s spare bedrooms, and when the two of them sit on the couch, jonghyun turns to kibum and grins.

“did you know he still calls me ‘key’s boyfriend’?”

kibum lets out an embarrassingly loud snort and chokes back a laugh. after a moment, kibum composes himself and loooks at jonghyun.

“he’s quite the character.”

“so i’ve gathered.”

they both grin at each other, laughing at how silly kibum’s little brother is, and then they turn on the tv and wait for taemin’s clothes to be dry and for the little boy to wake up from his nap.