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aftermathfanfic · 6 months

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D&Ducks

So, I was originally going to make this post for when I hit 300 followers, but I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon, and I’ve been thinking about this for way too long, so fuck it. I’m just gonna post this now and see what happens.

In case it wasn’t obvious from the hints I’ve scattered through Aftermath, I am a huge D&D nerd. I love playing the game, I love running the game, I love the monsters, everything. And what I particularly love doing is building characters and monsters for the game. I use a lot of custom monsters for the games that I run, even though I don’t end up using all of them, and what I’ve done in the past is that I created character sheets and stat blocks for some of our favourite anthropomorphic ducks. In fact, on my main blog, I documented a solo adventure that I ran by myself, for myself, in story format as I put these duck characters through a premade advennture! (I eventually stopped, because playing a D&D game by yourself is as dull as it sounds)

So today, I’m going to revisit those roots and lay out how I would build the Ducktales characters as tabletop RPG player characters! This is something I’ve given way too much thought to, so be warned – this is going to be quite long-winded, with little to nothing to do with Aftermath itself, and of interest to only a small subset of people.

Let’s begin!

The Basics

I want to preface this whole thing by mentioning that while I’m going to try and describe these characters in a way that can be transposed onto any RPG system, I’m going to be using the Pathfinder RPG (1st edition) as a basis for these characters, just because it’s what I’m most familiar with at the moment. The basics are the same – roll a 20-sided dice, add a number and hope to get a big enough total – but there are more nitty-gritty rules and it's way easier to kill off your characters.

Another thing to keep in mind is that I’ll be inserting these characters into a D&D setting of my own creation, rather than any pre-existing settings. I don’t have a name for it, but essentially this setting is an undisciplined mix-and-match of characters from different IPs that interest me. The McDucks, in this setting, live as a powerful noble family in a kingdom of united beast-folk families.

Final thing is that even though these guys are anthropomorphic ducks, they’re going to have the racial traits of humans to make things simpler on me. I’ll also be giving them a swim speed of 15 feet in addition to those traits.

Dewey

This spry duck stands with the cockiness of an ambitious hero, a sword in each hand. A bright blue tabard, tattered from numerous skirmishes, flows down his chest to cover steel armour of haphazard construction.

Age: 16 Alignment: Chaotic Good Class/Level: Fighter 3/Bard 1 Ability Scores: STR 16, DEX 16, CON 14, INT 10, WIS 8, CHA 14

In this world, the triplets were raised by their uncle Donald in a quiet fishing village on the outskirts of the city of Duckland, in the providence of Calisota. They never got so much as a hint of their caretaker’s history as an adventurer, not until they found their uncle’s old adventuring gear, stowed away in the attic of their house. Among this gear was two finely made swords, both of which Dewey snatched up and started swinging around – resulting in the destruction of several family items and the near decapitation of Huey. Donald was forced to tell the triplets of his past as an adventurer, and the revelation shook them to the core. To make up for it, he decided to teach them how to adventure properly, in the hopes that if they wouldn’t be persuaded out of their trouble-making instincts, he could at least teach them to be safe while doing it.

Dewey remains the chief chaos-monger of the triplets. Ambitious and eager to live up to his family name, Dewey often throws himself into danger without hesitation, giving no thought to possible traps, uneven terrain, or indeed, the strength of whoever he’s fighting against compared to his own. He makes up for his recklessness by being virtually untouchable in a fight, deflecting swords, claws and spells with his twin swords. The longer blade, named Helios, was once wielded by his Uncle Donald. The shorter blade, Asteria, was his mother’s.

Against intelligent foes, Dewey never fights to kill – a trait unique to the McDuck adventurers – but rather, he tries to disarm and trip his foes, intimidating them into surrender. He’s remarkably acrobatic, and his fights are often performative in nature – hence his level in Bard. The sheer bravado he displays in combat inspires his family to fight even more fiercely and distracts his foes long enough for him to knock the wind out of them.

Huey

This anxious duck wears a heavy breastplate and a red cap, a collapsible spear slung around his back. He holds a large, heavy book bound in red leather with the letters ‘WJW’ imprinted upon it.

Age: 16 Alignment: Neutral Good Class/Level: Cleric 2/Wizard 2 Ability Scores: STR 14, DEX 10, CON 12, INT 16, WIS 15, CHA 13

Though regarded as a do-gooder by his brothers, Huey Duck is just as brave, ambitious and adventurous as the other McDucks. He took the role of the older brother quickly, seeing himself as a caretaker of his brothers and, prior to moving into Manor McDuck, the fixer-upper of torn clothes, broken furniture, and the like. With a resourcefulness and intellect beyond his years, Huey takes the role as both the primary healer of the party and – when the occasion calls for it – the firepower.

Huey originally had his heart set on joining the Woodchuck rangers, a group of survivalists and wilderness protectors on the outskirts of the world. While there, he met clerics and priests of Artemis, goddess of the hunt, with whom he made a rapport with. He even began to learn the ways of these wilder clerics, learning magic that could heal, magic that could wound, and magic that let him shape the natural world around him. In the end, however, he was rejected by the rangers, for while his survival skills were impeccable, his fighting prowess left much to be desired. Disheartened, but determined to make use of what he’d learned, he continued his studies of the ways of Artemis, delving deeply into his survival skills and the art of restorative magic.

At some point during his escapades with his uncle, Lord Scrooge McDuck, Huey became enamoured with the other side of magic – that of the arcane. He poured over arcane tomes, taking on wizardly studies in addition to his clerical practices. He has recently begun leaning more heavily towards wizardry, for while he’s grateful to Artemis for his abilities, he considers the goddess to be more of a tutor than an idol to be worshipped. He’ll never be the strongest of Artemis’s faithful, and he’s made peace with that – wizards get more exciting spells, anyway.

Louie

This youthful duck leans against the alley wall, his head concealed by a dark green hood. He smirks at you, absent-mindedly flipping a coin up and down in the air.

Age: 16 Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Class/Level: Rogue 3/Sorcerer 1 Ability Scores: STR 9, DEX 15, CON 12, INT 12, WIS 13, CHA 18

Thief. Charlatan. Snake. Louie Duck has been called many things, and he’s never let any of it stick. He’s out for himself and his family first, and what he’s out for is treasure. Coins, gems, jewellery – he doesn’t care. He loves it all. He’ll do the right thing for his family (though not without a fair share of grumbling), but he always makes sure he gets something out of it, and he isn’t above guilting or threatening the other party into upping his eventual reward.

Louie is a rogue. Obviously. He specializes in deceit, coercion, lock- and trap-picking, and even forging documents, if the opportunity is ripe. He tries to avoid combat if he can help it, but when he’s eventually forced into it, he relies on being able to feint against his opponents to catch them off-guard. When this doesn’t work, his alternative strategy is to bamboozle his foe, trying to convince them that he’s on their side, or that there’s a bugbear behind him, or that they don’t really want to hurt him. And when that fails, he panics, runs away, and then takes potshots from afar with his crossbow.

During one of the family’s adventures, Louie came really close to death. A screeching owlbear had ambushed the party and cornered Louie alone. Disarmed, wounded, and terrified, Louie tapped into something dormant deep inside him and – with a pop – vanished. He re-appeared a mere five seconds later, but that five seconds was all his family needed to redirect the beast’s attention and save his life. Since then, Louie has continued to delve into his hereto unknown sorcerous powers, learning more and more about them each time he calls upon them.

Webby

This wild-looking duck girl wears a loose-fitting pink blouse and a purple skirt, with a matching pink tie in her headfeathers. She gets into a battle stance, grinning eagerly.

Age: 15 Alignment: Chaotic Good Class/Level: Ninja 4 Ability Scores: STR 14, DEX 17, CON 14, INT 13, WIS 12, CHA 12

Webby is as wild, excitable and knowledgeable as she is in canon, raised in the manor of Lord McDuck and trained by her grandmother to be a silent and deadly assassin of House McDuck. To Lady Beakley’s disappointment, while Webby has proven to have mastered the arts of stealth and disguise, she's really squeamish about killing people for some reason.

Webby takes after her granny as a highly skilled ninja – a class somewhere between the monk and the rogue. A master of stealth, disguise, martial arts and more, Webby may not seem like it, but she’s one of the most accomplished spies Lady Beakley has ever had the privilege of training. Moreover, her training allows her to access a limited well of mystical energy that allows her to perform impossible acts. Her preferred method of attack is to overwhelm her foes with quick, rapid strikes before retreating into the shadows and hiding before they realise what happened.

Aside from being an incredible warrioress, Webby also fancies herself as an amateur historian and lorekeeper – particularly when it comes to the McDuck family history. The arcane and the occult may be guesswork to her, but ask her to name an ancestor of Clan McDuck, and she’ll give you the entire genealogical tree. She knows about every single historical event that happened in Duckland, and she can name all the native monsters in the area, right down to their weaknesses, habitats, diets, and the best method to befriend them (just in case).

Scrooge McDuck

This elderly duck stands with the pride and confidence of an experienced adventurer. His cane, cloak, top hat and bright red plate armour all combine to make an imposing figure out of this old duck.

Age: ??? Alignment: Neutral Good Class/Level: Fighter 6/Rogue 4/Duellist 10 Ability Scores: STR 11, DEX 10, CON 8, INT 15, WIS 15, CHA 16

Ruling from McDuck Manor, Scrooge is the Lord of Duckland, and one of the most powerful and influential figures in Calisota. With a manor full of artifacts, treasures and magical items, he is known throughout the land as the Richest Duck in the World, and you’d be hard-pressed to deny it. This Scrooge is mostly unchanged from the one we all know and love from canon, except this Scrooge has an army of trained soldiers, a cabal of ingenious wizards, and a small cabinet of assassins who have one loyalty and one alone – House McDuck.

You may not have heard of the Duellist class if you’ve only come in from D&D 5th edition. Honestly, you might not have heard of it even if you haven’t. The Duellist is a prestige class, one you can only take levels in if you meet the specific prerequisites, whose abilities allow Scrooge to fight with a flourish. He fights like the heroic swordsmen of old, parrying aside the blades of his foes and deftly moving around them before they can even pinpoint where he is. He fights not with a traditional blade, but with a sword concealed within his cane – a gift, from the late Ludwig Von Drake.

Other D&D aficionados may also notice that Scrooge’s physical abilities are a bit low – that, unfortunately, is due to his venerable age. In Pathfinder, your physical abilities reduce with age, while your mental abilities improve. In his prime, Scrooge’s ability scores were STR 17, DEX 16, CON 14, INT 12, WIS 12 and CHA 13, but the days of his prime are long behind him. For this reason, before going into battle, he typically equips himself with a Belt of Physical Perfection, restoring his physical prowess to what it was as a young lad. I know canon Scrooge doesn’t like to use magic (and he still doesn’t here), but that’s… really not an option in a fantasy RPG like this.

Donald Duck

With an incoherent squawking sound, this sailor rushes into the fray, swinging his fists wildly and leaping onto his foes.

Age: 42 Alignment: Neutral Good Class/Level: Barbarian 12 Ability Scores: STR 15, DEX 11, CON 13, INT 10, WIS 15, CHA 13

This good-natured, short-tempered, and risk-averse fisherman may not seem like much at first glance, but he was, in fact, once an adventurer. And as far as the rest of his family are concerned, he still is. Once a sailor for the House McDuck navy, Donald retired from his adventuring life after his twin sister, Della, was lost to the Astral Plane in an impromptu expedition gone wrong. Though he was pulled back into the adventuring life by his triplet nephews, he has never lost his cautious edge, and he remains as the most responsible member of the McDuck family.

Donald fights as he does in canon – by flying into a rage and launching himself at his opponent. He punches, kicks, bites, trips, and attacks every part he can get a hold of. In the old days, he used to use an enchanted sword, though it has been so long since he picked up the blade that much of its magic has disappeared. Nowadays, he relies on a pair of enchanted cestuses, which are essentially medieval boxing gloves with metal plates and rivets.

Mrs. Beakley

This enormous, bulky woman looms over you, her cold gaze peering into your soul. Despite her housekeeper attire, she stands tall and rigid like a soldier, and the sheathed sword on her belt does not escape your attention.

Age: Late 70s/early 80s Alignment: Lawful Neutral Class/Level: Ninja 16 Ability Scores: STR 14, DEX 8, CON 8, INT 15, WIS 17, CHA 11

Mrs. Bentina Beakley, unmarried, is the silent right hand of Lord McDuck. On the surface, she is merely the housekeeper of the manor. Beneath that, however, Beakley becomes a terrifyingly effective spymaster who has her eyes everywhere throughout the realm. Though her days as an assassin are over, she remains a cold, clever, yet surprisingly empathetic figure – so much so that she was willing to give up her career to raise a young Webby Vanderquack.

Like Scrooge, Bentina has suffered from reductions to her physical abilities from her old age, in exchange for bonuses to her mental ability scores. Her abilities in her prime were STR 20, DEX 14, CON 14, INT 12, WIS 14, CHA 8. Unlike Scrooge, she does not have any magic that can improve her abilities, but she also doesn’t see the need to. She fancies herself more of a ‘behind-the-scenes’ person these days, managing an intricate network of spies and blades for hire, gathering blackmail and intelligence for use against the enemies of House McDuck.

Launchpad

The friendly airship pilot waves at you from the cockpit, oblivious to the fact that he’s flying you directly into a mountain.

Age: 31 Alignment: Lawful Good Class/Level: Commoner 5 Ability Scores: STR 12, DEX 11, CON 17, INT 8, WIS 11, CHA 13

Launchpad remains the happy-go-lucky guy he is in canon, save that he now pilots an airship instead of an airplane. And rest assured, he is just as unqualified to fly it as ever.

#ducktales 2017 #ducktales d&d #dt17 #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #webby vanderquack #scrooge mcduck #donald duck #mrs beakley #launchpad mcquack #pathfinder #d&d #I even made a map for the D&D world this is set in #never finished it though #I also made character sheets in case anyone wants a look

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i-guess-im-into-this-now · 28 days

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The Apothecary Diaries

S1E16 First Watch

Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.

To start at the beginning:

Episode 1

My character/locations cheat sheet

Suiren - Jinshi's attendant

Lakan - mysterious officer

Basan - an officer who works in the palace

Jinshi is deeply divided on whether he should have allowed Lakan access to Maomao. He's going to feel pretty guilty if things go badly.

Jinshi explains the details of the case of the metalworker's estate to Maomao. She's always interested in a mystery.

Jinshi: What's with all the sudden enthusiasm?

Dude is asking a question he knows the answer to.

Solving mysteries is where Maomao shines. Jinshi knows this better than anyone. It's one of the things that knocked him head-over-heels for this lady. But he's a little ticked at how easily Lakan was able to hook Maomao's interest. Lakan who hasn't even met Maomao yet, knew exactly how to lure her out. Perhaps Jinshi was hoping that Maomao would refuse, and release him from the deal he made with Lakan. Why did he agree to this? Jinshi is supremely uneasy with all of it.

As the conversation progresses Jinshi takes a more comfortable position on the couch, no longer bothering to behave as a proper palace official or even an employer in front of Maomao. Rather his pose is more like the casual sprawling one might do with family or friends. Jinshi is so persistent in how he stays open and inviting to Maomao, even in his body language. In this scene, Maomao is kneeling properly at the low table. Her body language is formal.

Lakan had provided an address to follow up with the mystery if it intrigued Maomao.

Maomao: How well prepared. It's like he anticipated this happening.

I do not like this at all. This Lakan is too good at maneuvering Maomao and Jinshi.

Maomao request a day off to look in to the case, and Jinshi is not happy. Not because she's missing work around the residence, but because she walked so willingly into Lakan's well laid plan for her. He's probably also pissed at himself for allowing this, but apparently Jinshi really wants to know the rest of Lakan's courtesan story. Jinshi can't see what Lakan has planned, and he's very worried about Maomao. Suiren is completely fine with Maomao leaving. Smiling and waving? Is she actually happy that Maomao is leaving, or is she looking forward to drowning her in work when she returns? I can't read her yet. I miss Lady Gyokuyou and the Jade Pavilion ladies who were so sweet.

Basan. Another mystery. Damn those golden eyes! Who else had eyes like that?! Maomao said he looks familiar, and he does, but like who? Gaaaaah!

Basan is suppose to escort Maomao on her investigation, and he's still acting like an ass, and I'm still wondering when I can see Jinshi fight him again. Maomao says she can tolerate his bad attitude, since she views him as harmless. That's good, because sometimes with trauma, especially from sexual trauma, aggression can be a trigger. I don't like that she has to just put up with this guy's pissy attitude.

Fuck me, Basan and Gaoshun?! Well a blood relationship between the two at least explains why Jinshi and Gaoshun feel comfortable letting this guy go all around the palace with Maomao. Is Basan a child of Gaoshun or like a nephew or something? Is this going to be enough for Maomao to at least question if Gaoshun is a eunuch or not? No. The answer is no, but she should!

Of course Maomao solves the mystery that was left by the metalworker for his sons. A majority of this episode is spent unraveling this mystery, but as far as I can tell the details aren't important to the larger story, so I'm not going to bother describing the twists and turn of it. Basically we get to see how a father would rather go to extreme lengths to create a puzzle for his sons to try to solve upon his death, then give them words of encouragement or advice while he was still alive. The youngest son tries to reconcile the family by passing on compliments he heard his father say in private and never directly to his children. Maomao wisely bows out of that bullshit, but suggests they seek medical treatment from Luomen if they develop symptoms like their father had.

On the return trip, Basan gives Maomao a considering look. Perhaps he's starting to see how brilliant and capable she is? Maybe he will try to rein in his bad attitude where it comes to Maomao? Or maybe... he will fall in love with her! I don't know why I'm looking for more drama from this show, it's already angsty enough. Even so, maybe a romantic rival would help push Jinshi and Maomao past the standstill they've come to.

Lakan is back. He thanks Jinshi for Maomao's work, which I understand within the context of this show, but it still pisses me off. It smacks of misogyny as it's a subtle way of affirming Jinshi's ownership of Maomao, and demonstrates Lakan's lack of respect for women and servants.

Lakan then goes on to explain what happened sounding far too pleased, like he's already gotten everything he wanted. Jinshi knows all of this is part of a stratagem from Lakan, but what his goal is, is yet unclear. Jinshi doesn't know what happened on Maomao's outing (in his head he refers to her as "the apothecary," here which I find odd). She never reported back about her findings. And maybe that is what has Lakan looking so smug. He's uncovered that truth that Maomao is Jinshi's courtesan in name only. And even though Jinshi may be trying to hide what he feels for Maomao from Lakan, I'm sure Lakan is aware. Maomao is a soft spot to attack or control Jinshi.

Jinshi notes that Lakan is very good at discovering people with talent. And now his attention has landed on Maomao. He talks about the three sons each finding their proper place, and I can't help but think that Lakan believes "finding one's proper place," also applies to Maomao and Jinshi. It's possible that Lakan is insinuating something to Jinshi about him not being in his proper place; perhaps he knows something about Jinshi's true identity. But more likely Lakan is thinking that Maomao is not in her proper place here in Jinshi's residence. Lakan gave her a test and he was delighted by her ability to pass it. Does he intend to remove Maomao from Jinshi's employ? This guy is definitely not done with Maomao.

Lakan: The late metalworker's creations were absolutely remarkable though. There was this simple looking metal piece, that when combined with a ritual utensil... it looked truly magnificent.

I don't know what that thing is, but Lakan's scuzzy look combined with Jinshi's disgust is enough to tell me it's something terrible. What kind of ritual are they talking about here? Jinshi straight up lets us know that this is beneath him. What kind of ritual would be something that someone in Jinshi's position would never use? Jinshi knows that Lakan knows that this is not relevant or appropriate. Lakan so very clearly said it to see how Jinshi would react. And Jinshi is doing his best to hide his thoughts and reactions, but I get the feeling that Lakan can see everything. I can only guess based on the way my stomach feels nauseous watching this exchange that this item is used for something heinous like slavery or rape. Props to the storytellers here for freaking me out. I hope I'm wrong and the horrid thing is a spoon rest.

Lakan: I simply can't abide good talent being kept buried. ... Those who possess genius should receive the appropriate praise and attention.

He's going to take Maomao! Stop him Jinshi!

And Jinshi is actually VERY interested in Lakan's method of decreasing a courtesan's value. Is it that Maomao still owes money at Verdigris House? Is this time now at Jinshi's residence just boughten time, and not the end of her contract? Is this why Jinshi wants to know how to bring her price down? Does Lakan know that Maomao may still have a debt to Verdigris House?! Does he plan to buy out the rest of her time?! Hell no! I won't accept that! What the hell is happening?!

Lakan doesn't want to admit to the fucked up thing he did to that courtesan, so he tells Jinshi to ask Maomao how to reduce her price. This guy is terrible. He told Jinshi his messed up story then left off the part that Jinshi most wanted to know, with a promise to tell him if he could have a chance to test Maomao. Which Jinshi agreed to. When Maomao fulfilled her part, Lakan goes back on his word and refuses to say. Utter trash. And Jinshi let himself be sucked into Lakan's game. I hate all of this.

Then Lakan leaves a beverage for Jinshi's "serving maids," i.e. Maomao. WTF. I am so creeped out by this guy.

Lakan: Farewell. Until tomorrow that is.

Yeah, we're not getting rid of this guy any time soon.

Jinshi collapses the instant Lakan leaves. Yes, Jinshi is going to have to continue to deal with this nightmare who keeps making Jinshi's life difficult, but what is really bothering Jinshi is that he knows he fucked up. Lakan came to see how interested Jinshi is in his concubine, and baited him with his own story about a courtesan. And Jinshi showed him, that he is actually very interested in Maomao. Jinshi also let Lakan take Maomao's measure, knowing this guy has a knack for determining and using such talents. Jinshi is definitely going to blame himself for putting Maomao in this guys sights.

Gaoshun makes a request of Jinshi, that we don't get to hear about, but in the very next scene Jinshi is changing his clothes and asking Maomao to help him with some makeup so is he planning to go out in disguise somewhere? Is he going to visit the annex (one of these episodes will show me what it is!)? What did Gaoshun say to Jinshi? I guess we will find out next time, since that's where the episode ends!

I'm so creeped out by Lakan, but it feels like we are about to get into some plot stuff now, so I'm excited for that.

To start at the beginning:

Episode 1

Next Episode:

Episode 17

#the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries #maomao #jinshi x maomao #jinshi #jinmao

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malarkgirlypop · 6 months

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MEDIC! Part 19 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Ok guys just read this one really quick so I can upload Chapter 20, ok, cool, you got it. Great, alright read fast!

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.Keep reading

Tag list: @next-autopsy, @panzershrike-pretz, @xxluckystrike, @bucky32557038ww2 (let me know if you want to be tagged.)

I hurried along the streets, saying hello to the men I passed. I finally made it to the house. Hearing familiar voices from the upper room I made my way up the staircase.

“Ah there she is. We were wondering where you disappeared too.” Babe said as I reached the top.

“I’m a busy bee Babe, you should know that.” I sat next to the man, who perched on the edge of the bunk.

“Oh, bunk beds.” I said bouncing up and down on the mattress, it squeaked under me.

“Saved you the lower bunk under me.” Babe told me. I smiled at him, giving his hair a tousle.

“Ah you’re a sweetheart.” He grinned at me. I glanced across the room to see Don standing on the far side looking out the window smoking. A solemn expression visible on his features. I watched him just smoking.

“He’s been like that since we started coming from Rachamps.” Babe whispered to me, I nodded agreeing with him. I don’t know what happened. Was it because he knew I was ok, he finally let himself process. If that was the case I feel awful, they were his friends before I was close with them. I let it cloud my thoughts so much I couldn’t even ensure that he was fine. Now he’s stepping back from me, is that what he wants? I need to talk to him, but I can’t get him alone at the moment, now that he’s a ranking officer it seems like everyone needs to talk to him. I have barely been able to have a moment with him without someone else requesting him. They obviously take priority over me. Babe’s hand landed on my knee giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ll find some time.” He says as if he can read my thoughts. I nod, turning my attention back onto the conversation the men are having as they all lie on the bunks. I’m so excited to be able to sleep on a bed with a pillow and sheets. Even if it is some crappy thin mattress, better than the cold hard floor.

“Oh My God! I forgot to say, you’ll never guess what Webster said to me.” I announced to the group. They all waited for me to tell them. “Well firstly he was like, ‘when did nurses work on the front?’ So I corrected him. But then he said, ‘oh yeah I remember you, wow I’m surprised you’re still alive’.” I waited for their response, my mouth open to show my shocked face.

“What?!” Babe said from beside me.

“You’re joking?” Grant asked, I shook my head.

“That cheeky fucker.” Lieb growled.

“I know! I was like excuse me! Rude!” I scoffed while laughing. “I think he’s being put with us.” I also told them, a collective groan echoed around the room. I laughed at their enthusiasm.

“Oh speak of the devil.” I motioned with my head to the door, as Webster and Jones wandered in looking dazed.

“Hey, guys. This taken?” He asked about the top bunk no one had claimed yet.

“Go ahead.” Rameriz told him, lying down on his own bunk. Webster threw his bag onto the bed claiming it for his own.

“Sergeant, this is Lieutenant Jones, just assigned to 2nd platoon.” Webster informed Malarkey. All eyes were on the pair. The men in the corner who were helping themselves to hot drinks and standing around the heater, eyed up the young Lieutenant.

“Malarkey, platoon Sergeant.” Don said.

“Congratulations on the battlefield commission.” Jones said, reaching out his hand to shake Don’s. I watched as Malarkey glanced at the outstretched hand looking confused.

“The what?” Malarkey asked, shaking his hand.

“They’re making you an officer, no?” Jones inquired. Lieb sniggerd into his cup, as Webster turned around to glare at him. Realising too late that Lieb was just fucking with him.

“Me? No.” Malarkey chuckled, looking back to see Grant and Lieb trying to hide their grins. “You must be thinking of First Sergeant Lipton.” Jones and Webster share a glance, clearly Webster had passed on the information that Lieb had given him this morning to the officer, only to be very wrong. Webster gave a defeated shrug and shake of his head.

“My mistake.” Jones apologised to Don. “So you’re without a platoon leader?”

“No, not anymore, Lieutenant.” Don said to the officer.

“Right.” Jones nodded as if he seemingly forgot his rank. “So do you want to introduce me to the men?” He asked. Don gave him a tight smile, he was busy and so were the men.

“Well, some of them are sleeping downstairs. The rest are right here.” Jones glanced around the room looking at the men, who gave him small nods as they made eye-contact. His eyes landed on me, I gave a small smile.

“A female.” He said, looking at me. Don turned around to look at him. “Our medic, Emily.”

“Odd for a female to be on the front.” Jones said without thinking. The chatter ceased in the room, waiting for him to say something else.

“She’s a good medic, we’re lucky to have her.” Don said, sending me a smile. I grinned back appreciative of his defence.

“What? Is it be mean to Emily day?” I whispered to Babe, who just chuckled, shaking his head continuing to read the comic he had picked up. Jones cleared his throat moving on from the awkward conversation he’d started.

“Sergeant, a patrol’s being planned for tonight 0100 hours across the river. Regiment wants POWs for interrogation. What’s the situation?” Jones asked, the men moving their conversation somewhere more private, away from listening ears. The men all looked pissed, they again were being chosen to go on an attack.

“Hey Web. Come here. I just want to talk to you for a sec” Lieb pulled the man from over by the window. Webster seemed rightly suspicious of Lieb’s motives. “Why?” He asked, resisting Lieb’s arm that snaked around his neck trying to drag him elsewhere.

“Come here, You want some coffee.” Lieb offered as he ushered him to the bunks Babe and I sat on.

“No.” Web said, stepping out of the man’s arm.

“Is this kid out of highschool yet?” Lieb asked Webster. They both looked over to the young officer who was speaking with Malarkey.

“He’s out of West Point.” Webster informed the men.

“West Point?” Lieb asked. I have no idea what West Point is.

“Isn’t that where Ike went?” Jackson said from above me, spread out on the top bunk.

Babe, now more invested in the conversation, put down the comic I was reading over his shoulder. Lieb stood right in front of me as he spoke to Webster, I couldn’t see anything past his butt. I leaned more into Babe so that I didn’t feel like I was being suffocated by Joe’s ass.

“Yeah he actually graduated with his son.” Webster confirmed Jackson’s question.

“Shit, so ah… what do you know about this patrol thing?” Lieb’s true motive revealed themselves, his cunning ability to coerce information out of you.

“Uh, nothing.” Webster lied. I laughed, shaking my head. Oh poor sweet Webster you can’t get out of it this easily, not with Lieb you can’t.

“Oh, come on, Web. You gotta know something.” Ramirez adds to the peer pressure.

“I don’t.” Webster turns away fiddling with his bag.

Lieb spits on the ground, I nudge him with my foot, mouthing gross. He just smirks at me.

“Bullshit.” Lieb says. “You were there right? At the CP?” Chuck moves past us heading for the exit.

“Hey, Chuck, Listen to this.” Babe calls to him, he stops to listen. McClung sits beside Babe as we scooch down the bunk to make room.

“Come on, Webster, spill it.” Lieb is persistent with his interrogation. And now with everyone gathered around eager to hear, I’m sure he feels even more pressured. I can see his eyes finally give into it.

“Captain Speirs is to pick 15 men. Lt. Jones wants to be one of them.” Webster casted his gaze to the man who still spoke with Don.

“I say let the kid go. He could use the experience.” Lieb said.

“Probably could find 14 replacements to help him out.” Ramirez grinned.

“Why are you holding out on me? I know you know.” Lieb grilled Webster.

“Just give us the names, Web.” Ramirez and Lieb had him backed into a metaphorical corner.

“Who?” Lieb asked.

Webster glanced around all of us, our eyes trained on him, he had the answers. We waited patiently knowing that Lieb and Ramirez would break him at some point.

“There are three men here in this room that they think should be on the patrol.” Webster started.

“Who?” Ramirez asked, was there a bunch of owls somewhere? I laughed at my own joke. Babe gave me a weird look, wondering why I was chuckling. I’m funny ok! I cleared my throat paying attention again to the conversation.

“Well, if I tell you, you can’t let on that you know.” Webster stalled.

“Your secret’s safe, Web. Who is it?” Lieb promised. I almost laughed again, as if he would keep his mouth shut for Webster. But Webster was gullible enough to believe that Lieb would have his best interests at heart. Webster glanced at Babe sitting next to me. Babe shook his head, he didn’t want to be chosen, he was waiting for his name not to be called. I tensed, I wasn’t particularly keen on any of the men being sent but especially not Babe.

“Yeah, Heffron.” Webster confirmed our fears.

“Aw, shit.” Babe groaned, dragging his hand across his face. I sighed along with Babe who looked disappointed. This time I was the one to give him a pat of reassurance on his leg. McClung, who sat on his other side, threw an arm around his shoulders.

“McClung…” Webster continued, Earl also groaned in annoyance. Babe slapped his leg, in a well-were-in-this-together-now way.

“And you.” Webster said to Ramirez, looking equally as disappointed as the other two.

“He want any other guys from any other platoon?” Lieb asked, looking down into his cup of coffee.

“No, no. I don’t know. Not that I know of. Look, that’s all I know, I’m sorry.” Webster rambled on, trying to prove to Lieb he didn’t have any more information for him to draw out.

I almost leaped off the bed when Don yelled, “Listen up!” I grabbed onto Babe's arm out of instinct. Covering my heart with my other hand, to stop it jumping out of my chest.

“Got some bad news. There is a patrol set for tonight. And so far, Speirs wants McClung–” Don told the room. But was interrupted.

“We know.” McClung told Don.

“Yeah, we just fucking heard. Webster here told us.” Babe blabbed, so much for keeping it a secret. But Babe and Earl never made any promises to the man, only Lieb.

Don answers the ringing phone, mumbling into it. He hangs up quickly, having more information to give us. “The PX rations just came in, including winter shoe packs.” Don informs us.

“Beautiful.” Ramirez says sarcastically.

“Yeah, finally right?” Don agrees.

“Good of ‘em, now we’re in a nice warm house.” Lieb adds.

“Also we get showers.” Don tells us. I gasp so loudly everyone stares at me. Pure delightment on my face.

“We get showers!” I say excitedly. I feel like I can bounce off the walls. A shower sounds amazing. I make quiet screaming noises. I feel like a kid on christmas. Everyone watches me have my mini celebration. I stop mid party, “Sorry, I’m just really excited to have a shower.”

“Yeah, no we can tell.” Lieb laughs at me, patting me on the head.

“You’re so cute!” Babe teases trying to pinch my cheeks, I fend him off. Before he can reach me the distant sounds of explosions boom through the room. The sounds of whistling are closer, the sound of a bomb being dropped in close proximity.

“All right, let's move! Clear it out! Move, move!” Don yells over the noise. We get to our feet, rushing out of the top room into the lower floors. Babe is behind me pushing me down the stairs faster than my feet can take me. We barge into the basement taking cover. Everyone yelling at everyone to get down, take cover, incoming. The bombs stop right as we reach the room. I laugh in disbelief of course it would stop right as we are safe. Everyone else had the same reaction, well except for Jones and Webster. They both looked like they were about to faint from shock.

“Showers let’s go!” Don ushered us out. I was quickly on my feet, yes showers, omg I want to wash my hair, and body. Omg maybe shave my legs with running water.

#guys just read it real fast #or don't maybe just pretend you did #the next couple of chapter are fun again #not just fillers #I know their good cause i cried while writing #which normally means they aren't boring #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #donald malarkey #hbo war #band of brothers imagine #fanfic #joe toye #bill guarnere #dick winters #emarkey #emily lane

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the-silly-urge · 7 months

Text

Hag-Eyed and Volo's Ersatz Eye cosmetics

Okay making this post because I haven't seen anyone do it and I've wanted it to be a thing so many times I might as well do it myself! This will include images of the cosmetics on all viable companions as well as player races with unique eyes.

Volo's Ersatz Eye:

Player races (Dragonborn, Githyanki, Tiefling) Volo cares not for the color of your sclera.

Origin Characters Karlach's has the slit pupil! As does Lae'zel's!

Hag-Eyed:

Player races (Dragonborn, Githyanki, Tiefling) The eye didn't show up in Magic Mirror for my Tiefling so this is a dialog screenshot- sorry

Origin Characters

Wyll isn't included due to not having a good eye to spare and as such being barred from both eye replacements. Minthara, Halsin, and Jaheira will refuse to obtain Volo's eye, and I'm not sure it's possible to get any of them to the Hag. Minthara maybe... But I don't have a file in which I could test it.

Additional context below + how to obtain both eyes if you need it. -(Will contain a GIF)

Volo's Ersatz Eye: You will first find Volo in the Emerald Grove, and if you talk to him, he will explain that he's going to visit the Goblin Camp. When you find him there, interact with him, and then rescue him. He'll eventually be at your camp, and you can talk to him about your affliction and he'll say he can fix it. Once you've had a Long Rest, talk to him again and he'll propose to do surgery on you. From what I understand, the scene is very graphic both visually and in narration, and is also pretty long. If you have issues with eye trauma like I do, I recommend covering your screen with a sheet or enlisting a more confident friend to tell you when it's done... (You do need to pick dialog options though) Anyways, once you've had that impromptu surgery, Volo will offer to replace your eye with a relic as payback. This eye gives you a permanent See Invisibility condition, as well as the cosmetic change, which makes it a net positive. Though I believe companions do disapprove of the surgery.

Little bit of a closer look at the Ersatz eye on a Dragonborn... It doesn't glow and it's not animated, but doesn't have a visible sclera. You can get this effect normally by selecting "human" eye colors. It doesn't really match with classic DB eyes though. EDIT - The Ersatz Eye seems to always have a slightly green-tinted sclera when the sclera is visible. You can only really tell up close, but it's worth noting I guess.

Hag's Eye: The Hag's Eye can be obtained in the Sunlit Wetlands after talking to Auntie Ethel in the Emerald Grove. Just go to the quest marker there. Going through with this will give you the Hag-Eyed tag and the "Paid the Price" condition. Unlike with Volo's Ersatz Eye, you get to pick which of your eyes is replaced. The condition will give you a +1 to Intimidation, Disadvantage on perception checks, and Disadvantage on attacks against Hags. In Early Access, it made it impossible to land Critical Hits, but as far as I can tell this is no longer a thing! (Also fun fact- After giving the Hag their eye, all the companions have custom overworld dialog. I'll leave you to look at that yourself though!)

For Dragonborns, the eye has a very visible black sclera, and is unanimated, as you can see here. It's up to you whether you think that matches well with classic DB eyes or not.

If you want the effects but not the cosmetics, there are mods on Nexus which remove the visual component in both cases. I may add links to those mods down here later, but Nexus is down right now so it'll have to wait.

#bg3 #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #shadowheart #karlach #lae'zel #gale #gale of waterdeep #screenshots #rambles #bg3 screenshots #volo's ersatz eye #hag-eyed #no companions were harmed in the making of this post #thank you to lochor qa'leith and fish for being my testing dummies LOL #resources #long post

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ichijager13 · 1 year

Text

Teach me how to be loved

Chapter I

Cold heart and hands and aptitude

Pairing : Eren Jäger x reader

Characters: Eren Jäger, Annie Leonhart, Pieck Finger.

Tags: Unhealthy copping mechanism, unhealthy relationships, childhood trauma, physical and verbal abuse, self-esteem and trust issues, domestic violence, implied/ referenced cheating and a touch of sweet, lovable and non fuckboy Eren Jäger

Masterlist, AO3, Playlists : Reader’s POV, Eren’s POV

A/N: It’s been a while since I posted something, it was because of this fic. I came up with the idea over a month ago and started a draft but was too afraid to engage.

This work contains a detailed description of physical and verbal abuse, please read the tags.

Also, if you are a victim of any form of domestic abuse, please seek help. I know it’s not easy but it’s better than being stuck in this endless vicious cycle.

I also would like to thank you for all the support you give me and for the reactions. I hope you like this story because it means a lot to me. Stay safe please.

A quiet groan left you at the feeling of the sunlight that peeked through the curtains tickling your heavy eyelids. Trying but failing to go back to sleep, you opened your eyes. It took you a moment to realize that this wasn’t your bedroom. You turned your head and stared at the man sleeping next to you. long and silky brown hair covered half of his face while the other was buried in the pillow he hugged. The bed sheets were tucked underneath his armpits leaving his broad shoulders bare. You could easily make up the traces your nails left on his sun-kissed skin.

Carefully and with calculated moves you slipped out of bed. once you succeeded to leave it without waking him up, you started your quest in looking for your items. You released a sigh of relief when you located all your stuff. After typing a quick text, you got dressed making sure to not make the slightest noise.

So far, you were running on autopilot. Another weekend evening where you ended up in a stranger’s bed, waking up the next morning, getting dressed, informing Annie and Pieck -your friends- you are still alive, and sneaking out of the man’s house before he wakes up.

You were about to pick up your high heels and leave when you heard the bedsheets shift. You froze praying he was just moving in his sleep.

You cringed when his raspy voice resonated in the quiet room. “Has anyone told you before that you have a nasty habit?” you squeezed your eyes shut and cursed your bad luck. There was nothing you hated more than the awkwardness of the morning after. “Were you going to run away like the other times?” you managed to put on a neutral expression before you peered over your shoulder.

Your breath hitched when you glanced at the handsome man sitting on the edge of his bed. You slowly turned facing the sleepy man as your eyes drank on the sight offered to you. not bad at all, you told yourself. you had to summon all your forces to pull your eyes off his lean figure and toned body.

You were met with vibrant green eyes that peered at you once he pushed back the strands of hair covering his face which made looking away even harder.

you faked an apologetic smile before you spoke. “I have an urgent matter that I need to take care of”. You tried to focus and keep your eyes on his face while speaking but you couldn’t resist following the movements of his hand rubbing the back of his head. You scolded yourself for giving in to your perverted desires and followed. “I didn’t want to bother you at such an early hour”.

“How thoughtful”. He cooed as a wicked smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. “You must be a very busy person then. I take it, that was the case the previous two times”. You could hear the sarcastic tone as he made his way toward your stiff figure.

You opened and closed your mouth several times before you finally asked, uncertain. “Two times?” your eyes narrowed. Visibly amused, he nodded in response and how you hated that stupid smirk that he displayed.

You inhaled deeply while scanning the room looking for hints that might trigger your memory. He stood there in front of you watching your face fall when you remembered the familiar window wall and the view it offered of the park and the river crossing the city. You baited your lower lip in frustration. You remember him now, you slept with him a month ago.

Your mind wheels raced a bit trying where you met him. “A gala organized by a downtown gallery”. He spoke as if he knew what was on your mind. You mentally kicked yourself for committing such a mistake before glaring at him. a sly grin adorned his face, he was certainly enjoying putting you through this. you were about to turn your back on him when something ticked in your head. He said two times, you squinted your eyes studying his face and trying to remember when the other time happened. Your train of thought was interrupted by your ringtone. It was Pieck.

You threw suspicious looks his way before taking the call. “Good morning… yes. Oh, but Annie is out of town… No, I didn’t…. I told you last night I don’t have them on me… Don’t worry, I’ll try to find a solution… No, no, there’s no need to”. You glanced once again at the tall brunette facing you before mumbling. “Yeah… good... Listen, we’ll talk about this later”. you cursed your friend’s curiosity. “Okay, I’ll call you once I get there”. you stuttered feeling heat creeping up your face. “Goodbye”. You pressed the button putting an end to your friend’s questions. “Well, they are waiting for me. I have to go now. I’m glad you are doing fine”. You wore a tight lip, nervous smile. While you cried internally at the thought of him understanding that the last seconds of the call were about him. you glanced one last time at him before turning your back. But he was faster than you, he wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you against his bare chest before you managed to move. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling of his arms looping around your waist.

You sucked in a deep breath the moment his lips grazed the thin skin of your nape. Unable to move, you formed a tight fist feeling his mouth traveling along your neck leaving wet kisses that made your heart skip a beat.

“Let me take you on a date”. he breathed against your ear shell and you cursed your bad luck for the second time this morning.

You gathered every ounce of resolve you had left and opened your mouth. “I’m afraid it’s not possible”. you pressed your palms against his torso pushing him slightly. “I don’t date”. you added in a monotone voice. And that’s exactly why you always leave before they wake up. this is the part you hate the most.

“A lunch then?” His grip tightened around your waist. “Not a date, just two grown-ups enjoying a meal together”. His lips -the same lips that made you release unholy noises the night before- ghosted your skin as he spoke.

“Sorry”. You mumbled and he immediately released you. and you hated how for a split second you regretted the absence of his warmth. You stepped out of his room before you do something you’d end up regretting.

“Damn, girl”. Annie gasped at the end of your story. “You should stop banging guys when you are half conscience”. She added before sipping at her coffee. Frowning she glanced at Pieck for backup.

Pieck nodded before speaking. “Have you remembered when the other encounter happened?”

You hide your face in your hands releasing a frustrated groan. “No, and it’s driving me crazy”. You rumbled.

She hummed. “How about you take a pause”. She mused. “You’ve been doing this for over a year now. The way you are taking things lately is…”. She paused trying to pick the right word. “It’s unhealthy, what you are doing to yourself”.

“But it’s the only way to keep my mind off things”. You murmured ashamed. “And it sometimes feels so good”. you added when events from last night resurfaced. “It’s addictive”. You confessed recalling the feeling of his big hands kneading your burning skin and his lips against yours.

“Was he that good?” Pieck scoffed and you nodded looking down.

Annie slapped her. “You’re not helping”. She mouthed. “There are other ways to keep it off them, healthier ones”. The blue-eyed woman spoke softly.

You only shrugged before taking a bite from the strawberry shortcake Pieck made. “God, the taste is heavenly”. You let your head fall back enjoying the divine taste.

“It’s your recipe”.

“Really?” you sat straight, eyebrows shot up your forehead.

“Yes, you would’ve remembered if you weren’t busy getting laid whenever you had a chance”. Your friend taunted causing the three of you to burst into laughter.

“Stop slut-shaming me”. you huffed. “I bet you're jealous”. You pointed pulling your tongue at her.

“I, for sure wouldn’t forget about him if he is as handsome and as good as you claim he is”.

“Pieck”. Both you and Annie hissed.

Thoughts of his large shaft stretching you filled your mind. No one other than him left you a panting mess with each thrust he made.

“Porco wouldn’t be pleased if he heard you saying such a thing”. Annie taunted the dark-haired woman who rolled her eyes at her. The blonde turned her attention to you. “Armin will be absent the next weekend. How about putting a halt to your bad habits and we spend the weekend together?”

“Oh, yes, please”. Pieck pouted tugging at your forearm. “And could you please bake something. Like the old days”. Pieck pursed her lower lip further and batted her lashes at you.

“Are you alright there?” A deep husky voice inquired once he was fully inside of you. a satisfied sigh left your bruised lips when you started to adjust to his presence. A warm hand cupped your face softly and you relaxed and leaned into his touch. “Ready?” he asked after he kissed you. you nodded and he started dragging himself out and inside of you. at first, he was moving slowly but it didn’t take him long to pick up the pace. With each thrust, he reached that spot that made your toes curl and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. The shaky moans that dropped from your swollen lips made him lose his mind. He couldn’t get his eyes off you, not when you looked this beautiful. face contorting and body reacting to his touch.

Annie’s soft and cheerful voice calling your name startled you. with hazy eyes you stared at both your friends trying to recall what were you talking about.

“He must be something else”. Pieck joked. “I’ve never seen you like this before”. A breathy chuckle left her chest. “I still don’t understand why you refused his invitation”.

“You know why”. You answered dryly. “Both of you do”.

“But that’s another thing”. Annie’s soothing tone made you feel less tense. “Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

“Who said I didn’t?” you snapped interrupting the blonde before a single word rolled off her tongue. “I’m trying to have fun that’s all. Didn’t you say I should go out and enjoy myself more?” you rose your hand cutting your friend once more. “I don’t wanna do the same mistake again, once is more than enough”.

“Anyway, can the three of us meet at my place this weekend?”

“Works for me”. you spoke cutting another piece of the cake.

you both glanced at Pieck waiting for an answer. “Count me in, I’m sure he can survive a night or two without me”. she pulled her tongue.

“Then it’s settled”. Annie’s smile was so bright it could light up the whole city.

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steelcladbutterfly · 1 year

Text

Yandere Fairy: Xenon

So, this is totally separate from the halloween story for fairy. I enjoyed doing this one even if it seems a bit odd at points. There is something of a warning for this one. The yandere was involved with reader’s mother before she died, and sees them in the same light. They aren’t related or anything, but I figured I’d mention this just in case it grosses anyone out.

Character Sheet

In European folklore, it’s a legendary creature or mythical being, that is often described as metaphysical, supernatural, or preternatural. Basically every culture has their own version, but the similarities are usually magic and some sort of extended lifespan. The seelie and unseelie courts are found specifically in the Scottish mythos and the Dullahan specifically in Irish mythology for example. The fairies were often fickle as well, with their own sets of personal rules.

Personal head canon in the story about fairies, not sure if it’s a thing, so I’m calling it a head cannon: The bigger a fairy is, the more power they have. So, if they’re closer to an average adult’s size, they have a lot more power than one the size of your hand.

Fairy’s name is Xenon.

Life had always had its ups and many downs for you. Being cursed with exceedingly bad luck didn’t exactly tip the scales in your favor after all. Whether it be forgetting the task you had to do, tripping multiple times a day, getting lost in the forest, slammed into by runaway livestock, or any other number of things that could go wrong, you had to put up with it. Of course, over the near constant times you tripped and fell and got lost and generally made a fool out of yourself in the forest, many of the magical creatures living there had come out and started interacting with you.

Of course, the idea that your curse could somehow spread, like it was contagious, is part of what prompted you to stay in the forest. Only so many dirty looks someone could take from neighbors and townspeople.

In fact, you considered many of the beings in the forest to be closer friends than anyone you knew in town. They cheered you up after an awful break up, they helped you find your way out of the forest after you fell down a small cliff and broke a leg, and even helped you with gathering herbs, spices, and vegetables during your treks into the woods for the semi-easily found supplies.

You suspected they had started out wanting to keep you from harm to weaken your guard, and assumed you were a bit daft and would eventually fall for their trick. It was somewhat hurtful, but over time they proved you wrong, showing they did care for you, even if it was in their own unique way. There were plenty of nymphs of course, water and nature spirits alike, several satyrs, there was the grumpy old dragon in one of the caves with multicolored crystals embedded in the walls, floors, and ceilings, and even the occasional will o’ the wisp. Fairies were occasional, they liked messing around in and with your hair and loved the way you would react to the problems that had plagued you so often. However, they were also the ones guiding you, sometimes frantically out of the forest.

You assumed there was something in there they knew of that didn’t like you or maybe just humans in general. That was fine, as long as it didn’t try to attack you. Of course, with your luck, it seemed all but inevitable that everything would hurt you at some point.

~~~~~

Laughter resonated through the trees, as the multicolored leaves crunched underfoot as the forms of human and fae leapt by. You had been collecting wild vegetables and herbs for your father before Selena had appeared before you. You remained as resolute as you could but eventually her hovering form and teasing comments cajoled you into joining her for a trek that devolved into a race.

“Oh come now,” Selena called teasingly over her shoulder, “Isn’t this just a pleasant stroll? How are you falling so far behind?”

You grumbled, but smirked and leapt lithely to reach the front. “I don’t know, why are you falling behind? I mean this pace is slow enough for me to catch up, so why can’t you?”

You laughed as Selena gasped in mock affront, but looking over your shoulder to talk to her was of course a bad idea as your gaze went from her face, to the trees towering above, to the ground, and back to her face again as your foot caught on a tree root and you tumbled end over end until you came to a rest face down on the forest floor.

Selena hurried over, her footsteps light as she called out to you, turning you over with a strength that was belied by her small build. She only reached your waist, but she was the tallest fairy you had come across during your time exploring the forest, so you knew she was stronger than she appeared to be to humans. It also helped that she had taken a liking to you after hearing of your plight, helping you out whenever possible, but it was disappointing and terrifying when she had proclaimed the curse came from a being much stronger than her.

You groaned softly as she suddenly jostled you, bringing startling attention to the throbbing of your nose. Trying to move it brought a dull pain and sniffing was painful but not overly so, bringing you to the conclusion that it was just heavily bruised, not broken. An odd twist of luck for you, as there wasn’t even a twisted ankle from catching on that tree root. A sudden tightening on your shoulders brought your attention back to Selena, who was staring intently into the forest with an odd look on her face, one you had never seen on her before. Fear.

You furrowed your brows, about to ask her about it, but this brought your attention to a rapidly developing headache and you groaned, bringing her attention mostly back onto you. She continued to be wary as she helped you up.

“Are you all right? You should probably head home to get that checked, don’t worry about your bag, I can bring it to you later, just please head home.”

You grunted, barely able to get a word in edgewise as she hurriedly guided you in the right direction before heading off at a rapid pace in nearly the exact opposite direction. You shrugged, assuming something was up, but doubting there was much you could do so you started the trek back home.

~~~~~

Meanwhile, Selena came to a stop, clutching the bag she had made a brief detour for, just shy of entering a sun drenched glen, hesitating just at the cusp of leaving the shadows provided by the trees.

“So, how have things been? I’m sure there’s a reason behind the human and the lack of acknowledgement from her?”

Selena shrieked and fell into the glen before meeting the bright green eyes of the fairy towering over her at nearly three times her size. A pleasant smile was firmly affixed on his face, but the curiosity and anger were readily apparent in the bright eyes pinning her to the spot.

“Ah, Xenon. Please forgive the human, she was never told of your presence.”

A warning pulse of his magic encircled her, causing her to flinch and freeze as his eyes narrowed and grew brighter.

“And what reason could you possibly have for that? You all rely on me to keep the woods safe and a refusal to allow that acknowledgment to spread to the humans is starting to get on my nerves!” Xenon’s voice grew louder and his eyes brighter before he was visibly holding back from harming the cowering fairy before him as he finally asked once more through gritted teeth, “What. Possible. Reason?”

Selena slowly stopped shaking as it became apparent he wasn’t going to hurt her, and gave him the answer.

“Well, we all remember what happened last time. And you still seem to be affected by it. And I personally felt the human may remind you of her.”

She drew breath to continue, but his hand raised and so silence remained. Conflicting emotions ran through him, grief present heavily, before being closely followed by anger and hatred, before falling into a weary sort of sorrow. Xenon sighed heavily his eyes having dimmed slightly, before his gaze snapped back to Selena and his eyes narrowed and resumed their glow.

“One moment. Tell me, what could possibly make you think she would remind me of that wretch?”

He leaned closer and the proximity made a cold sweat break out on the back of her neck. “She seems to have a similar curse! I’m sorry but I should go now, have to return this bag after all!”

She attempted to fly away, to get away from the pressure of the bright gaze, but was stopped abruptly by a tug on her leg. A shriek escaped her lips as she hung upside down, the fabric of her pants being rubbed against her leg unpleasantly where Xenon held her up effortlessly with a single hand, the other having snatched the bag by its strap and dangled it close by so he could study it further, reading the name carefully stitched into the flap. He let out a hum, barely acknowledging the desperation in Selena’s struggles to get away before a smirk broke out on his face and he grinned down at her wolfishly.

“Well, this (Y/n) has definitely caught my attention. I do believe I shall pay her a visit, after all the poor thing needs this back does she not?”

Selena was dropped abruptly and as Xenon began to lift off the ground, she called after him, desperate to keep the human away from the dangerous fae she had inadvertently caught the attentions of.

“How do you expect to find her! You have no idea where she even lives! And why dredge up old memories, she’ll likely have no answers for what happened to Mar——!”

The name, once so familiar and revered, now only full of anger and bitterness to the large fairy stopped him from flying further away as he leveled a glare directly at Selena, stopping her breath for a moment as she was seized with a primal fear.

“Never say that name again. You don’t deserve to say it. If I want to know what happened to her, I will. But whether or not this (Y/n) can provide me with such answers, what does it matter to you? Besides, this is her bag. It’s easy to make a tracking spell. Now I’d suggest you stay out of my sight for a long time Selena. Lest I decide you have no more use.”

With that, Xenon flew away, leaving a shaking and petrified Selena in his wake.

~~~~~

When you arrived home, covered in dirt with a bruised nose and no bag, your father, rightfully, freaked out. After losing your mother a few years after you were born, and finding out about the curse affecting you, he became exceedingly protective. In fact, the only reason he let you traverse the woods was for the sole reason if you got hurt there it was just the curse you had to face. Entering town was always hard as there was the added vitriol of the townspeople who despised that which you couldn’t control.

You pouted, having been relegated to scrubbing the cups and plates, as your father would say, “Wooden AND not sharp, it’s the perfect chore for you, (Y/n)!”

It didn’t mean you had to like it though, so, pouting, you continued your chore. Every time you came home injured, he would freak out and send you to do some careful, mostly non-injurious job so he could assure himself you wouldn’t end up like your mother, fondly remembered by your father as Ash, because she had the ability to quickly quell any argument, smothering it like one would a fire, leaving only cool ash in it’s wake. Having died before you could remember anything important, you were left with faint memories of warm eyes and a lullaby when she would put you down to sleep.

You blinked, having been pulled from your thoughts as you noticed the water having cleared of soap suds, which was strange as you had started only five minutes prior. You tilted your head, reaching for the soap, but flailed and ended up slipping on a mixture of water and soap below your feet as your father's angered shout resounded through the house.

You ignored the way the fall knocked your breath out of your lungs as you got up as fast as possible and attempted to race to the door, slamming into doorways and cabinets as you went. Huffing upon arrival, you took in the scene just beyond the doorstep of the house; your father, angry and heaving and the tallest fairy you had ever seen, looking mildly confused and irritated at the angered form of your father.

His green eyes slid carelessly from the angered man facing him down to your form as you emerged cautiously. The eyes appeared to light up as he took you in before sauntering up to you, still ignoring your father, who was stopped from approaching with a wave of the fairy’s hand. Your brows furrowed as the aura the fairy exuded seemed familiar, but he began speaking before you could finish chasing down that familiarity.

“You know, living in a house so close to the woods and so far from the rest of the humans seems foolish. What if some monster from the forest decided to take notice, hm?” his question seemed ironic, but he continued before you could answer, “Anyways, you left your bag in the woods. Also, what’s with the anger from that guy? I don't believe I’ve ever met him, but then again, I came for you, not him.”

He bowed slightly, seeming intent on something more when his hand lingered on yours when he foisted the bag off to you. A cautious silence filled the air as he leaned ever closer, eyes brightening and dimming as he appeared to be deep in thought as he took in your visage. However, before anything more could progress, the silence was broken as the fairy was abruptly pushed away as your father, having finally broken through whatever the fae had put up, stood protectively in front of you, leaving you to look curiously over and around his muscled bulk at the interaction that took place.

“Leave, Xenon. You stay away from my daughter and never come back here or else you’ll have to face me this time.”

A brow was raised as the newly dubbed Xenon smirked and fluttered slightly off the ground.

“And why should I? How do you even know who I am? And if you do, surely you know your threat is nothing to me. Ah yes, (Y/n), you intrigue me. I’ll come visit you sometime.”

With that, he flew off laughing, leaving behind the outrage your father threw after him. Leaving you slightly curious and wary, clutching the bag you had expected Selena to drop off. You didn’t have long to dwell on your thoughts as you would quickly herded inside the house.

“What was that about? Who was that? And how do you know him, dad?”

Your questions were answered vaguely as he guided you further up the stairs and closer to your room.

“Someone you don’t want to get to know. And I only know of him, I’ve never actually met him before now. But I know exactly what sort of things he can do. Now, stay in here, if he comes back, you are not to let him in or interact with him. Of course this had to happen during the busiest time of the year. That festival always needs a new stage and new booths every single year and they foist the management position off on me every time,” he casually blocked your attempts at more questions by walking away, “I’m serious (Y/n)! Stay here!”

You pouted and crossed your arms, unsatisfied with his answers, but already complying as he gathered his tools and set out for town. Despite your curse and his protective instincts, you knew he would only order you explicitly if it was truly something dangerous. So, you settled down, content to wait for him to come home so you could needle him for more specifics.

However, Xenon was not as content to simply wait it out, as you would soon learn, brashness and little, if any, foresight guided many of his actions and led to him developing such a fearsome reputation when paired with his overwhelming powers.

~~~~~

You grew bored quickly of just waiting in your room, so you went to get a snack. After somehow giving yourself a cut from grabbing a bowl to put an assortment of berries in and then banging your knee going up the stairs, you opened your door to reveal Xenon lounging on your bed, examining the journal you put under your mattress, with the window wide open.

Unsure how to react, you stood there for several moments, wondering if you should just close the door and go back downstairs when he finally deigned to take notice of you.

“You’ve been exploring these woods for a long time. I have so many punishments to dole out for hiding you while you were in there. I mean, you documented every creature you met and when! It doesn’t get much easier than that.”

He sat up, snapping the journal closed and tucking it away. Standing up, he sauntered over to you, glancing over you curiously as you continued to stand there, still unsure on what to do next.

“You still haven’t said a word. What, is there some secret to unlocking your voice box or something?”

The teasing was certainly not what you were expecting from someone who could get such out of the place reactions from both Selena and your father, so your defenses lowered slightly, allowing you to finally speak.

“Well, if there is I guess you found it?” you chuckled slightly, still nervous and shifting in place as he began to circle you, “What are you even doing in here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to see you! I thought I told you I’d visit sometime.”

“Yeah, you did, but sometime usually implies more than a few minutes after that promise.”

“Really? You humans are fascinating with your time constructs and how long they are. I honestly have no idea how you function like that.”

“Well, I suppose you’d have to grow up with it. Otherwise I guess it would seem rather strange and bizarre.”

He tilted his head when you agreed, continuing to stare as you laughed, but as the silence continued on his side, it petered off to an awkward hum. Finally, he blinked, shaking his head and smiling.

“You are intriguing. I honestly would have expected you to be bitter about magic and creatures with customs and styles different from your own. After all, most other humans are the same. I would have thought you’d have been doubly so considering the curse Selena told me you have. But you’re not. Strange. I want to know more the farther I look into you.”

He was in front of you, nearly chest to chest as he proclaimed this, eyes unwavering in their hold on your own orbs. This left you to break it, backing up a few steps and rubbing the back of your head sheepishly as you replied.

“Well, the curse tends to cause collateral damage from time to time. So, no one in town really likes me because of it. No one in the woods really cares though, so I like being there. And I don’t even know who gave me the curse, as far as I can tell, I’ve had it since I was born. Apparently it was part of what killed my mother, which didn’t really help public opinion either,” you hummed, looking out the window before your eyes slid back to the face of Xenon, “To be honest, I try not to let it affect me, even if my personal experiences have shaped how I interact with the world. Everyone has different experiences and feelings and families. I’m sure there’s tons of beings out there like me.”

You trailed off as an odd look crossed his face, but before you could decipher it, a smirk replaced it as his eyes shone a little brighter.

“You are definitely worth knowing. How about I show you the forest the others haven’t shown you?”

He leapt up to the windowsill and held out his hand, beckoning you to take it, but you hesitated, not wanting to ignore the warnings your father gave you. Xenon noticed the hesitation, his eyebrow raising with a silent question. One you could answer.

“I’m not so sure. My father warned me of you. Said you aren’t someone to get to know.”

He scoffed at that, stepping down to you.

“Oh come on! What have I done to possibly make you think I’m bad?”

“Well... You did break into my room and read my journal.”

His shoulders slumped slightly, bringing an involuntary giggle to your lips at the slight pout he displayed.

“I meant more along the lines of I haven’t hurt you or anything. ‘Sides, you didn’t even lock the window. Now that’s just asking for someone to break in. Just be glad it was me and not some ordinary robber.”

You smiled slightly, teasingly adding on, “Oh, so are you a special robber then?”

“Yes!” Xenon exclaimed confidently before he realized what you actually said, “Wait a minute.”

That actually got a full laugh out of you as he floundered over his words. Your defenses had been suitably lowered, being friends with the creatures of the forest most of your life giving you the confidence to place your trust in him.

“Alright, fine. Show me the woods I haven’t explored yet. But I have to be back before nightfall. I’m giving you my trust for now, so try not to lose it.”

He bowed, making a grandiose display as he did so, bringing to your lips a few more chuckles.

“Of course. I would hate to leave the lady wanted at home. You shall be back before nightfall.”

He stood up, once more leaping onto the windowsill and holding out his hand. This time, you took it, allowing him to lift you up, wrapping an arm firmly around your waist as he took to the air, off to the depths of the wood.

~~~~~

The sea of trees below you was unlike anything you had seen before. It looked more mysterious from above, with all the wonders hidden away beneath the covering of branches and leaves, giving only brief glimpses of clearings as you raced over the forest. You laughed, wind whipping your hair around your face as you took it all in with wide eyes. Xenon seemed amused by your reactions, teasing you even as he flew steadily deeper and deeper into the forest.

“You’ll probably hurt yourself if your eyes open any wider. I mean it’s just trees, not really anything new.”

“Ah, you’re no fun!” you exclaimed, “You have wings, so you can see this any time you like! I don’t, so of course this is fun for me.”

He let out a laugh at your reply, jostling you as his grip slipped slightly in his mirth. However, he was swift to adjust his hold on you when you began to slip.

“With this reaction to the tops of trees, I look forward to what you’ll do when we actually reach something new.”

He continued to fly for several more minutes, continuing to banter even as he slowly slipped under the tree line, floating closer and closer to the forest floor. You were so distracted with trying to find a comeback to his latest jab that he managed to land and guide you to your destination without you noticing. At least, you didn’t notice until he finally pulled aside a curtain of vines with a flourish, revealing a cave with high swooping ceilings, plenty of natural light, and an elaborate mess of quilts and jewelry covering a statue worn down to a vague outline from years of wear and tear.

It was unlike anything you had ever seen before and you were spellbound, taking in all the details you could make out as the light behind you cut off abruptly as Xenon swept in behind you. You were left with beams of light filtering in from the cracks in the sides of the rock face, giving the space an even more mystical vibe as dust and dirt swirled around, lighting up like motes of sun in the beams of light.

“Pretty cool right? Certainly not anything you’ve seen before?”

The sudden question startled you from your reverie, bringing you back to the present. You yelped as Xenon suddenly leaned in close, cocking his head to the side with a smirk present from your amusing reaction. But as you still hadn’t answered, he saw fit to ask once more.

“Well? What do you think?”

“It’s pretty cool. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like this before. What even is it?”

You hefted yourself up to the statue’s base, ignoring the sharp rocks that dug into your skin in favor of straining to glimpse at the few faint carvings that managed to survive the years.

“Eh, pretty sure it’s some sort of artifact to a god or something, maybe even the previous ruler of this forest. Might have been part of a temple,” Xenon flew to the top, landing on one of the massive horns protruding from the sides of the head, “But its been long abandoned. I mostly use it as a place to rest and to store all my trinkets. Not much use otherwise.”

He shrugged, leaning against the head, and watching as you continued to circle the statue, his eyes narrowing imperceptibly as you stumbled over mostly smooth ground. You took little notice, too wrapped up in your thoughts to pay attention to your companion’s actions at the moment. Eventually, your attention trailed off to the walls, noticing strange etchings not in line with the carvings present on the statue. Xenon took notice, tilting his head to continue to keep an eye on you without moving from his perch as you trailed in a slow and shaky circle around the circumference of the cave. Soon, your attention was drawn to another opening, large enough to walk through unimpeded, but leading further into the shadows behind the statue. You weren’t sure what to do next, so you glanced at Xenon for instructions.

He let out a huff, a smile growing on his lips at the lost look on your face before he leaped down gracefully, landing close to your form.

“Such curiosity. And yet you’re cautious enough to not go charging in head first. Interesting.”

Xenon led the way, wings taking on a faint light as the sunlight faded behind you the further into the cave you went. Of course, this in turn meant almost zero visibility for you, leaving you completely at the nonexistent mercy of your curse. After the third time you fell, Xenon finally let out a huff, taking your hand to guide you.

“You really are helpless on rocky terrain like this. Who even cursed you anyways? And, for that matter, why were you cursed?”

Unfortunately, the answers you could provide failed to satisfy him.

“I already told you. I have no idea. I mean I’m pretty sure I was a baby when it happened. Because I can’t remember ever being cursed. You’d have to ask my father for specifics, but I doubt he’d give them to you.”

He grumbled, pulling you a little faster, causing you to stumble to try to keep up. It seemed to be getting a little brighter, and you soon noticed clumps of luminescent moss appearing in greater bunches along the walls, casting a soft, yet eerie glow the further down the path sloped. Your musings were once again interrupted when Xenon spoke once more, his voice echoing strangely off the walls.

“And your mother’s dead.”

“Yes, from my curse.”

“...What was her name?”

“Well, my father always called her Ash.”

“Hmm.”

He seemed disappointed by the answer. But before you could dwell on it too long, the walls suddenly opened up, leading into a cavern many times larger than the one above. Moss covered nearly every inch of the place, leaving only a pool of water, still and inky black despite the bright moss, to stand out in the carpet of surprisingly soft bioluminescent plants. You could glimpse more intricate carvings similar to both the statue and the walls from the cave above present through the moss. On the floor, the walls, even the roof of the cave. You walked farther in, nearing the center as you turned around and around.

Once again, the spell was broken by Xenon, this time with a shout and a harsh tug of your arm just before your foot could brush the black waters of the pool. You huffed, about to shout back, but stopped when you noticed numerous ripples subsiding in the water, and something resembling sharp and jagged teeth flashed in the light of the moss for a moment. You shivered.

“I tried to tell you not to get near there, but you didn’t seem to hear me. You really don’t want to know what’s down there. Trust me.”

Xenon pulled you up and away from the pool, guiding you back to the tunnel.

“Maybe that’s enough for here. We still have a few hours before sundown, so how’s about I walk you back?”

Slowly pulling your eyes away from the pool, you allowed him to tug you along, nodding in agreement when he looked back at you, words failing to come out.

~~~~~

You remained uneasy and silent for several minutes more, lingering on the unnatural shape present in those waters. But, the farther you got, the more Xenon aided you in distractions with new sights and sounds on a trailing path home. Slowly, you felt more at ease, smiling and laughing at the stories he told you of the unique areas you went by.

A dead silent glen filled with rainbow flowers were from a dare he was given when drunk. It was to make the most beautiful flower out of an item suggested by the rest of the drunk and rowdy crowd. So, he took the dare and made a rainbow flower out of a strong sleep potion.

“Yeah, that thing knocks you out cold the minute you take a whiff. That party was knocked dead silent after I caused this whole field of them to bloom. Honestly, they’d have been gone by now, but every time someone tries to, they end up being found unconscious, taking a literal dirt nap!”

You had leaned down to smell one when he stated the facts. He didn’t stop laughing at your loud yelp and desperate scramble backwards for five minutes. Then, he finally satiated your curiosity on the next unique sight that came across your line of sight. Floating around a giant tree, the roots dangling in the air in a bubble of water several meters above your head, was a school of fish. They looked like any river fish with the sole exception they were swimming through air, rather than water. Xenon was more than happy to answer.

“That used to be in the ground. But, it just so happened the time a raging storm came through, it left a small pond in the roots of the tree. Not lying! That freak storm several years ago, I’m sure you know it?” You did of course. It destroyed several properties in town and even though you wren’t anywhere near it, you were pretty sure it was still blamed on you. “Well, that sucks. People really have to stop playing scapegoat. It’s never fun. Anyways, over here, it managed to gouge out a perfect center, leaving the roots in tact. So, when I checked it out, I found it filled with these fish, just swimming around like nothing else. It was crazy! Eventually, this thing started floating higher and higher, until a bunch of satyrs freaked out the day the fish started flying. Pretty sure it’s something about the water. But, hell, maybe it is the fish!”

Continuing on, you lost track of time as you continued to stroll through the forest, taking in both familiar and strange new sights along the way. You mentioned a few of your own experiences; such as a large hunk of crystal, held aloft by strings of multicolored thread. Xenon admitted he had no idea on that one, so you finally had the chance to give your own story.

“The old dragon,” close by was the cave, filled with crystals, that housed the dragon, “he felt the woods around his dwelling could be spruced up a bit. So, rather than just ask a few nymphs for help or something, he decided he’d rip the largest chunk of crystal he could out of the wall and string it up outside. So, when that inevitably failed, he got some help. I’ll be honest, it was an interesting idea, so I bought a ton of thread and knitted together several hundred yards of a multicolored string, mostly so I could see where he was going with this. Next thing I knew, he had gotten a few fairies to strengthen it and then just looped the string around that crystal and strung it up. Like some crazy demented ornament!”

It seemed to amuse Xenon, enough so that by the time he calmed down, you had already reached the edge of the woods around your house.

“Oh man, you really are interesting. I was not expecting that was how that got up there, but I was not disappointed!”

You laughed, trotting away from him towards your house, pausing at the porch steps to wave goodbye.

“I had fun! I wouldn’t mind doing this again sometime!”

With that, you bounded up the stairs, pausing only when you tripped to pick yourself up again. Xenon watched you go, the faint smile on his face fading to a scowl when the door closed. He turned, giving a harsh glare to the foliage until the cautious forms of several fairies crept out. Firmly entrenched now in his position of leadership, he allowed himself the pleasure of finally cracking down on the gang of creatures that had been following him and his companion around since they had taken to exploring outside the cave’s boundaries.

“I don’t take kindly to the fact you all felt you could do this without any recompense. Now unless you really want me to do something, I’d suggest you don’t ever try to get involved in my affairs again. I have no cares for your own personal feelings in the matter. You stay away from the human or I’ll make sure of it.”

He growled, narrowing his eyes as they shrank in to themselves, gave their word, and fluttered off. Xenon only continued when all but one had left.

“At least you know what’s coming, huh, Selena?”

Selena swallowed, nodding as she readied herself for whatever was to come next.

~~~~~

The woods were quiet as Selena followed Xenon, many having retreated farther into the woods, back to their dwellings for the night, leaving few, if any, to witness what happened next. Stopping just shy of entering a familiar, if now moonlit, glen, Xenon stood still, quiet and solid for several long moments. When Selena finally grew restless, shuffling in place, and uneasy, he finally spoke, with a self-satisfied smirk firmly in place.

“You should really be glad I’m in a good mood. I don’t feel like doling out any punishment tonight.”

“Ah, well, thank you for that?”

Selena grew wary, unsure how to deal with a calm Xenon. She was used to anger being readily apparent whenever someone crossed Xenon, so the very fact he was able to conceal his emotions this time was worrisome. She prepared to lift off and fly home, ready to forget this ever happened, but a hand slammed into the tree beside her, stopping her dead in her tracks as she hovered in place, making eye contact with the surprisingly dark green orbs of Xenon.

“I may be letting you off this time, but,” he leaned closer, “I will not be as willing to forgive you next time. And trust me, you don’t want to know what’ll happen if you forget that.”

With that, he was gone, leaving her to slowly drift back down to earth, unable to move for several minutes more.

~~~~~

You hummed, drifting into the house with a cheerful expression. Even when you tripped going up the stairs and banged your head on the side of the door, you remained happy. Xenon was fun. He took you to places you had never been before, telling you fun stories, and entertaining you with only the expectation of a similarly entertaining story.

You shook yourself out of your daze when the door opened and closed, signaling your father’s return. You trotted back downstairs carefully, peeking into the front hall to see him shucking off his boots with a heavy sigh. He noticed you and waved you over, enveloping you in a firm hug. You reciprocated happily, but teasingly commented that he needed a bath. He laughed and ruffled your hair, stepping past you and further into the house.

“I suppose I do. Hard work and hot sun tends to lead to that.”

You smiled and headed back up the stairs when he called to you one last time.

“By the way (Y/n). I suppose I did overreact earlier. You can go out to the woods if you want to.”

You paused, unsure what lead to him changing his mind, but thanked him happily. So, the next morning, after your father had headed off for work, you grabbed your bag and headed out, taking note of what herbs and spices still needed to be restocked. A few could be bought at the market, but others were found more easily in the woods.

There was still a sizable number you needed to find, so you started off as soon as you were ready. The morning passed quietly and your bag began to fill up quickly. By the time you stopped for lunch, it was already more than halfway filled.

A sudden gust behind you messed up your hair and interrupted your lunch. Tilting your head back, you met the gaze of Xenon, who looked bemused. You finished chewing swiftly, nearly choking in your rush to greet him. You coughed, reaching blindly for the container of water you brought with you. A firm hand met your back, steadying you before you could fall over and the container was thrust into your hand.

“Do you always choke on your food? Or am I just special?”

You snorted, finally getting your breath back.

“Hello to you too, Xenon. And it happens more than I care to admit. And you did agree to being special. If only a special robber.”

You laughed, taking note of the pout on his face and the brief worry that flashed in his eyes.

“Don’t worry too much. I’m used to it! Anyway, is there anything you need? I’m in the middle of restocking our supply of herbs and spices, so I’m afraid I can’t go on any strolls or adventures today.”

“Ah, actually, I was wondering if you were planning on going to that festival the town is holding in a few weeks? I went once a while back, but I have been meaning to go again.”

You hummed, unsure if you should take him up on the offer.

“I suppose I could... but I haven’t gone in awhile because the tensions always eat at my nerves. I don’t like the way the townspeople look at me. There is a reason I hang out in the woods more than I do in town.”

Xenon looked crestfallen, his wings drooping slightly and his eyes dimming.

“I see. That’s too bad. I won’t force you if you don’t want to go.”

He sighed, looking ready to wander off, but you answered with a slight smile on your face.

“I didn’t say no,” you giggled as his wings perked back up and he whirled back towards you, “I do like the pie they sell specifically for the festival and if you’re going I won’t be alone in the crowd. So, why not.”

You yelped as he scooped you into a hug and twirled you around.

“Alright! Thank you! Ah, I need to come up with the perfect disguise! I’ll see you later, (Y/n)!”

You laughed, waving him off as he left as quickly and as suddenly as he had arrived. You shook your head slightly, before turning back to your forgotten meal with a faint smile still gracing your lips.

~~~~~

The weeks passed quickly, your father leaving early and coming home late as he continued work on the festival. You hung out with Xenon more often, as he seemed to find you easily every time you headed into the woods. He showed you the disguise he would wear; a tall, dark haired young man with brown eyes. You did notice that the green slipped through whenever his emotions grew, but otherwise it was a flawless disguise. His wings were safely hidden, hiding the last vestiges of his otherworldly appearance with ease.

You had oohed and aahed over his appearance, giggling silently when he showboated, his ego sufficiently stroked for him to do so. You clapped a few times when he was finished, at which point he seemed to realize what he was doing and blushed slightly, sputtering out excuses, sending you into peals of laughter that caused you to tumble off the log you had been perched on.

You had a few bruises by the time you were back on the log, this time with Xenon hovering over you. You smiled lightly, prepared to head home for the festival’s start the next day. Xenon helped guide you home, only stopping when going further would lead into the house. You smiled, waving him off and promising to be out the next morning to head into town, seeing him fly off reluctantly before you stepped inside.

~~~~~

Bright and early you headed off, bidding your father goodbye, he only let out a tired grumble, finally able to sleep in since the start of construction. He still had to take down the booths and stage, but that was in a few weeks, when the festival actually ended. So, you left him to his slumber, having already told him where you were going and assuring him you would be careful.

You grabbed your bag, planning on filling it with containers of pie and prizes, before finally stepping out into the day. You took note of the darkened horizon, judging that a storm would be coming in during the afternoon. You were then met with the disguised form of Xenon, who perked up and bounded over upon seeing you exit. You laughed, taking his hand gladly and stepping out and onto the winding path into town.

“So, what do you want to do first?”

Xenon thought carefully on the question, but eventually settled on; “Whatever you want to do first!”

You smiled, swinging your clasped hands back and forth, before you decided on a few games you enjoyed that were always at the festival.

“And then, pie!”

He laughed, taking no note of the stares he received as the two of you arrived in town, intent on taking in your smiling visage. As the day progressed, the more crowded the festival became, until soon it was as loud and uproarious as you remembered. But the longer you spent there, the more dreary your mood became, with Xenon being the only thing keeping you going.

For the more people there were, the more the murmurs began. Xenon seemed concerned, pulling you closer and glaring out at the crowd, growing more aggressive as time passed. But, the whispers were all encompassing and where one murmur fell silent at his gaze, another began.

“Yeah, and can you believe that Mar—— actually married the brute and had that awful spawn?”

One of the older ladies mentioned your mother’s name, causing you to flinch and attempt to grasp onto Xenon a little more, already affected by everything leading up to this. However, his head had snapped in that direction as recognition lit up his eyes with a greenish glow even through the brown that hid their true nature. Your own brows furrowed, but you thought little of it until you had reached a lull in the crowd, close by to a darkened alley. You let out a yelp as you were suddenly pushed into it, caged against the grimy wall by Xenon, whose eyes were wild as he spoke in a hiss, not wanting to draw any attention.

“Why did they say that name? How do they know that name? I thought your mother’s name was Ash?”

You shivered, trying and failing to flinch away from his grasp and the unstable flicker in his eyes.

“Th-that’s what my father calls her. Marsheena is her actual name! Why does it matter? All I really know is that she died from my curse and that’s partly why they hated her!”

Xenon went deathly still, eyes widening with a sudden realization and the words he carelessly spoke next brought a dawning horror to you.

“No. Your curse isn’t what killed her. It was supposed to just be her’s. She refused me. Why didn’t she tell me? Why! The only way that curse could be on you was if she was pregnant with you at the time. And if she was then she was likely already married. Why didn’t she tell me!? All this time she wasn’t even mine to begin with!?”

He gripped his hair, anger and confusion on his face, his disguise flickering, showing glimpses of his true form as his emotions grew unstable, huffing for breath as you slowly inched away. Confused, but slowly, understanding dawned upon you. Your quiet whisper snapped his attention back to you.

“All this time. All this time it was your fault? Her death? My curse?”

You huffed, feeling hot tears prick at the corner of your eyes. You turned before he could see it, willing them back, not wanting to breakdown here, not with him, not in the middle of the festival.

“I-I need time to sort this out.”

You hurried out of the alley before Xenon could pull you back. You were sure you couldn’t fully blame him. His outburst showed how emotionally unstable he was, even now, about the rejection and about your mother, and about everything leading up to the events that had happened before you were born. But, you needed time and space before you could sort this out with him. You had to sort it out yourself, consult with your father for more details before you could truly come to an understanding with Xenon.

Escaping from the darkened alley, you left Xenon to try to push his way through the crowd, shouting after your swiftly retreating form for you to come back or wait for him, but for once the hatred worked in your favor. The townspeople refused to get near you, allowing you swift passage through them, while simultaneously pushing back in on Xenon, forcing him to try to shove past the general townspeople and the dozens of ladies looking for a date or a dance with the handsome stranger that his magic showed to them, especially now that he was no longer with you.

~~~~~

You ran, getting closer and closer to home, relying on the fading sunlight that struggled to pierce the dark and heavy cloud cover, the storm rolling in swiftly as night approached, hoping against hope that Xenon would understand your need for space. But, as you drew closer to home, the louder the shouts behind you grew until you were stopped just shy of leaping onto the porch and into the house by a strong hand on your arm.

“Let me go, Xenon! I need space!”

You pulled desperately, trying to get away before the dam broke and you started to cry. But he tugged back, just as desperate, but with twice the strength, pulling you to him and cradling your cheeks as tears began to trickle down your face. Even as you attempted to shove him off, growing more desperate, he remained steadfast in his grip on you, disguise fully abandoned by now, allowing his wings to wrap around you, preventing you from pulling away. He huffed, seemingly unable to say anything at the moment, but the look in his eyes from earlier still hadn’t fully faded, leaving you wary even as you began to break into sobs.

He seemed ready to carry you off, still riding this unstable train of emotions when light flooded over your forms as the door swung open violently and your father stormed out.

“(Y/n)!”

He pulled you away from the fairy’s grip, and ushered you swiftly into the house as Xenon attempted to follow to pull you back into his grasp. But your father slammed the door shut, and quickly painted something on the wood. It glowed briefly before fading, just as Xenon slammed into it, causing it to rattle tremendously. But, it held up, even when the tell tale flash of his magic shone through the cracks in the door, even as he clawed desperately at the walls and banged farther and farther around the house, looking for any way in. And when one refused to present itself, an unholy howl of rage shook the foundations.

Afterwards, you found it was a one time concoction that your father had received from a fairy a few weeks earlier. It prevented all magic of any degree and severity, allowing no entry no matter the desperation.

But all you could focus on, throughout the thunderous booms and bangs and howls, was the warmth your father exuded as he clutched you close, rocking you slightly as you finally started to sob.

~~~~~

Xenon heaved, finally slowing down from his assault on the house. But even as he finally gave up, slinking back into the woods, rage burned deep within. Magic crackled from him, hissing loudly as rain began to fall, evaporating in the literal heat of the anger he could not contain, causing all the right minded denizens of the forest to flee. Only a fool would have disturbed the powerful fairy during his frenzy. And such a fool, there unfortunately was.

“You know, this probably ruined everything for you. You should have just given her the space she told you she needed.”

Growling, Xenon’s eyes cut to the small form of Selena. For a moment they simply stared at each other, the only sounds being faint crackles and huffs from Xenon. Selena soon shifted, flying slightly higher to be on eye level with the taller fairy.

“It’s not right to try to force your will on others. You tried it with Marsheena —“

A sudden pulse of energy and Selena found herself pinned by the throat to a nearby tree, the dangerously bright eyes of Xenon highlighting her features in an electric green glow.

”Who said you had the right to say that name!” Xenon roared, finally addressing her directly even as his grip grew tighter.

She gasped for air, clawing fruitlessly at his hand, regretting her foolish actions now. But her traitorous mouth continued to speak and she watched in muted horror from the back of her mind as the rage grew wilder and wilder and his eyes grew even brighter the longer she rambled without thought.

“You tried it with Marsheena and that failed! You need to let (Y/n) go before the same thing happens! I’m glad I gave Richard that mixture, at least it kept you out. You’ll likely be nothing but a monster in her eyes now! In fact, you’ll probably be seen as the monster you show to the rest of us!”

A wordless howl escaped Xenon’s throat, clamping his fist even tighter, he lifted into the air like a rocket, flying forward with the only purpose that stayed with him even as the rage pumped through his veins and clouded his mind. He ignored all her desperate efforts to get free, only loosening his hold when her struggles started to slow and his destination drew closer.

He wasted no time in landing softly, slamming down and storming through the curtain of vines and into the cave he had first shown (Y/n). The screams of pain from Selena brought a vicious smile to his face, the seals carved in the rock lighting up a familiar shade of green as they brought agony to the fairy he now clutched by the back of her shirt.

When a high keen was left resounding in the air, he finally waved his hand, bringing the current pain to an end. Selena moaned, twitching slightly as the aftershocks of the sudden painful experience slipped away at an agonizingly slow pace. She had little time to adjust, only barely able to keep her wings from being ripped to shreds on the rocky ground, as he began dragging her towards the terrifying darkness that the beams of moonlight falling into the cave failed to pierce.

She began her struggles anew as Xenon showed no signs of slowing down, still fueled by the rage she had stoked, only one goal in his mind getting steadily closer. A distant splash resounded in Selena’s ears. She began to sob, begging for him to stop, to slow down, to think this through. All she received was a snarl and a quickened pace.

It grew brighter now, bioluminescent moss appearing to swallow the walls and floor at a ferocious pace. Her wings became coated as they brushed the walls, bringing them drooping with the weight to finally make contact with the ground, bringing her new agony as something caught and tore painfully through the thin membrane, soon piercing the veins and coating her wings in the dull silver of her lifeblood. It gave an ivory shine to the moss causing the problems. She would have almost thought it pretty if it hadn’t been causing her such pain. Only now she noticed she had broken off into a scream as the holes grew larger and the blood left a silver trail in her body’s wake.

Tears began to trickle down her face as the path widened and the distant splashing became louder and louder before they suddenly stopped. All to soon, she found herself hefted up, held above a dark pool filled with ripples. She dangled, huffing as she made desperate eye contact with Xenon, begging him silently to let her live. But he paid her little mind, intently focused on a bead of blood slowly, painfully slowly, streaking down one of her ruined wings. She hiccuped, her own eyes drawn with terrified fascination to watch it as best as she could.

For a moment, it wavered, seeming to decide between falling or clinging to the very edge of her wing. Then, it fell.

She inhaled. The blood made a quiet plop as it swirled in the blackness, giving the dark and silent depths a momentary silver hue as it dissipated.

She exhaled. Silence as the last of the color faded away. The dark waters swallowing it whole.

A sudden flurry of activity as a horrifying face lifted from the depths, huge sharp teeth on prominent display, slamming down where her feet had been dangling had she not pulled them up at the last second. She screamed, both from fright and pain as it instead ripped a jagged hole into her wings, leaving a now constant flow of blood to pour into the frothing waters. The black became overshadowed by the silver tinge and the shine of flashing teeth.

She squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to the arm keeping her above the churning water. She flinched when warm breath brushed her ear.

“This is what happens to those that step out of line. You can call me a monster all you want, but it won’t save you from this. And really, you kept me from comforting the cute little mouse. You made me scare her. Don’t you think that makes you a monster too?”

A dark laugh resounded as his grip loosened.

“So, from one monster to another, goodbye, Selena.”

She inhaled sharply. His grip vanished, leaving her to slowly fall towards the black water and the sharp teeth that lurked below.

She exhaled shakily. Her final glimpse of Xenon was the bright green aura he gave off, lighting up the space brighter than even the moss could handle.

Then, she slipped under the water, vision going dark, panic ripping through her as one single flash of light filled her vision. A huge yellow eye with a red slitted pupil drew closer and closer, filling her vision before teeth clamped down on her skull. An agonizing scream attempted escape, water filled her mouth, and her head separated from the rest of her body.

~~~~~

Xenon smiled, his eye twitching lightly as the waters slowly calmed, leaving the world once more unaware of what lurked below. One nuisance down, several more to go. Selena’s death would soon be followed by several more before Xenon could have the little mouse all to himself. The horrible townspeople would be satisfying, but the father, Richard, would be the true final obstacle. He prevented Xenon from obtaining Marsheena, but he would not stop him from taking (Y/n) all to himself.

Xenon began to laugh, trailing out of the cavern, mind already whirling on plans to right the wrongs forced upon him. First, sweet revenge on all who had harmed her or kept her from him, then to bring the mouse back to him, safe and sound in his arms, before finally locking her away so no one could ever take her away again. His laughter grew louder, eyes flickering as his emotions turned down an unstable path, maniacal plans growing and forming as a peal of thunder shook the heavens and the huge storm finally began in a frenzy of lightning and pounding rain.

~~~~~

You sniffled, clutching the steaming cup close to your body as the storm raged on outside. Your father pulled you closer, rubbing up and down your arm in a comforting gesture. You finally felt calm enough to talk, the last vestiges of your breakdown present only in red rimmed eyes. Leaning your head on your father’s broad shoulder, you finally spoke for the first time since he had pulled you in.

“You knew the whole time didn’t you? About me hanging out with Xenon?”

He chuckled, ruffling your hair slightly.

“Yeah. That fairy you always hung out with. Selena. She told me about it. Gave me a warning and that mixture first time she came by. But, you seemed happy, so I just let it be, even with all the problems he’s caused in the past.”

You sighed, despondent from the events that occurred earlier.

“I suppose bringing him along to the festival was a bad idea. They started talking and mentioned mother. He... had a breakdown or something. How does he know about her? What happened before?”

You looked up at him, pleading for a full answer to your question. Your father sighed, looking away slightly.

“I suppose I was going to have to tell you eventually. I just never expected it to come around like this. Your mother used to be like you. Always hanging out in the forest, forging bonds with the creatures there. Only difference was she was close to Xenon from the start. I knew about it, but never met him. I only know that sometime during our courtship, or even before that, Xenon fell in love with Marsheena. But he told her too late. We had already been married for several months and she was displaying signs of a pregnancy. So, she knew she had little time left before she would have to limit or even outright stop such excursions. So, she took the chance to give her goodbyes. Xenon was last. And he took the chance to confess to her before she could tell him. She rejected him and he grew angry. He lashed out, cursing her. He never showed up to her again, but the damage had already been done. She came home and immediately collapsed. The next day, she tripped and fell on a rusty nail. A string of bad luck began to follow her and she stayed home to avoid hurting you accidentally. This unfortunately meant the town formed their own ideas of what happened.”

He chuckled at this point, rubbing the back of his head.

“I suppose it was my own fault for not saying anything, but Ash didn’t want them to start a man hunt for Xenon, even if he had been the source of the problem. Eventually, you were born. But the bad luck that plagued Ash had affected you as well. She dealt with her own bad luck for months, but now she had a baby plagued with that curse as well. She died saving you from being crushed by a runaway cart. She was trampled by the spooked horses, leaving you crying in the middle of the road. The townspeople began to hate you as well. I tried my best to protect you, but the town wasn’t safe and I didn’t want to make you feel cooped up at home. So, I guided you through the woods until the creatures took notice. They began to keep you safe and provide you with the companionship you needed. I suppose they recognized the little bit of Ash I think you. But now Xenon is here and in your life. What am I supposed to do?”

He looked desperate. Defeated. So unlike the strong figure you had seen your father as all your life.

“How can I possibly keep you safe? I’ve failed as a father.”

He buried his face in his hands, choked sobs escaping him. You tried your best to comfort him, but knew there was much more to do before anything could truly be resolved.

“I need to talk to him.”

Your definitive statement had him looking up at you in worry.

“Xenon seems to be ruled by his emotions. I’m sure he didn’t even realize he was scaring me. I’ll wait for him to calm down and then attempt to get to the bottom of this.”

You took his hands in yours, squeezing them lightly in assurance, giving him a peck on the cheek before turning in for the night, the last thing you heard was his mutter of “just like her mother” before you started up the stairs.

~~~~~

The storm continued raging for a week. Every time you attempted to go out, the door was slammed shut violently by the screaming winds. Your father barely managed to get it open, telling you to stay inside while he went to check on things. He came back several hours later, shivering and soaked from the rain. His face was pale as you guided him to a chair, grabbing as many towels as you could carry. He took them, remaining silent for several minutes before starting a fire to heat up the now cold house before collapsing back into the chair.

“The entire town was destroyed,” he finally said, “It could be partly the fault of the storm, but there were vines, huge and thorny. I didn’t venture far, but there were so many impaled on those thorns.”

He shivered, breath shaky as you in turn shivered, imagining the gory sight and glad you hadn’t witnessed such a thing yourself. But, concern grew for your father as he began to board up the house, in spite of the rain lashing at his back as he hammered planks of wood over the windows. Whenever he saw you come near any opening, he quickly ushered you back, as if he was afraid something would reach out and take you.

And one night, something finally happened. You had been fast asleep in your room when a loud crack sounded from below. You stayed frozen for several minutes, unsure on what to do, but leaped into action when a strangled cry and several ominous crashes rang out in quick succession. Grabbing your bag out of habit, and then taking a moment to fill it with anything heavy to use as a makeshift weapon, you rushed for the stairs. Stumbling slightly, your sleep bedraggled form tottered down the stairs until you finally missed a step and tumbled the rest of the way down. You wheezed, certain you had a bruised rib now, but the rest of your breath escaped like you had been punched in the gut as you took in the sight before you.

Rain lashed into the house through the hole where the door used to be. But the water was joined by a slick trail of red, leading outside. Looking further, you noticed huge signs of struggles, furniture overturned, scratches lining the walls and floor like something tried desperately to get away. And upon hearing a scream of pain that resounded even over the rumbles of thunder and pounding rain, you stumbled outside, wincing at your tender ribs.

But the sight you came upon stopped you dead in your tracks. Your father was bleeding out, several large gashes in his sides and one through his head. He was trying desperately to tear the hands from around his neck even as several vines bit deep into his arms, pulling them down to the earth to pin them in place, much like his mangled legs were already nailed into place, vines tightening cruelly, crushing them beyond recognition.

And Xenon was hovering over him, determinedly trying to choke the life out of your father. You screamed, drawing both men’s attention. Xenon’s eyes lit up with horrifying glee even as he steadily crushed the windpipe of the man pinned below him. Your father looked at you in desperation, barely managing to choke out a desperate plea.

“Run! (Y/n), get away from here!”

Your eyes wavered, even as horrible choking sounds emanated from your father. You swayed to and fro as the wind battered into you and the rain lashed at your skin, quickly soaking through your clothes and deep into your skin. Xenon now called out to your horrified, frozen form.

“Just wait right there my little mouse! I’ll take you home where it’s nice and dry as soon as I finish dealing with this filth.”

You flinched at the vitriol dripping from his tone, finally bolting as your father, unable to speak, begged you with his eyes to flee. So you did. You ran as fast as you could past the sight, not stopping even when Xenon called after you, not even when thunder boomed and seemed to shake the very ground beneath you.

Breathing heavy and ribs pulsing with a muted pain, you ran further and further into the woods, desperate to get away, not daring to look behind you for fear of falling over or finding him right behind you. Your bag smacked the backs of your knees as you ran, but you tried not to slow down even when the weight nearly knocked you over as it slammed your knees forward. Rain nearly blinded you, falling directly in your eyes, but you blinked rapidly, continuing to hurtle through the trees with reckless abandon.

You realized you were crying when a sob ripped from your mouth, but the tears quickly mixed with the rain and you could feel no heat from them as they slipped from your face. You hurtled onward, still afraid that you would soon hear your name being called behind you by Xenon.

Your only pause was to try to straighten your bag, only a second, and yet when you went to resume, you smacked straight into the solid chest of Xenon, who was glaring worriedly down at you, eyes lighting up his face in the shadowy underbrush and stormy sky, streaks of red present in his clothes and on his face, even as the rain was swiftly washing it away into a light pink color.

“How did you find me!” you shrieked, trying to swiftly scramble away, slipping on the wet ground, even as his arms quickly encircled your waist and tugged you closer to him.

Before you knew it, he had clasped you tightly to him, lifted off the ground, and was soaring at a dizzying height, far above the tops of even the tallest trees, leaving you acutely aware that Xenon was the only thing preventing you from becoming splattered on the ground. You clung to him, shaking lightly as you dug your face into his neck, almost plastering your form to his, fear of falling overriding your fear of Xenon for the moment. This was horrifyingly different from the first time you had been over the forest.

Xenon chuckled at your reaction, holding you more firmly to him, as the rain continued to fall to the earth below, before he finally answered your question.

“The first time I saw you, you were racing Selena. Of course, even then you had intrigued me and I felt the need to learn more. So, I figured bringing you your bag was as good a place as any to start. Not knowing where you lived, I simply cast a tracking spell onto the bag, guiding me to the owner and giving me the location at all times. I just never got around to removing it, so when I saw you heading off with that bag in tow, I decided to put that spell to use. And will you look at that. It brought me right to you.”

He continued to fly, finally nearing the ground as he mused, more to himself than to you.

“I suppose I should add some more seals to the cave and probably to you. Make sure you can’t go wandering out and into the nearest ditch to injure yourself.”

Upon landing, he rushed into the cave, ignoring your renewed struggles to escape with ease. He only set you down after he had sealed off the exits with more of the vines. Huge and smooth this time, they blocked off your attempts to escape, leaving you to fruitlessly claw at them. You could finally feel the tears dripping down your face, hot streaks that landed on the floor of the cave soundlessly.

Your shoulders shook, too caught up in your grief to notice the arms turning you around and pushing you firmly into the vines. You did notice when his lips crashed into yours, teeth clicking together in his eagerness. His hands traveled from your shoulders down your sides to caress at your hips. Any attempt to tilt your head away and break the lip lock was met with a nip at your jaw and a deeper kiss than before. You cried out when he finally trailed down to your neck and sunk his teeth in. His grip was finally loose enough that you could shove him away, stumbling further into the cave and away from Xenon. But this time, you tripped, feeling your ankle twist unpleasantly.

He took this opportunity to scoop you up and push you against the statue. He grinned triumphantly, your blood still staining his teeth red. He nuzzled at your neck even as he laughed at your attempts to back further away from him. He clutched your arms, pushing you more firmly into the stone statue, leaning in and covering your escape with his wings, encircling your form as his grip grew tighter around your biceps.

“Marsheena may not have been mine, but you are,” his eyes grew brighter and brighter in his twisted excitement, nearly blinding you as you twisted and turned, trying fruitlessly to get away from him, “I can keep you safe, protect you, love you! Don’t you get it! I gave you that curse, it’s only right I break it. I gave you the life you’re currently living, but I can fix it! I can make it better! You just have to... stay here... where it’s safe.”

He was panting by the end, barely able to contain his raging emotions, eyes now flickering swiftly between blindingly bright and a green so dark it was nearly black even as he leaned in to bite at your neck a few more times, nuzzling into you and eclipsing your view of the cave with his wings, leaving him the only thing you could see. He was terrifying and you had nowhere to run, caught between a rock and a maniacal fairy, with a storm that continued outside, abating ever so slowly as he leaned further and further into you.

I think of Selena’s wings as similar to a dragonfly’s wings, which are made mainly of membrane and veins. Butterfly wings are also formed of membrane, but are covered in scales and hair, hence why they have color and aren’t see through like dragonfly wings are.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fairy #yandere fairy x reader #yandere fae #yandere mythology #yandere monsters

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jamisonwritestf2trash · 8 months

Note

Since i know you LOVE the man...

What creepypastas (or internet horror) interests Medic? Give us all the details about how he interacts with that media hehe

Medic and Creepypastas!

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What a way to break up the absolute trauma this man has been going through on my blog.

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Spoilers for these Creepypastas, probably. The Russain Sleep Experiment, Eyeless Jack, Candle Cove, and SmileDog.exe

ALSO TWS: MENTIONS OF BLOOD, GORE, VIOLENCE, AND DEATH

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As for interacting with creepypastas, he's so medical with it. He's analyzing it from every angle. He can't actually understand the horror because most of the things that would scare us is just fascinating to Medic. Also, I think he once tried to enter the fandom and was horrified lmao.

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His first introduction to creepypasta was the Russian Sleep Experiment. (Is this anyone else's gateway drug? It was mine, lmao) He was probably looking up youtube videos of the most disturbing experiments for fun, or to see if he could attempt any of them, and then he saw that one fucking picture. Instant click. Even though he realized instantly that it was a work of fiction, he continued to watch the video, finding himself insanely interested in the story. Debating the logistics in his head and noting down the most interesting parts. Figures he could make a type of gas with chemicals designed to keep people awake, even make it better so no one goes batshit insane. Ultimately, he decided against it, as he couldn't risk the team ripping open their body's or their skin falling off in sheets. It'd be more effort than it's worth. Imagine the mess he'd have to clean up! He's only one man after all.

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Eyeless Jack confused him. Sure, it's a fictional story, but how could a person, fictional or otherwise, bot wake up during such an invasive procedure. Let alone not bleed out due to a general lack of surgery skills. Does understand the want to eat human organs. He's just a little curious, you know? So he can't blame a guy for eating peoples kidneys. Even though he figures that's not the best organ to eat due to its functions, buts that's neither here nor there. May or may not have asked the mercs to volunteer for a little test of sorts while they were sleeping. No one accepted his offer. But a few might be convinced by some sly offers of being pocketed for the next few fights, judging my the screaming coming from one of the mercs room.

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Candle Cove is an interesting thought experiment to him. He wonders through the entire story if it was simply a case of a shared memory, people thinking they remember something, or if the characters were just lying. He wanted to test this, figuring that a small bit of psychological trickery was okay. He wanted to see if people would latch onto the idea of Candle Cove being real. Subtly brings it up, not being too shocked when Scout is the first one to question if he ever saw the show, claiming it seemed familiar. Eventually, the others followed. Medic sat in the corner, watching them taking notes as they debated the finer details. Eventually, the other mercs noticed he wasn't adding to the conversation despite being the one to bring it up.

"Oh, ja, I lied it's not real. I just wanted to test a theory. Danke, for proving my theory, goodbye now." And he just leaves. The other mercs have a moment of being baffled and concerned at the fact that they had just made fake memories. Memories they actually believed. They hope Medic doesn't try this again.

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SmileDog.exe would honestly be Medic's pet if he was a real. But alas, he can only go off the story. He wonders if the image could really affect people in the way claimed. That image could strike someone so deeply that they find themselves seeing it all the time. He's a little ashamed to admit he stared at the photo for a good hour to see if it would appear in his dreams. He was disappointed to find it didn't. He finds it laughable that people wouldn't just share the picture of Smile Dog to save themselves from death. It seems like a simple solution. Even if it is prank mail, the second he starts seeing it everywhere, he'd forward the message. (He wouldn't, I think he'd actually rather die than ruin his reputation by sending chain emails, lmao)

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Sorry if this is more along the lines of "He wouldn't fucking do that!" Concidering Medic isn't doing a whole lot of testing on his teammates, and I know a lot of people think he would have just done them, but I think he values the consent and sometimes the mental and physical wellness of his teammates. Sure he'll put them in some pain for a surgury of two, but he'd never directly ignore them saying no to one of his experiments. At least I think so.

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Uh, I hope you like this! I actually haven't thought about creepypastas in a while 😭 I kinda miss that time in my life, but at the same time, it was so bad, lmao. Sorry it's not super long, and might not have been exactly what you were asking for, but I was super excited to write this and I'm super glad it's done!

Working through asks! Uh, the Mercs losing a close friend on the battlefield is next, then some other asks. I'm sorry for the long pauses in between!

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #team fortress headcanons #tf2 hcs #tf2 medic

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lake-archive · 1 month

Text

The Start Of Their Story

AO3 Link - CATZ Discography - A Shared Love Between Our Posse (Masterlist)

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Gentaro Yumeno, Ann Wolff (OC)

Summary: Gentaro manages to bump into Ann at the usual café. And needless to say they seem rather… Agitated if anything. And even then things lean into a little more than expected.

Tags: Yumeno Gentaro-centric, POV Yumeno Gentaro, Original Character(s), Major Original Character(s), Conversations, One Shot, Short One Shot, Series, No Spoilers, Canon Era, During Canon, Pre-Second Division Rap Battle (Hypnosis Mic), Post-First Division Rap Battle (Hypnosis Mic), POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited

Words: 1,378

When someone leaves an impression it is hard to forget them… Gentaro should know by now, given that he had bumped into someone who was of said interest. An unusual writer, one who could outdo anyone in amount alone. Someone who had a never ending flow of inspiration, managing to put it all down on paper with no issues whatsoever, as if a writing machine. And yet the one behind it is not a machine but a human. Needless to say, anyone would be baffled, speechless and even terrified. He sure was, especially as a fellow writer. Was this even a reality or had he dreamed this up all along? He had been wondering and yet when seeing them a few times from afar it was less of a dream. They were not a fragment of their imagination, they were real. Very much so. And it was always getting to him. Though he had slowly started to accept that fact as well as their existence. The more he had bumped into them, the less surreal it became and he managed for reality to settle in. He had finally gotten to accept it, even if it took a little while.

And yet, meeting a person who may as well be a writing factory was hard to accept. Not just that but also studying the field of literature… That alone had caught Gentaro’s attention. An unusual writer… That was what he remembered Ann for, at least for the time being. An eager writer but that might have been an understatement.

He had encountered them a few more times and they were always eager to present him the progress or latest ideas they had… Which meant eyeing document after document, character sheet after character sheet. Or skimming through pages while listening through the thought out progress. Truly, this was a lot to take in each time. The potential was there and they would be doing this day in and out, even if for them it was a quick progress. He was at least slightly envious, watching them do all of this with ease. But all the same he wanted to get it out there, help them get out there. It would be a shame if their work got buried after all, would it not? And perhaps he might have already accepted defeat…

In any case, he first had to wait for the opportunity to make such an offer. For his luck, the offer would be made earlier than expected. Because when he had sat inside the café one day he spotted the student in question, waving them over. It took them a bit to register yet they had turned to him soon enough. And once they did he could see how exhausted they looked which had him a little curious. This was an unusual sight. No, not unusual. The two were not that close nor had they known each other for that long. So rather it was a first sight for him, even if they tried to mask it. Even once sitting down.

“Hello Yumeno–Sensei. What a surprise.” They greeted him as they sat down on the chair, right across the table. “I did not expect to meet you here today.”

“I shall say the same for thee.” He responded calmly. “It is unusual for thou to show up at this time. Has something happened?”

He could see them flinch for a split second, then fumbling around in their seat. They hesitated to answer, telling him all he needed. They really needed to not say a word and he would know that something had happened… Something they probably wished to hide. And yet they were doing anything but that right now. Even the biggest of fools would be able to see right through them. And even then, they still tried to cover it up with a sudden smile while turning back to face him, shaking their head.

“No. Nothing happened at all.” It’s a lie.

“Really? Thank goodness.” Another lie. He had just decided to not ask them about it. And honestly, it was probably none of his business to begin with. After all, the two were not that close.

“Although you suddenly called me here. Is there something you need from me?”

Of course, he should have expected that question. After all, there always was a reason, wasn’t there? Or maybe there always had to be a reason for them. But it is not as if he had no reason to approach them. In fact, this was perfect timing… For him, he was not sure about them right now. “There is but… It can wait, if thou art not feeling—”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m here now, aren’t I? Fill me in!” They interrupted, almost insisting. For a moment Gentaro himself had doubt, if this was really the time. And yet…

“Art thou certain?”

“Yeah. So if you got something, tell me.” They nodded, trying to keep their body calm, making no sudden movements. And yet, they were gazing around all the same, sometimes towards the window nearby, as if looking for someone. They were agitated, to say the least. He could tell.

“Art thou certain?”

“Y… Yeah! Yes yes! Totally! Go on! Please!”

And yet, he was reconsidering it in the end. Sure, he had an offer for them to make and yet… No, it would just be wrong, wouldn’t it? One had to be literally blind and or oblivious to notice that this was not the time. They wouldn’t listen to begin with, given that their mind seemed occupied with something else. The question was what exactly? He was curious… But alas, it would remain unanswered for some time.

“Nevermind. Thou art not concentrating.” He mentioned with a sigh, making their head turn to him in one swoop.

“Huh!? But I am! Don’t leave me hanging like this now!”

“I shouldn’t. Apologies. Maybe another time.”

“S… So I’ll have to live without figuring this out now?”

No, that had not been– Hah, he’s not good at dealing with people sometimes, he had to admit. A chance ruined perhaps… But… “No, I intend to inform thee, when the time is right. Thou just seem… How shall I put this? Stressed.”

A quick flinch in their seat, almost at the brink of sweating. “W… Well… Uh… Maybe… Student life is getting to me… Haha…” A terrible liar.

“Of course it would be stressful. Though I have little experience in that regard.” He said, a light chuckle to somewhat lighten the mood and keep up a polite appearance, raising no suspicion in any regard. They didn’t need to know that he was not believing a word coming out of their mouth. And yet, that had gotten him a little more interested… Just what was this normal student hiding from him? And besides, they were not the only one holding a secret here but this was a detail only he had been aware of at the time. “Perhaps we should hold this meeting at a different time, when thou feel less stressed maybe.”

“Huh? But I ju—”

“There is no rush. I do not mind waiting.” He interrupted. “Thou may contact me when it is most convenient for thee. I can make room.”

“Contact? Wait… Are you asking for my number or something?”

“No, I ask for thy homing pigeon.”

“Homing pigeon!? Hold on I don’t—”

“That was a lie.”

And a moment of silence. What a naive response. He thought that the joke here was more than obvious. And yet, it had left them speechless it seemed, at least a little. “R… Right… My number it is.”

“Oh, if thou do not want to—”

“It’s fine! I don’t mind! I just… Never expected this to happen. After all, exchanging contacts with a well known author… Sounds surreal.”

“Oh please, we are both just people. There is nothing unusual about this.” Or there shouldn’t be.

“M… Maybe, just… Ah, nevermind! Let’s just get this over with, alright? I… Will contact you once I have time then. Heh…”

An underwhelming ending for this chapter yet this is not the end of their shared story. No, far from it… Because Gentaro had a feeling that this story between them had just started taking shape.

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drabbles-mc · 7 months

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Best Bet

Horacio Carrillo & Connie Murphy

For @narcosfandomdiscord's Day of Comfort: create a fanwork about a character getting exactly what they need from someone unexpected

Warnings: 18+, language, mentions of kidnapping

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Playing fast and loose with the word exactly but I had this idea and I couldn't just not follow through on it. So here we are. Enjoy!

Narcos Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @boomclapxox @nessamc @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @narcolini @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

She stood there for a few seconds, eyes darting back and forth between the slip of paper that she held in one hand and the phone she held in the other. It was, ironically enough, the first time her hands had stopped shaking all day.

Javi said that he would call, or that he would show back up. At this point Connie would’ve settled for a goddamn smoke signal if it gave her some answers. And she trusted him. For the most part, at least. She believed that he would try, but she also knew enough to know that even when they tried their hardest, things didn’t always pan out the way that they wanted them to.

Which was why she had her laundry list of phone numbers that Steve had written down for her a long time ago. Names and numbers of people to call depending on whatever circumstance was unfolding. Connie hadn’t ever needed it before all of this. A few hours prior she still didn’t believe that she needed it as long as she had Javi. But the minutes kept ticking by, turning into hours, and she still had nothing to show for it. Nothing from Javi, nothing from Steve, nothing from anyone.

She scanned over all of the names for the umpteenth time. She read them all even though she’d decided upon the first read who exactly she was going to call. All of the numbers on the sheet in front of her were for emergencies—none of them were people that she would ever call just to chat. When Steve gave her the run-through on all of them, he reminded her of that. There was one number in particular, though, that was very much a, “In Case of Fire: Break Glass” number. Steve didn’t say it in so many words, but the look on his face said more than his mouth ever would.

There was no fire, but Steve had been kidnapped so Connie figured that that was close enough. So she dialed the number.

“What?” he answered, annoyance slicing through the phone clear as day.

Connie’s brows immediately drew together. She didn’t know if she was more confused or annoyed by the reaction. “Excuse me?”

Now it was his turn to sound confused. He hesitated for a moment. “Who is this?”

“It’s Connie.” She paused, and when she didn’t get a response, she said, “Murphy.” Another pause. “Steve’s—”

“I know,” he finally replied. Clearing his throat, he said, “He’s not here.”

She let out a dry laugh in contrast to the way his statement immediately made tears spring to the edges of her eyes. “I’m aware.”

“What do you need, Mrs. Murphy?”

She shook her head, fighting the urge to crumple the paper that she was holding. All the good it seemed to be doing her. “What do you think I need?”

He sighed, trying not to let the frustration smoldering in his chest over the one-way ticket to Spain that got thrown on his desk get taken out on her. “If I knew that—”

“How do you not know? Aren’t you,” she shook her head, tossing the slip of paper to the side, “aren’t you all supposed to be looking out for each other? What the hell are you all doing? Steve is your—”

“He’s not,” he stopped her short. Even before his reassignment, he probably would’ve made the same statement. It carried a little more truth with it now, though. He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mrs. Murphy.”

Connie felt her bottom lip starting to tremble. This was supposed to be her Hail Mary. “They…they took him.”

There was a long pause before Carrillo spoke up again. “What?”

“They took him.”

“When?”

“Earlier. He never made it home. His,” she tried to take a breath to collect herself, “his car was still there in front of the fucking garage.”

“Who knows?”

“Javi.” She paused. “You.”

“That’s it?” She dropped her head into her hand for a moment, not that Carrillo could see that she was doing. The pause was long enough to make him start to repeat himself. “Mrs. Murphy, does any—”

“Just you and Javi. That’s it.”

He sighed. “It’s better that way.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.” She started to pace. “It’s been—I haven’t heard anything.”

Carrillo didn’t have it in him to lie to her and tell her that no news was good news. There was no guarantee of that. No news was just no news for them, unfortunately. It might’ve meant that Javi was making progress and didn’t have the time to call, but it could have just as easily meant that Javi had gotten to the end of the rope and didn’t like what he’d found and was avoiding calling her. Given the stakes, Carrillo wasn’t sure which one was more likely. He did hope though, for the sake of her and for Javi, that the silence was prompted by the former instead of the latter.

“Peña will find him.” He stopped himself before adding on, “One way or another.”

“That’s what I thought when he left my apartment hours ago but now…now I don’t know. He said he was going to take care of this, but—”

“Then he will. If Peña said he was going to take care of it, he’ll take care of it.”

“Why didn’t he tell you?”

“What?”

“I know why Javi didn’t tell anyone else with the agency. Alarm bells and whatever the hell else his excuses were. But I know you…” she trailed off, realizing a few words too late that she was talking herself down a path she didn’t really have any right to go on. “I’ve heard. And I know that you three are your own team. So I don’t get why Javi wouldn’t tell you.”

“Because unlike you, Peña knows that they’re shipping me off before the day is out.” The silence on the line was suffocating. “There’s very little I can do to help you, Mrs. Murphy. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck.” The word came out quieter, sadder than she meant for it to.

There was nothing that Carrillo could do to change his own circumstances or hers at this point. He wished that there was, for either of them, but there wasn’t. He was running against a different clock than Steve was, but it left him unable to do anything other than try and figure out the right things to say to the woman on the other end of the line. It wasn’t his strong suit.

“Javier knows more than he will ever tell you, Mrs. Murphy,” he tried to choose his words carefully. “There are no guarantees in anything we do here but if you’re going to have someone looking for Steve, you want it to be Peña.”

She scoffed, not really meaning to. “Right.”

“I trust him,” he offered up. “I don’t know how much comfort that brings you, but I do. I trust Agent Peña. You should trust him too.”

Connie had the nagging suspicion that Carrillo always spoke with an air of finality. Even so, it was strangely comforting in the moment. Easy to believe. She’d let herself have that. “You sound so sure.”

“About that? Yes. The only other person who has your husband’s back more than Javier, is you, Mrs. Murphy.” He paused for a moment. “He’s your best bet.”

“Thank you. And I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you weren’t—”

“It’s fine.” He didn’t want her apologies, not when she hadn’t done anything wrong. He also didn’t want her trying to soothe over the sting of his own situation, or even really bring it up at all. Clearing his throat, he said, “I hope you hear from him soon.”

Connie nodded, knowing that him could’ve just as easily been either of the men in question at that point. “Yeah, me too.”

#narcos #narcoctober #horacio carrillo #connie murphy #narcos netflix #narcos fanfiction #narcos netflix fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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1bringthesun · 2 years

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okay i do NOT know how tumblr works so i’m making this new post bcuz someone commented about the Mori comment i made last post so basically i’ll go over a crash course on why i don’t think he’s a pedo!

1) he calls Elise his wife

yup, he says this in an omake of bsd. however, the word he uses in this context is 妻 (tsuma), which is used to mean wife NOW, but meant something more along the lines of “lifelong partner” in the past. he’s being a screwy bastard and trying to toy with Fukuzawa by using a word that means either “wife” or “partner,” but basically he’s trying to see how far he can take it. calling a kid your wife is strange, sure, but calling a kid your partner could really mean anything.

2) he sees Elise naked

tbh i’m not really sure why this one proves anything. he’s trying to put clothes ON her, not take them off. he doesn’t look aroused or anything. actually, he looks… no thoughts brain empty. there’s not a single thought in that head of his at this moment, much less any sexual comments about Elise’s body.

3) Elise is based off of Yosano, Mori was obsessed with Yosano

once again, there’s nothing inherently sexual here. he abused Yosano (not with the intention to hurt her, but with the idea that her mental and physical well-being were a worthy sacrifice for the hundreds of thousands of other lives on the line), he didn’t prey on her? he canonically feels remorseful over Dazai’s lack of will to live, so it’s not too much of a stretch to say he has regrets about Yosano as well. in that case, Elise would represent the petulant and innocent attitude Yosano could have developed instead of her hardened views of the world. i think he sees Elise as a daughter, and i think he regrets not being able to treat Yosano as one either

4) “i prefer those 12 and under”

i’m foggy on the details, but he says something to that effect in a conversation with Kouyou. The context is that she’s calling him a capable boss, to which he replies, “i prefer my subordinates to be younger” (or something…). once again, this isn’t something that strikes me as inherently pedophilic. he likes young subordinates because they are weak and impressionable, and that sort of docile attitude just so happens to fit in well with his pastime of mansplain manipulate malewifing the yokohama underground. anyway, it’s nothing sexual. his organization literally human traffics, and he’s never once stepped in to do strange things to the children on their way to be sold. he couldn’t care less about them, he just wants smart yet dependent and naive underlings. also anyone who read this scene as them flirting is very ill-read in my opinion. they are not flirting. stick your shipping agenda back into fanon interpretation of characters. Mori and Kouyou are girlbossing the entirety of the port mafia together, but they’re not girbossing each other.

5) his character sheet

his character sheet does indeed have “young girls” in the likes category, but let me amend this- the words used are 幼女, aka “maiden.” you might say, “tai, japanese doesn’t differentiate singulars and plurals,” to which i reply, “have we seen him even interacting with woman out of his job?” the answer is no. he basically speaks to Elise and Kouyou, and there’s his female companionship. he’s married to his job, guys. he doesn’t have the time to frolic around with young women. but anyway, it doesn’t say “young girls,” it says “maiden(s)” so just take the plurality in the translation with a grain of salt. it could be referring to one single girl (Elise cough cough) (his daughter cough cough). also please ignore how astoundingly high res this image is.

6) Mori and fukuzawa’s argument

who’s surprised at this point when i say that this was also a mistranslation? not me! Mori says something to the effect of, “are you still fawning over stray cats?” to which Fukuzawa replies “and are you fawning over that girl still?” it was translated, for some inconceivable reason, as “only as much as you fawn over young girls” (or something) which i just don’t understand. yenpress, look me in the eye, this is not you. anyway zenki soukoku beloved.

7) letter to nathaniel

Mori plans on killing nathaniel and margret in the guild arc, right? so he has absolutely zero reason to lie when he sends them a letter saying “i want your ship and also you guys’ lives. thanks uwu” right ????? in the official translation in that letter, he calls Elise his child. idk how much more specific you can get there, chief. Elise is Mori’s daughter, your honor.

is this all i have to say? absolutely not. i could talk my head off about why Mori isn’t a pedo for ages, and i can connect it to “vita sexualis,” “the dancing girl,” Asagiri’s own opinion on Ougai’s legacy as an author and general, the irl Mori and Yosano’s relationship in comparison to the bsd version, and also the opinions of the fans in different languaged-fanbases. unfortunately, it’s way too early for my brain to function, and i now depart to feel the warm embrace of my very own Yoshiko chan. goodbye, tumblr, and i hope you agree with what i’ve said in this long-winded message~~

#mori ougai #elise #bungou stray dogs #rant #spare me please #god i have too many thoughts #someone kill me now #anyway Mori is so pretty and you guys just aren’t ready to handle his swag

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origamiplushie · 4 months

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+1. Eddie has a surprisingly insightful conversation

Part 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

Read on AO3.

Nearly a month had passed since they finally defeated the Upside Down for good. Since Eddie was welcomed back with tearful hugs and a very thorough dressing down from one Dustin Henderson for being a reckless self-sacrificing idiot. Since they celebrated finally putting Henry-slash-Vecna-slash-One in the ground.

Nearly three weeks since Eddie got to see his uncle again and hug him.

One week since a shadowy government organization sweeped everything under the rug and managed to clear Eddie’s name.

And two days since Eddie finally felt that everything had calmed down enough to give into the kids begging to have him DM another game for them. Only this time he had two extra players in Lady Applejack and the infamous Will the Wise.

He’d already had the honor of playing with Erica so he knew any campaign he planned had better be good enough to meet her meticulous standards. And while the 11-year-old was intimidating, Eddie was much more nervous about DM-ing for Will Byers.

The whole year Mike, Dustin and Lucas kept talking about their friend Will who used to play with them before he moved to California. They credited him with a lot of their more memorable strategies and also their general caution when it came to hidden traps and such, which had meant their characters made it through relatively unharmed compared to other Hellfire newcomers.

They had hyped up Will's campaigns so much that Eddie really wanted to impress the kid. So he thought he would add in some of the old characters and other references from Will’s old campaigns into the storyline.

That's the reason he now finds himself standing on the Hendersons’ doorstep. He had hoped Dustin might have some of his old notes and character sheets still lying around somewhere and to his relief Dustin said he did.

“Wait here, I’ll see if I can find them!”

Eddie awkwardly perched on the floral sofa and tried to look less like a bad influence in case Dustin’s mom happened to walk into the room. He looked around and fiddled with the rings on his hands when he saw a cat walking into the room and jumping onto an armchair like it owned the place.

Suddenly he remembered the examples of resurrections Steve had listed off for him.

He vaguely recalled Steve mentioning that Dustin's cat had gotten eaten by a demodog and then was the second being to be brought back to life.

And look the thing is, he still hadn’t quite come to terms with his whole painful death and sudden reawakening in the upside down. Unlike the other horrors he had witnessed during spring break he hadn’t had a chance to talk to someone about it either. Or at least anyone who could really understand what he went through.

He had accepted that at least for now talking to someone else who had died wasn’t in the cards for him. But according to Steve, technically Mews had experienced the same thing too. Hell, their deaths were even very similar because they had both been eaten by demo-monsters.

Feeling silly Eddie slowly kneeled in front of the armchair and carefully reached out a hand for the cat to sniff.

“Hey there, I‘m Eddie and I don’t know if you can tell, I’m, well, kinda like you.” Mews gave a little mrrp and butted his head against his hand, apparently satisfied with whatever he had smelled.

Eddie smiled a little. “ Well, not like you in that you are of course a very honorable feline and as you can tell by the lack of ears and whiskers I am but a lowly human - only good for scritches and treats,” he continued, dramatically laying a hand on his forehead in shame. Then his smile dropped and his expression turned more contemplative.

“I’m pretty sure you can’t even understand me. Not completely sure because after, let’s say, recent experiences; I’m willing to believe anything but cats understanding human speech seems a little far fetched. But I can’t really talk to anyone else about this. Steve said Will seems to still be sensitive ‘bout the whole undead thing and I don’t not want to like, further traumatize the guy by making him talk about it again.”

He started slowly petting Mews as he talked, falling deeper into thoughts as he justified why he was talking to a cat about his issues.

“I could try to talk to the chief but me and him aren’t really on the best terms with each other. He still doesn’t completely trust me even if I’m trying to appreciate my new lease on life and stay on the straight and narrow. Hah, and it's not like I’m gonna start respecting authority or anything like that so fair to say the dislike‘s mutual!”

“I know Max would get it and she would not hesitate to hit me over the head if she thought for a moment I was trying to not hurt her feelings or whatever but.” He swallowed looking down. “I don’t think I could stand to hear about her death. Not after seeing Chrissy– ”

He took a deep breath, physically shaking his head as if to shake off the horrific memory.

“So that leaves you. Because apparently you also got eaten and then brought back. And you seem happy and calm and relaxed and I don’t know if you have happened to notice but I am very much not handling this as well as you are! I was hunted down and eaten like, like some kind of zebra in a nature documentary! And now I am alive again and I have to just keep living my life like a normal human being as if I wasn’t a zebra for a hot second!”

He stops, realizing that he was getting loud and might attract attention if he continued. He definitely did not want Henderson or his mom walking in and seeing him right now.

“I died and now I’m alive and don’t get me wrong, I’m super grateful supergirl bothered to resurrect me but I don’t know how I’m supposed to move on when I still remember dying.”

Mews turns to lie on his back, closing his eyes and purring as if the armchair was the most lavish king size canopy bed to ever exist.

Eddie stared at the cat thoughtfully.

“I guess you’re right. This is my second chance at life and my last chance ended with me feeling miserable and hopeless. I was sure I was either going to die or spend the rest of my life in prison. But now here I am - alive and a free man. Maybe I should just focus on living this second life to the fullest. I ended my first life being worried about the future so why should I waste time doing the same thing in this one?”

He stood up, suddenly filled with determination.

“Thanks Mews. You felines clearly are as smart as they say!”

With a final pat for Mews, Eddie walked off to see where Dustin had wandered off to, a new pep in his step, resolved to find joy in whatever the future threw at him.

#stranger things #eddie munson #5+1 things #stranger things fic #my fic #and it is finally done!!#my first proper fic🥳#hope you enjoyed!

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espectres · 7 months

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CHARACTER INFO SHEET.

NAME: Suzuki Shou. 鈴木将。

NAME MEANING: 鈴 ; bell. 木 ; tree/wood. 将 ; leader/highest commander.

ALIAS: Leader; given to him by his lackeys, pronounced in english, in katakana.

ETHNICITY: mixed white/asian (japanese.).

THREE HEADCANONS YOU’VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE:

☆ > Shou took out an entire Claw division not long before the 7th division was destroyed, the details are interesting.

☆ > Shou, for the most part, has a good head on his shoulders, he can figure out difficult situations, he can't be tricked with ease, he can keep his cool and his mind gearing through stress. But he is also quite the forgetful person, and has troubles concentrating and a tendency of zoning out when his guard is down. It's a mix between his nature and the effects of insomnia. Cue to education problems.

☆ > This one is a little less personal, but Shou starts school after the first winter break after Claw is disbanded, a couple months before the events of confession arc. It sits things nicely in my brain I hope you can see my vision.

THREE THINGS YOUR CHARACTER LIKES DOING IN THEIR FREE TIME:

Taking care of his hamsters, sketching whenever he has the chance, and after Claw gets disbanded he gets a severe case of wanderlust. He didn't have a lot of free time, back then. Despite traveling a lot, it was all for organization purposes, so it's no wonder he wants to explore a lot of places on his own, without anyone bossing him around.

SIX PEOPLE YOUR CHARACTER LIKES/LOVES:

♡ > Toichiro: that's his father, yes he might have been a neglectful, abusive and downright terrible father, but between the monster and the self-proclaimed world dominator and terrorist boss- he was family and good, at some point, and even now he's working to change and become better. And Shou loved him, still loves him, despite everything. ( yes, love can exist in an abusive relationship, no, it doesn't make the abuse any less terrible. )

♡ > Natsumi: Shou's mother! Although their relationship got strained by years of estrangement and lies, Shou recognizes how much his mother is trying to mend and do her best for his sake, and she really is trying her best, dealing with the aftermath of Claw and all the legal issues and stress while beginning to truly know who her son is and love him fully, powers and complicated past and difficult traits all together.

♡ > Fukuda: Shou's "babysitter" ever since he was 10 going 11, he took care of Shou throughout some of the most difficult times of his days in Claw, healing his injuries and keeping him company and looking after his health when Shou's father was away traveling and his mother was nowhere to be found. Even trying to teach him whatever education he missed ( despite eventually giving up ). Shou & Fukuda share a very strong bond, but there are times when their personalities clash and their differences get between establishing something unbreakable.

♡ > Higashio: The last addition to Shou's resistance team. Despite not having been around since long, his collected attitude and absent-minded wisdom made him so much of a teacher to Shou, with the lessons being on life in general and a whole lot of street smarts and high culture. Higashio may not have been the strongest psychic out there, but he has Shou impressed more often than not with the simplest of things.

♡ > Ritsu: RITSU !!! Shou's first friend, Shou's best friend, his ride or die, his person his special guy!!!!!!! What they have is beyond your comprehension.

♡ > Ootsuki: First assigned as a bodyguard slash "attack dog" for Shou by his father, the two didn't get along so well at the beginning, with how Ootsuki's time at Claw was especially difficult and all the resentment he held to the Suzuki name. Eventually, Ootsuki began to see Shou for his own admirable person and not just a spawn of the Claw boss. And being the youngest in Shou's resistance team, they understood each other best, made a pretty strong and well coordinated duo in fights, too.

TWO THINGS YOUR CHARACTER REGRETS:

> Not having acted sooner before his father's plan started.

> Acting against his father ... to begin with. Shou would never admit that to anyone ( sometimes not even himself ), but there are times when he sees himself and others he cared for struggling to live after Claw is done, and it all comes down to him and his resistance.

TWO PHOBIAS YOUR CHARACTER HAS:

Agoraphobia ( trapped; helpless; panicked; embarrassed; scared. ) , Pyrophobia ( fire/burns ).

#Shou's given name literally meaning leader vs his men actually calling him that for a meaningful worthy reason......#hi welcome to more nonsense with peach. i love making shit up for shou. wth.#ショウ ; i realized that youth is grey. / headcanon.#ショウ ; attack is the best defense! / dash games.

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remedyxtragedy · 12 days

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IDIOSYNCRATIC CHARACTER PT 2

Now, onto the main group of Idiosyncratic. As I said in the last post, I'm just going to provide a basic description of these characters and later on when I've fully revised their sheets, I'll post them here so you all can get the full picture. (Also brace yourself this is probably going to end up being long as all hell. AND IN ADDITION, Imma have to make a third post since this is extremely long and I think it's making tumblr have a brain fart)

Calixte Stanhope (Main Character) --

Calixte is thought of as a very mysterious, no-nonsense and reticent fellow by nearly every actor who crosses his path and yet at the same time he radiates a very strong aura of confidence and certainty. No matter how badly people want to peel back his facade and dissect his mind, all they can really do is imagine whatever storms are raging inside him, every ounce of thought and emotion remaining well hidden behind the blank, impassive face of a man who's heart has already been calloused and shattered by woes unspoken. Less words wasted on people he deems underserving of his knowledge, who he really is, or why he chooses to work in secrecy when he clearly knows things that can benefit the majority, means way more time to just sit, observe, and ponder--which has become such a habit of his, staring endlessly into the abyss thinking about only God knows what, that he's been properly nicknamed, 'daydreamer'. The kind of deep thinking and conspiring Calixte has been seen engrossing himself in has long since drifted into obsoletion for a lot of people, a few days in Baltimore and most actors reach the understanding that no amount of hankering, dreaming, plotting, or praying will deliver you from your reality--the young man's frequent daydreaming would therefore suggest that there's a lot in his head, apparently, still worth pondering about even after all he's seen and endured, which has led many to grow very skeptical of his claims of being 'an open book'. The young man upon his arrival would be quick to make it known to his fellow actors and every resident of Baltimore who only viewed him as another guinea pig to poke around for their twisted enjoyment that he has only two goals in mind--to reunite with the woman he was ripped away from by an unforgiving train and to wear the blood of the person responsible for their abrupt parting,--and he will not take kindly to anyone or anything that gets in his way. He's also made it abundantly clear that his quixotic willingness to prevail by any means necessary is grounded not in fear of Whitman's hegemony or an intrinsic impulsion to survive, but rather an intense thirst for vengeance that feels almost embedded in the very marrow of his being. This sentiment is what beckons him to reach the finish line, that great castle in the sky, and thensome. While the future is clearly dreary and grim for most of the sad irrelevant souls who clutter the world around him, in his mind his future in already nestled in the palm of his hands and the second he gets opportunity to do so, he will shape it to his liking and manifest the happily ever after he's always deserved. It's just a matter of, how long it'll take, who he'll have to kill, and who he'll have to begrudgingly befriend before can fulfill the burden that was rested upon him as the Calixte Stanhope Class (at beginning): Unremarkable (all new actors start out as unremarkables) Things he always keeps on his person: A journal which he writes entries in on a regular basis, a somewhat old fashioned polaroid camera, and some medication for an unclarified heart condition of his

Sonia Eastaughffe --

She's a very eccentric and boisterous young lady who throughout her few years in Baltimore become a very warm and familiar face a lot of actors look forward to seeing. She's a bit of a similar case to Calixte not only in the sense that she's very secretive about who she is, but also that there's not much known about her except for the obvious which is that she's significantly younger than most actors and demonstrates an unusual indifference towards everything around her. She completes her daily deeds without complaint, does a few extra just for the hell of it, and has performed well enough to be able to afford her own home and start her own business, a humble little beauty boutique/inn where all actors are welcome. It's extremely strange how she's managed to make a good living for herself within such an unbelievably small amount of time while it takes some actors over twenty years to get where they are, which may not even equate to how much work they've done. In that regard, Sonia truly is a complete and utter anomaly. Some even say that she's a particular favorite of the big mayor himself who's gone onto publicly praise her and coin her as an 'exemplary little popsy' numerous times, which also might be confirming that behind that pretty, innocent face is one of the many absolutely deranged partisans of Whitman. It's an uncomfortable thing to think about considering how many people she's welcomed into her shop with that same old delightful smile and innocence that's become so synonymous with her, but it could explain her noticeable unwillingness to speak down on Whitman even she's in aperfectly safe environment to do so. Some continue to speculate that she's actually related to him in some way even though there's no such evidence to back that up since she poofed into Baltimore like every other actor, meanwhile others take a more plausible route suppose that right off the bat she must've just followed the sacred actor motto religiously and that's how she got where she is. Regardless, it's up to actors to decide whether or not she's a person worth trusting and emulating. It's probably worth mentioning that she seems to like Calixte quite a bit for how much he openly distrusts her, its a rarity she's grown to enjoy... Class (at the beginning): Splendor Things she always carries on her person: a very odd dagger, some perfume, and an assortment of little knives she hides all about her person

Quelq'un--

(Had a way better picture but tumblr was being difficult and wouldn't let me upload it so I had to make a quick doodle of bro) He's actually a very compassionate, calm, and patient man who will gladly help any actor who confides in him, sometimes even going out of his way to help those who don't even want anything to do with him which is evident in his many efforts to guide Calixite on the right path when he first woke up in Baltimore. And despite his willingness to help anyone, he mostly hovers around Calixte for some reason and shows a greater concern for him more than anybody, which is interesting, just like everything else about Quelq'un. No one has the slightest idea where he comes from, why he just popped up out of the blue when Calixte arrived in Baltimore, or why he seems to have a creepily deep understanding of everybody he interacts with--but if one things for certain, his mere existence has brought some closure to actors who've dreaded accepting that there is nothing beyond Baltimore and the town's neighboring trading partners, and that they're all alone in this absurd, cruel world. But then again, Quelq'un in many aspects is as far from a figure of hope gets, and probably only goes to show that beyond Baltimore there is a world far more complicated and horrific than anything the average human is capable of processing. His appearance is already peculiar enough but what has really led people to stay as far away from him so as to retain the little sanity and conviction they have left is his incomprehensible abilities, ones that simply do not abide by the laws of physics and nature. Any solace he once brought to people quickly morphed into deep repulsion and terror, especially at the thought of an entity like him not only existing on top of all the other paradoxes that threaten to warp their understandings of their metaphysical beings permanently, but also being able to just phase in and out of the world around them at will. Thinking about what Quelq'un's existence means for every actor who's ever wound up in Baltimore has made people go incoherently mad, to the point that not even Whitman wants anything to do with them and so they're 'dealt with'. However, as absolutely harrowing as that all is, Quelq'un is just a pretty chill and delightful guy--just don't try and pry into mysteries you're not ready for.. Class (at the beginning...): none; does not apply Things he always carries on his person: a seemingly infinite amount of instructional books he personally created to help Actors understand how things work in Baltimore and a very odd silicon staff that seems to be the source of his abilities

Deadpan -

Deadpan is a very straight-faced and stern individual who would describe herself as having no purpose without her knowledge. Not only is she in charge of a very respected ring of scientists who share very noble goals and frequently confer with other actors to discuss their findings, but she herself is just a tremendously respected woman primarily because of how openly and flagrantly she retaliates against Whitman and his perverse burlesque of human society. How does she get away with this? Well, it's simple--she isn't exactly in the same boat as the other actors. What I refrained from mentioning before in my other post is that there is another tier to the actor hierarchy, and that is the 'foreign residents' tier. They make up a measly 15% of the actor population which is actually about 150 individuals altogether (of course that number is occasionally fluctuating due to new additions, people dying, or just straight up disappearing but generally this is the statistic), so of those 150 are a total of about 23 persons who not only don't have to partake in abhorrent acts of violence in order to survive, but who can also preach whatever agenda they wish to without having to hold their tongue in public. Foreign residents are noted to be knowledgeable in fields that would conventionally be considered respectable, like science, medicine, politics, etc., and despite still missing very key fragments of their past, they harbor a deeper understanding of moral and ethics than other actors and can deduce for themselves why the world around them is absolutely, irrefutably absurd, wrong, and savage. Every single day, from when the sun rises and falls, she's cooped up in her makeshift lab jotting down entries of her discoveries and theories in various pamphlets that are distributed among actors who find her testimonies most reliable. When others remember so little of their past and what true civilness looks like that they're forced to accept this world as this new norm, Deadpan rebukes such thinking and dedicates her entire being to gathering evidence that can prove her all famous theory that Baltimore is without a doubt merely the shadow of a real civilization, where every law is reversed and deformed beyond recognition to fit unsavory ideals. How is this possible? How does that influence who ends uphere and who doesn't? If this really is their new reality, wouldn't that mean that her efforts are all in vain? Deadpan is adamant to not rest until she finds the answers to those questions. Class (all throughout the story): foreign resident Things she always carries on her person: a small glass jar of an absolutely atrocious smelling and volatile bright yellow substance with the consistency of mucus that is labaled as "yellow saliva" and no one knows why she keeps it on her person or where she even got it from

Chauncey --

Make no mistake, in spite of his appearance and ethereal aura, Chauncey is about as sweet and pleasant as a rose bush, a beautiful sight to marvel at from afar but upon closer inspection there seems to be a million things it can and will prick at you with. Beyond that smokescreen of a delicate and dashing man who's revered as a idol among Baltimore Citizens for his striking charm and pledged allegiance to the Baltimore way of life, is a powerful being, once filled with integrity and driven by selfless benevolence and wonder now rendered into a frantic and messy Don Quixote who's lost grip on the righteous principles that once defined him. He's a bit in denial about that though and will promptly correct and shutdown anyone who thinks his methods of 'restoring heavenly prosperity' are questionable. And indeed that is correct--Chauncey, even though he's been thrusted into the same predicament as everybody else around him under very weird circumstances, is not of the same world as the other actors. He's of one far more blissful and serene, one that revolved around the kind of order and goodness humans can only dream of emulating. Heaven. How in God's good name did he end up here? Why? Does he know anything that can possibly answer the many, many questions that has been haunting the mind's of every actor who still has hope for freedom from this dystopian hell? Those questions of course can easily be applied to almost any other actor, but obviously the situation is a little more urgent and horrifying when you realize that an angel too has been robbed of their memories and rendered no more powerful than the average human under Whitman's hegemony. All he claims to remember is being a humble and hard working guardian angel who was training to join the Empyrean army, and at some point his memories just sludge into an indecipherable blur. Some actors straight up just don't believe him and think his words are simply the final hurrahs of another sad soul who is teetering on the brink of insanity. It's a truly bizarre and cruel situation all around that has clearly taken its toll on Chauncey who is seemingly a complete Jekyll and Hyde now, Baltimore's most beloved laughingstock on stage and an idealistic agitator behind closed curtains. It's probably worth mentioning that despite all the charm and flamboyant flare he uses to get on the Whitizens' good side, he's still a Dog and has been for his last five years in Baltimore--a Dog who's in fact more famous for his antics of rebellion and revolution than how good he is at dancing, singing, and putting a show for the public's entertaining. The sad reality is, he's really only kept around because the Whitizens quite enjoy watching him humiliate himself in order to maintain some semblance of a good reputation, so much so they're willing to pay to see him humiliate himself or much worse cases, humiliate him themselves. No one really knows exactly what the latter suggests, but surely it's not anything too bad since Chauncey always seems to walk out the same impudent stardreamer everyone knows him as, with a couple extra Craz (Baltimore money) in his pockets to boot. People often assume he just holds onto his hard-earned money considering that, well, he doesn't need to eat, drink, or sleep, but that's not exactly the case; deep in the forests of Baltimore resides a very humble community of Dogs who despise Whitman through and through and as a result have been wounded, shunned, and discarded by society and left to rot in the outskirts. Chauncey, however, swept into their lives and took it upon himself to be their new leader--solemnly swearing to protect them and care for them, no matter what. And in return, all he asks, is that they follow instruction and allow him to shape them into the best versions of themselves... Class (in the beginning): Dog Things he carries on his person: A nail fail and a very peculiar crystal shaped totem he's often seen talking directly into as if something resides in there

Dixie Wixted--

With such striking beauty and a soft buttery country accent that has successfully lured many love-struck bachelors to her doorstep, Dixie Wixted for sure is one of the most familiar faces in Baltimore, especially in the illegal underbelly, and surprisingly for all the right reasons. She has a such an enticing wit and unique intelligence about her that serves to reassure that she's just the kind of knowledgeable and smart gal you want as a friend. Where most people panic and get flustered, Dixie sits back, indulges on a bottle of wine, and lights a cigarette to not letting this world see her crumble. It's such an admirable outlook many have adopted as inspiration to keep pushing onward, no matter how much the odds may seemed stacked against them--advice from her seems to resonate a lot better than from Deadpan who even doesn't have to endure what they do on a daily basis or Quelq'un who, although he means well, is an unsettling sight to behold and also doesn't have to regularly perform acts of violence just to afford a single meal. In such a way that could almost make Chauncey envious, Dixie has become a bit of an icon and in the same way Quelq'un wishes he could, she's helped people ease into this new reality of theirs. In all the absurdity and suffering that surrounds them, Dixie is about as close to normal and relatable as it gets--wanting to survive because that's all she can do. But that just begs the question, where does Dixie's laidback demeanor come from? Its very impressive, yes, but to a certain degree. There's a eventually point where admiration dissolves into confusion at how lethargic and overly blase she can get at times, even in more urgent matters that should alarm her. But it seems that she just cannot be bothered to exert herself anymore than she already does, even in the face of danger, in which case she'll just smooth-talk and slyly slip her way out of any messy confrontations. It's baffling just how jaw-droppingly lucky she must be to be able to successfully elude Baltimore policemen and even get some of the more dangerous actors to let her go scotch free whenever she flunks out on an arrangement, and this has happened countless times, without fail, all throughout her ten years of being an actor. Some people have assumed its just her sheer willpower and quick thinking that has gotten her through the toughest of situations any actor can be faced with, but others aren't so convinced. Surely if she was that concerned with her survival, she would make the effort to try and progress through the hierarchy rather than staying stagnant and only doing what's really just the bare minimum to scrape by. Its that realization that often triggers many of her admirers to spiral down a rabbithole of all the inconsistencies that exist in her persona, ending with the single question of--why are we looking up to this woman again? With how little Dixie speaks of her past (or whatever she can recall from it at least), her exact ambitions, or personal perspective on the anarchy that surrounds them, this question is likely to be left unanswered. That is, for people who yet to catch onto the fact that in Dixie's eyes survival is not excelling to the top and becoming another heartless zombie, survival is doing what she must, what is merely required of her, to live long enough to see a fulfilling end. And a fulfilling end, in her eyes, is not becoming another statistic in some madman's sick game--it's slipping away into an unremarkable, forgettable death. Maybe some time ago, her will to live was actually there and therefore people can understand why she's celebrated for her perseverance, but nowadays a peaceful death is all she craves. Her light at the end of the tunnel lies only in a silent demise, and so she unwinds and does nothing as she allows herself to fall back down to the bottom of the hierarchy and, eventually, hopefully, disappear.. Class (at the beginning of the story): Panjandrum Things she always carries on her person: at least three packs of cigarrettes, a switchblade, and a pocket mirror

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