#it took me too much time to write this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shady-tavern · 5 months

Text

Missing Piece

@piperjistic had asked for a forest spirit and while this isn't fully in line with your request, I still hope you'll like it!

Minor warnings ahead for non-graphic violence and a wee bit of body-horror towards the end, though it doesn't happen to the main character. Please be sure to take care of yourself!

*.*.*

For as long as the little girl could remember, it felt like something was missing within her. She could never put a finger on it, but it made her a restless child, picking up and discarding games, struggling with consistently staying interested and some days she just felt very strange.

Like that one stained glass window she had seen when her parents had taken her to a nearby city. All disjointed fragments that still managed to be a picture, but it would never be one entire piece.

The stained glass window at least had been pretty compared to the ugly feeling within her.

"Have you ever felt like something is missing inside you?" she asked her grandma, who came to pick her up many a day while her parents worked.

Things were strange between Gran and her parents, she never talked to them and they never talked to her and she never set foot onto their garden, preferring to wait for the little girl at the gate by the little dirt road.

Gran stilled and when the little girl glanced up at her, her face had gone dark and grim and for the first time in the girl's life, her beloved grandma, a joyful soul who loved her with all her heart, looked just a little bit frightening.

But her hand around the girl's remained gentle and the older woman kept walking at a sedate pace so her short little legs didn't struggle with keeping up.

Everyone always said to the girl that she would grow to be bigger and she couldn't wait for that day to arrive. Gran was silent for so long that the girl thought she was never going to answer.

"You best ask your parents about that," Gran said at last, voice quiet and heavy with something unspoken. Strangely, her voice reminded the girl of a draft horse she had seen, who had been forced to pull a too heavy burden, body straining as it slowly and laboriously set one hoof in front of the other.

"Alright," the girl answered and grinned up at her grandmother, hoping to break up the awful mood her innocent little question had created. "Can we make blueberry cake today?"

Gran smiled and it was like the sun returning after a dark, scary storm, her face brightening and looking as kind and loving as ever. "Of course, little chestnut." She leaned in, voice dipping into a conspiratorial stage whisper, "My wife picked an entire basket just this morning."

The little girl giggled and soon the two of them reached the end of the village, all talk about missing pieces and resulting, scary expressions forgotten. The blueberry cake was delicious and maybe a bit messy since the girl had tried to help a bit too enthusiastically and the cute little apron Gran had made for her was stained with purple-blue juice on one corner.

Gran's wife, Tanya, arrived just as they had taken the first bite of a still warm slice of cake.

"You baked without me?" she gasped in a mock scandalized voice. "Oh, the betrayal, how it stings!" She dramatically fell onto the kitchen table and the little girl laughed when the two older women broke out into a full blown performance just to ensure she kept laughing.

Gran brought her back home just as the sun set and a strong, steady wind blew in from the forest, bringing with it the smell of spring moss and damp, cool earth.

"If you ever meet any magical beings, be wary," Gran said as she stopped in front of the gate that creaked noisily as soon as it was two thirds of the way open.

She looked down at the girl, her face serious. "One day you might and if you do, they will offer you deals and nothing good ever comes from accepting their offers. They will only bring ruin in exchange for empty promises."

As solemnly as the little girl could, she offered her little pinky. "I promise to be careful," she said and a shadow of a smile crossed Gran's face as they hooked their pinkies around each other gently.

Gran leaned down to kiss the top of her head before she left with a glance towards the house and the girl briefly glanced towards the forest. It was an old forest, not quite as ancient as in other places, but surrounded by plenty of stories and mysteries.

The girl had heard rumors about creatures living in the woods, of magic being alive in ways the mages in the big cities could never hope to replicate. She decided to be very careful whenever she went into the woods to pick berries and mushrooms. She had promised, after all.

She entered her parents' house, neatly putting her boots beside her mother's and when she looked up at her parents, the question tumbled forth without much thought, "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?"

Her mother, who was currently carving leather, stilled so thoroughly she might as well have turned to stone. Her father, in the process of cooking, seemed to freeze in place, the stirring of his ladle abruptly falling silent.

"You're still growing," her mother answered at last, voice quiet and her gaze on her work. "It will pass in given time."

The little girl stared at her, startled silent and with increasing heartbreak as the seconds passed, for she had just learned what her mother sounded like when she lied.

*.*.*

The conversation with her parents stayed with the girl as the months and years passed and she never asked again. Gran said nothing either, but every time she picked the girl up, she now glared at the house.

Gran knew, the girl realized, but either couldn't say why she felt wrong or she didn't want to tell her.

Though, knowing her Gran, she probably couldn't for some reason. Gran had been born a rebel and she said she would die one, encouraging all of the little girl's bad habits, as her parents called them, with no remorse.

"This world will chew you up and spit you out, if you let it," Gran told her when she picked her up from school, her hand warm and gentle. "So don't be afraid to bare your teeth, little chestnut. Stand up for what you believe is right, that is the only way to slowly but surely kill off all things vile and dark."

The girl wasn't sure she entirely understood, but she nodded seriously anyway. Gran always told her everything no one else wanted to, blunt and direct without scaring her or hurting her feelings.

Gran felt strong, like a rushing river that wore down even the largest, toughest of boulders. The girl hoped she could be like her one day.

It was her Gran's teachings that got her in and out of trouble over the years and her words guided the girl into understanding when something was wrong. And how important it was to do something when she discovered evil.

As the village turned into a cute little town and more and more people moved in, drawing towards a hopeful future by their fertile lands and abundant forest, the girl had grown into a headstrong young woman.

Not once, in all that time, had she shaken off the feeling like she was lacking something. Like something was missing that should be there.

Her parents could no longer deny that something was wrong and their increasingly guilty and troubled looks said it all. It showed in the woman's life, that something within her was gone. As soon as someone looked into the little house she had moved into, they saw that no project was ever finished, every hobby dropped just after she had gained a modicum of skill in it.

She bounced from job to job, working for whoever hired her, before losing that job again, sometimes by leaving, sometimes by more talented, more passionate people coming along.

It was that restlessness that caused her to drift far enough from the town, the feeling of wrongness seemingly guiding her step, to cross paths with what she first thought was a traveling kind of circus.

There was a man leading the entire caravan of wagons, pale and primly dressed, clearly a mage considering his robes and pompous behavior as he hailed her down.

"We are no circus, young lady," he said when she asked about his business, but his eyes were cold and his smile about as pleasant as holding a palm full of slugs. "I am Master Egam and this is my curious collection. I intend to thoroughly impress the local lords."

He made a sweeping gesture at the wagons and she peered past him, at covered cages and grim looking soldiers.

Her gaze almost immediately fell back to the mage, however, and something ugly writhed within her chest. She couldn't put a finger on what it was, but it felt like sharp, uneven edges pressed against her ribs from within, accentuating the feeling of wrongness.

"Now, which way to the nearest town? It's growing rather late," Master Egam said, his smile wide and winning and yet it caused something cold to drip down her spine. There was a sudden taste of wet iron and rotting earth on her tongue.

It took her a moment to realize why, for she had never experienced anything like it. He had put magic into his words and it filled her mouth with a nasty taste. "This way, about a mile or so."

"Why don't you guide us?" he asked, patting the coach beside him. When she hesitated and saw a flash of curious danger in his eyes, she offered a bland smile.

"Thank you," she said, climbing up to join him, careful to keep some distance between them.

He stared at her for a moment and she resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. "You seem strangely...familiar," he mused after a moment. "Have I met you before? Or family of yours?" When she looked genuinely surprised, he shook his head. "Right, that is very unlikely. Then again, you country bumpkins all look the same to me."

She was desperate to distract him from her, which was thankfully easy enough to accomplish. All it took was a question about his exploits and soon he regaled her with all the horrifying details. Of the creatures he captured, the magic he had soaked up from them, the power he carried at his fingertips.

He was bragging, yes, but she could tell that every word was the truth. That he had chained a vampire into enduring sunlight at his leisure, that he had plucked all the feathers of a harpy to parade her around naked and that he had a griffin eating out of his hand for his amusement.

That he had caught one the most dangerous beings of all, a forest spirit.

She was deeply relieved when her hometown came into view and then she got to see the effects of his magic first hand. His voice seemed to be made of gold, for all he had to do was speak and people immediately rushed to obey, star-struck expressions and delighted, downright smitten smiles appearing on their faces.

She inched away from Master Egam and ended up by one of the wagons instead. Unable to resist, she tugged a corner of the covering up and peered inside.

Green eyes that shimmered like all the shades of plant life in the forest met hers and broken antlers rose from red and gold hair that tumbled down in long, thick waves. The forest spirit, she realized as she stared at him, wide eyed, his face sun-kissed and freckled and even chained down as he was she could see his innate power and grace.

The broken antlers disappeared, swiftly replaced by wolf ears as he now bared vicious fangs at her, wicked claws scraping over the iron lining the bottom of his cage as he growled.

"Careful with that one," Master Egam's voice made her jump and drop the tarp. "He's the most dangerous one I ever caught. A nasty piece of work."

"Why do you catch them?" she found herself asking and as she looked up at him, she already knew the answer before he opened his mouth.

"Because I can," he said, his smile as empty as his eyes were cruel. "Because the wild powers in this world need to know that they can and will be tamed. Now run along and don't tell anyone about this."

His magic was iron-rot on her tongue as she nodded, hastily pasting a smile on her face. It felt like fleeing as she turned and hurried away, her heart racing in her chest and the ugly, vile feeling that had scraped around her ribcage finally lessened.

The wrongness within her was as present as ever, a constant companion of subtle misery that dodged her steps, silent only whenever she found joy in things. Joy that was taken from her by its steady, suffocating grip sooner or later.

As soon as she was home, she began to pace, her mind whirring. She had to do something and whatever magic Master Egam possessed, she was somehow immune against it. She might be the only one who could think clearly around him.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm. Master Egam was dangerous and she was just a magic-less young woman who was all wrong inside. If she wasn't careful, she wouldn't have to worry about what was missing for much longer.

It wasn't hard, in the end, to find out that Master Egam was staying in the mayor's house, that he had tossed him and his family out and now treated the most lavish place as his. The mayor and his wife and two children seemed dazed but they didn't question what was being done to them, they just went to stay with their extended family.

The wagons were kept by the mayor's house, blocking most of the street and guarded by the soldiers, which were armed and armored.

She watched them as the last sunlight faded, thinking. Beyond the window she could see the mage and people came to his home, bringing downright decadent food with loving smiles and hazy eyes, leaving again empty handed.

An idea began to take form. A foolish one, most certainly, but it was likely her best chance. While Master Egam was busy feasting and ordering people around, most likely fancying himself a king among peasants, he would be distracted.

On second thought, he was most likely not traveling to impress lords, but to work his way up to becoming the actual king of these lands. Maybe even an emperor, holding court among captured creatures and his magic charming everyone into blind obedience.

So she joined a group of townsfolk who came with carefully made little cakes and desserts and they barely acknowledged her. The soldiers didn't even looked at them, most likely long used to this song and dance.

It was less easy to go unnoticed by Master Egam, but the man was easily distracted by the new offerings, already a good way through half the food he had been given.

No human should have been able to consume so much without bursting, she thought and she wondered if this was the price of his magic. That he not only could eat far too much, but had to.

"Bring this to the beasties," he said, gesturing at a little bucket of bones and food scraps and the young woman took a decisive step towards it, keeping her head down as she grabbed the bucket, stepping outside without being stopped. Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot.

The soldiers didn't pay her any heed now either. They looked bored and hungry as they watched another plate of food being brought in, but they said nothing. She wondered if they could even if they wanted to. If they were similarly charmed as anyone else.

"I need to feed them," she said politely to the nearest soldier, who moved woodenly to stare at her with a slightly hazy gaze. Ah, that answered her question. "I need the key, please. Master Egam's orders."

He handed the key over, because why wouldn't he? When everyone was always so fully under the mage's control, there was no reason to doubt. She went to the forest spirit's cage first, ignoring his low growl as she pushed the tarp up and began to look for the lock.

He fell silent as soon as she slipped the key into it and opened the door.

"I'll get you out," she whispered and his head tipped to the side, his wolf ears flicking as he considered her. And then, ever so slowly without removing those intense eyes from her, he tipped his head back, baring his collared throat.

She crawled into the cage, making sure to pull the door almost-closed behind her, the tarp falling down and leaving her in murky darkness with only her slightly fast breathing and pounding heart. She slowly inched forward, patting the ground, until clawed fingers carefully closed around her hand, guiding it up.

The collar had no lock and she stilled, her heart leaping in her chest. What was she supposed to do now?

"Bleed," the forest spirit said, voice such a horrible rasp that she was half convinced his throat was full of glass shards. "Willing offer."

She wasn't even thinking when she reached out with her free hand, gripping his fingers and pressing her palm against his claws. She felt him jerk in surprise, but the pain was already blooming, blood running down her hand in a hot line. She reached out to press her hand to his collar, smearing as much of her blood on it as possible and the next second the collar clicked open, crashing to the floor with a rattle of chains.

The forest spirit inhaled sharply and then she felt his hands touch her shoulder, careful and helping her shuffle a bit to the side. Freeing the path to the cage door, she realized

"Free the others, please," he whispered, his voice no longer sounding like he was gargling gravel, but instead charming and lovely-sweet. Her mouth was filled with the faint taste of meadow-flowers and cool spring water.

Then he was out of the cage and she scrambled to follow him, catching the door before it could slam shut.

The guards were lying on the ground and she saw the forest spirit springing past the last one he had taking down, vaulting over a confused man with a tart and heading straight into the house, face snarling in rage.

The next cage held the plucked harpy, who hissed a high-pitched shriek at her, but fell similarly silent when the door to the cage was unlocked.

Her collar too opened with blood and then the harpy was out, her feathers re-growing with a burst of magic that was almost painful with its relief. She took flight immediately, though she clearly struggled as she escaped, as did the griffin the young woman freed.

The vampire slunk out of his cage with a look of wild hunger and gratitude before he was gone between one moment and the next. Just in time for all the windows in the house to shatter outward in a massive wave of pressure, the forest spirit crashing to the ground, wheezing and covered in blood.

The young woman was at his side in no time and as she gripped him and saw him in the light of the street lanterns without the distractions of his eyes, she realized just how thin he was. How his limbs shook as he struggled to his feet.

He stumbled, eyes going wide when she dragged him with her, just in time to round the corner before Master Egam came out of the house with magic whipping around him, a howl of rage filling the night as he found all his cages empty, his guards unconscious – or perhaps dead – on the ground.

"What are you doing," the forest spirit hissed, but he seemed unable to free himself from her grip, which told her everything she needed to know. She wasn't weak by any means, but she got the impression that he should be far stronger than she.

"Saving you," she hissed back. "You're in no condition to fight!"

"Return them to me!" she heard Master Egam's voice boom behind her, so loud and rattling it filled the entire town, making people cower and stumble, their gazes going hazy. "And find me the one who did this!"

Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot to the point where she had to gag, but she managed to push on, reaching the little house she had moved into after she could no longer stand the guilty silence of her parents. The moment they were through the door, the forest spirit collapsed to the floor, breathing hard, sweating and bleeding.

"His magic," he said as he stared up at her with wide, bright green eyes that she knew she could get lost in if she allowed it. "It doesn't work on you. Why?"

"No idea," she murmured back. "Come, we have to hide you."

She had managed to empty out a large storage chest and squeezed him inside despite his protest just in time for her neighbors to come knocking.

"No one is here, I came looking," she said, heart pounding and blood still dripping from her hand as she gestured at the hastily strewn about contents of her chest. "I made sure they weren't hiding."

"Come help search," her neighbors murmured, gazes hazy and she followed them outside, hoping that the spirit stayed where he was, that he wouldn't be found.

She searched with the others until they were all ready to collapse and only then did Master Egam order them to rest with such fury that the cobblestone cracked around him. He had long since roused his guards – most of which were still alive – and had sent them out to the forest to capture those that had run for the woods.

"They can't go far," she heard him mutter to himself as he turned around to head back into the house. "Not with the state I left them all in."

He wasn't wrong.

When the young woman returned home, she found the forest spirit still in the storage chest, asleep and looking utterly exhausted. She dropped into her bed and slept until hunger forced her awake.

The smell of cooking food woke the spirit as well and she stared in astonished surprise as he ate at an alarmingly fast rate. Half her pantry was gone by the time he curled up in front of the hearth and went straight back to sleep. She dropped a thick blanket on him and arranged pillows to hide him from the outside and sat down, thinking.

Master Egam was powerful and she had no idea if she could hide the spirit until he regained his strength, especially if he needed that much food every day. And even then there was no guarantee that he'd be powerful enough to defeat the mage. But, she reasoned, he might be able to escape, which was just as good in her opinion.

She dozed off and woke feeling warm, blinking blearily to realize the blanket was now draped over her, the pillows carefully arranged to leave her in a little nest. Only the floor beneath her was a little hard. Peering around, alarm searing through her, worrying that something had happened, she relaxed as soon as she saw the spirit.

He stood with his back to her, looking at all the half finished projects she had lying around, not having the heart to put them away, even though she already knew she'd never finish them. That this was it and her love for a new hobby she had found was instead curdling into quiet, miserable grief.

"Thank you," he said before turning towards her. He already looked far better than yesterday, less gaunt and shaky on his feet. His injuries were gone as well, leaving only a somewhat tattered, stained shirt and worn, knee-length pants over hale and whole skin behind.

He tipped his head and the way the light of a lit candle reflected in his eyes reminded her of the way animal eyes would look when a lantern swept past them in the dark. "What do you want in return for your help?"

She paused after sitting up, then shrugged. "I don't want anything." Gran had been very firm about deals with magic creatures, that they brought ruin more often than not, her voice harsh and bitter as she had said it. As if there was more to her words than mere warnings.

Besides, the young woman had grown up on stories about daring knights, wise mages and courageous princesses and princes. She had always wanted to be like them, to do good with her own two hands whenever possible. Had secretly dreamed about one day saving someone as she had grown up.

It had been far more scary and harrowing than in her imagination, but she'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

"You want nothing," the spirit repeated, sounding like he didn't believe her. "Everyone wants something, help is never freely given. Especially not from my kind and especially not when you saved my life. Do not take that kind of thing lightly."

"All I want is for you to be safe," she said. "Don't get hurt again, promise me that."

The forest spirit inhaled sharply, pupils blowing wide until only a small ring of green remained and she felt a warm shiver go through the air. Like something powerful had just exhaled a blessing.

He said nothing for a long moment, before he dipped his head, suddenly looking regal as the wolf ears melted away and antlers appeared that looked far more intact than last night. "Very well."

He joined her by the hearth, dropping down to one knee and offered his hand. "Let me see your wound."

She held out her hand and felt a tingle of magic, could taste soft, gentle meadow flowers and refreshing water as relief took away the lingering pain. Her palm was unmarred, not even a scar remaining.

"You have no idea what you just gave me, do you?" he asked quietly when she looked at him, his gaze so very captivating it looked like the entirety of the forest had gathered in his eyes.

She offered a small, crooked smile. "I've never been around magic," she said, all too aware that he was still holding her hand, skin warm like sunshine. "You can hide here until you've recovered."

He tipped his head to the side. "You would welcome me even now, knowing who is looking for me?"

"You're safe here," she answered. "He can't charm me and you need time to recover. Just make sure no one sees you."

"What do you desire for your help in return?" he asked. "And don't say nothing again."

She thought of the wrongness within her and wondered if magic could fix it. Then she remembered Gran's warnings about deals and ruin and bit back a sigh.

"I'll think about something," she said, though she didn't intend to. Once the spirit was strong enough, he would either fight or leave, but either way she doubted she would ever see him again.

He didn't look happy about that, but accepted her answer graciously enough. Getting to her feet, the young woman waved him with her to the kitchen corner. If he was eating her out of house and home he could help her cook.

When it became clear he was actually the better cook, since she hadn't been able to learn too much before her wrongness had kicked in, she happily left him to it and grabbed her money, sneaking out.

The entire town was walking around in a strange sort of haze, half of them still searching and the other half catering to the mage.

She saw people bring more food to the mayor's house, along with other things. Jewels and prized possessions, feathers the harpy had and griffin had lost and one or two held squeaking bats in their gloved hands, as though hoping they might be the escaped vampire.

No one looked twice at her when she bought as much food as she could at the market and she bit back bitter worry when she saw Gran and Granny Tanya bring blueberry cake to the mage with happy smiles.

Only her parents didn't seem to be out and about. Strange.

She brought the food back home and the forest spirit noticeably relaxed once she was back, thanking her quietly before falling quiet again. The young woman, however, could only stand the silence for so long before she began to ask questions.

Before long she knew that the forest spirit had gotten captured in his sleep, that his home was to the north and that he could sense the power of the nearby forest.

They both fell asleep in front of the hearth and by the second day, the young woman dragged her bedding out into the living room and made a proper place to rest for the two of them.

The forest spirit was in a better mood today and she realized that under all the tense grimness he was rather playful and enjoyed teasing and, most of all, making her laugh. She noticed as the days passed how he regained his strength, the gauntness disappearing faster than it would have for a regular person.

They kept busy in the small house in different ways. She watched him finish some of her craft projects and taught him to dance, he conjured sprigs of flowers for them to 'pretty up the place with' as he said and he let her brush out and braid his hair after long baths, the bath water never cooling until they were well and truly done.

Every night they curled up on the hearth together and it was then, as he looked at her, hair a healthy, shining red and gold and fox ears perked to listen better, that the truth spilled out.

How wrong inside she felt and he frowned at her in what she recognized as worry.

"May I?" he asked, holding out his hand and she put hers into his without a moment's hesitation. His face went soft and gentle in a way that ached somewhere around her tender heart as he held her hand with care.

Then he closed her eyes and she could taste meadow flowers and cold water and his frown deepened.

"I - you must talk to your parents," he said and as soon as the words were out, his head reared back a bit, ears pinning flat to his head as he blinked, looking startled and irritated. "Oh, how nasty."

She stared at him, wide-eyed and for the first time got the feeling that something was very, very wrong in a different way than she had thought.

"I'll go now," she whispered and he nodded, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze before she got to her feet.

Her parents looked worried and tense when they opened the door, relaxing a bit when they saw it was her, only for the tension to snap back into their frames. She realized immediately that they knew why she was here.

That there was a reason why she and they alone weren't slaves to the magic-charm of a mad mage. That they did know why she felt like a piece was missing.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked, sharp and hard in a way she had never spoken with them and they stepped aside to let her in.

They stood around the living room awkwardly until her father broke first, guilty and defensive and shoulders hunched, the silence around them heavy and thick and oppressive like summer heat without a cooling breeze.

"We didn't know," he said, almost pleading as he looked at his daughter. "When we met that...that man on our travels. We didn't know."

Something hot was wrapping around her heart and throat and a bad feeling unfolded in her gut, wriggling to get comfortable like a cat in a beam of sunlight. "Tell me the truth. Now. You owe me that much at least."

"We asked for a good life," her mother whispered, staring down at the ground, arms wrapped around herself and her head bent, shoulders tense. "We asked for nothing unreasonable, because being greedy only curses you. We asked for a good, warm, house, for enough money to buy what we desired until our deaths and to lead healthy, long and safe lives. We wanted the sort of fortune that would ensure we would have everything we desired until the day we died."

The heaviness in the air seemed to press down harder, like a thick blanket over sticky, sweaty skin, trapping heat and impossible to shake, no matter how desperately she wanted to get rid of it.

"What was the price?" the young woman asked, her tongue almost numb in her mouth. Though, she already knew. Could feel it in the marrow of her bones, could feel it in the stained glass shape of her soul, all disjointed and wrong and missing missing missing. Always missing something.

"You were but a babe," her father answered before she could ask again. "We didn't think...when he asked for a piece of you, something that wouldn't hurt you if he took it, we thought, well, if you grew up without it...you wouldn't know what you were missing."

Her heart shouldn't break, she thought, as pain and anger and grief greedily dug into her chest and belly. It shouldn't break when she didn't even feel all that surprised to hear what they were saying.

She thought of her life filled with things she couldn't finish, couldn't dedicate herself to no matter how deeply she loved, like her hands were too restless, desperately trying to find something to fill the void within her. All the friendships she had lost over the years, the disappointed people she had worked with and most of all, how miserable she had been.

She thought about feeling wrong and disjointed and like a stained glass window made by a clumsy apprentice and with the intent to make other people whisper and point and laugh instead of impressing them.

Weird, strange, not-fitting-in. Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, had sung through her veins for as long as she could remember and she had walked through life feeling like a part of her was gone, but unable to voice it. Unable to even name what was missing.

Thinking that, maybe, this was just her lot in life. That nothing could be done about it and she had tried to do her best with the hand she had been dealt by fate.

And all this time, her parents had just...traded that part of her away. For small comforts. For a future they could have made themselves with their own hands had they cared to try. For a life bartered and paid for by someone else, so they wouldn't have to shoulder the burden.

And then they had lied to her about it, had left her thinking that nothing could be done to make her feel better. That this was normal.

"Who?" she asked numbly and she blinked, realizing she was halfway to the door. When she looked at her parents, hot, angry hatred crawled up her throat like a wave of lava at seeing their wounded, self-pitying faces. "Who did you allow to hurt me?"

"Master Egam," her father whispered, his voice barely audible in the heavy, suffocating silence. "We can't let him see us or he might remember."

She was out the door before he could finish speaking, heart breaking and racing and she wasn't surprised at all, even though she thought she should be. So that was why his magic wasn't working on her – and her parents, if part of their deal was to remain healthy and unharmed at all times. Just what had Egam taken from her to make a deal that protected them no matter what?

She didn't remember the path home, but the moment the door fell closed behind her, she looked at the forest spirit and all the breath rushed back into her lungs. He was waiting with a plate of cookies he had baked that afternoon and his gaze was so gentle and understanding it made the wounded part of her tremble.

He opened his arms, a silent invitation and for a moment there was so much awful anguish in her, she didn't know what to do. Had no idea how to react if someone touched her, if it would drain the pain and anger or make it spill over, ugly and messy and raw. Like a wound that had had years and years and years to grow until it had spread and festered.

Then she moved and let him catch her and cradle her close as she broke down, crying as bitterly and hard as she had never cried before. He held her tightly as she shook apart, her head tucked under his chin and she cried and cried until she felt empty inside. Empty and wrong.

"They gave a piece of me to Egam," she whispered, voice thick and scratchy and he stilled. She tightened her grip on the shirt she had gotten him during one of her trips to the market, where food had started to grow scarce. "In exchange for a good, comfortable life."

He cupped the back of her head and kept holding her, offering no empty platitudes and no 'I'm sorry's, for which she was grateful. She didn't want sorrys. She was...she was too damn fucking furious for that, she realized, now that the pain had momentarily drained away.

"I want it back," she said, biting the words out like they were bones snapping between her teeth. "I want it back and I want this monster gone."

He hugged her tighter and she felt his smile press against her temple, sharp and dangerous and fanged and not the least bit afraid of her rage. Not the least bit judgmental the way others had reacted to her anger over the years.

"Let's shred him," he whispered against her hair, soft lips brushing forehead. "Let's get back what he stole from us."

*.*.*

It hadn't taken too long to prepare. The forest spirit had recovered fully and there wasn't anything in town that could help them against a mage, but in the end, they didn't need much anyway.

They didn't need fancy things or mage slayers. Not when the mage in question would give them the weapons they needed, born out of his own greed and hubris.

Born out of a deal he had made with her parents and Gran really was right, deals only ever brought ruin. Because she and the part Egam had taken from her were about to become his.

The forest spirit gave her hand a squeeze and they exchanged one more look as they got ready behind her house, his eyes fierce and so trusting it briefly stole her breath away.

"When this is over, travel with me," he said, out of nowhere. "I want to show you my home. The brooks and meadows and mountains and lake."

She smiled back, a warmth that had nothing to do with the burning rage spreading through her, smoothing down her edges and settling around her heart like a protective blanket.

"Gladly," she answered quietly, then her smile turned a bit crooked. "What, you aren't going to ask for anything in exchange, leaf boy?"

He laughed softly and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "You're too precious for deals," he said quietly and she could taste his magic, sweet and cool and it almost brought tears to her eyes, though she couldn't quite say why.

"Let's go," she said instead and he reached up to gather his hair, pulling it aside to allow her to put the pilfered chain from the wagon around his neck. They had scratched out all the symbols on the inside of the iron, destroying the enchantment that would block his magic.

With a bit of glue it would stay shut for now and he caught her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles until they stopped shaking. They both took a deep breath and stepped onto the street, a glamor settling over his skin, making him look gaunt and injured once more. He limped, casting her one last wink before people noticed them.

The townsfolk paid attention to her for the first time in nearly a month as she went to the mage's house. Word must have traveled ahead, for Master Egam was already awaiting them and the mayor's house was saturated with iron-rot. She could see a few hints here and there of the chaos that must've reigned before he had gotten things cleaned up to welcome them, sitting on a padded chair like it was a throne.

"Bring him to me, girl," he said, beckoning and his smile benevolent and his eyes glittering like cold glass shards. His hunger was deep enough to cut and she bit back a shiver at the disgust that crept beneath her skin the closer she came to him.

"My prized possession," Egam murmured, already ignoring her and his magic grew thicker in the air, almost making her gag. The forest spirit pretended to fight, snarling as he was dragged forward, looking like he was too weak to resist. "And you put him back in his proper attire too, good girl."

He absentmindedly patted her on the head and she made herself smile at him, empty and dazzled, like the other townsfolk, swallowing down bile. The spirit had told her that Egam had stolen a piece of his magic too, forcefully instead of willingly, but it was in his hands all the same.

It was time to get back what belonged to them.

She handed over the chain, his gaze on the forest spirit like he wanted to devour him whole. Like the monsters and villains in her stories growing up, greedy and cruel and insatiable.

Egam moved past her, already discarding her as unimportant. As under his control. As just another 'country bumpkin'. He was the powerful mage after all and, as he had said, he already had one of the most powerful beings under his control.

A powerless girl might as well be dirt under his boots.

That was the exact reason he didn't see her nick her hand on a small knife hidden in her pocket. Why he didn't see her smile at the forest spirit over his shoulder before reaching out.

He didn't look at her and therefore couldn't react in time when she stepped to his side and reached up, pressing her bloody hand over his heart at the same time that the forest spirit lunged forward.

The mage did react, aiming his magic at the bigger, perceived threat, like they had suspected. And just like they had hoped, his magic slid off of the forest spirit harmlessly, for when the young woman had saved his life and he had offered her compensation of the same magnitude, she had asked for him to be safe.

The forest spirit was unhindered, pressing bloody palms to the mage's chest, right over his heart, sharp, sharp teeth bared and he snarled, "I undo the deal."

"I undo the deal," she spoke simultaneously with him, the words the forest spirit had taught her, steady and patient as each one was nothing but pain in her throat. Because she wasn't supposed to say those words, but then again, parents weren't supposed to give away what didn't belong to them either, so she had a right to this.

A right to undo what had been done to her, as long as she could get through the pain that tried to keep her from speaking. Pain that was worse than any wrongness had ever been, any loneliness and pain and grief and self-loathing for not being like all the other people.

For never getting to keep doing the things she loved, forever searching for something she hadn't known she'd have to buy back with blood and pain.

It was the worst pain she had ever endured, but it wasn't stronger than the rage in her veins, the taste of iron-rot on her tongue and the sun-warm hand that took her free, unharmed one, grounding and strong. The look of startled anger on the mage's face swiftly morphing into fear was everything in this moment.

"I undo the deal made made without my voice, without my consent, without my agreement. I undo it as it was made, in pain and blood and betrayal," they spoke in perfect unison, their only chance to both get back what had been taken from them.

Their only chance to catch him so by surprise that he did feel betrayed, that he was as helpless as they had been, asleep and a babe respectively.

The moment the last word left her mouth, a sudden relief gripped her throat, releasing the burning agony that had torn through it and at the same time, she felt something warm and big spread through her chest.

The wrongness disappeared in an instant, the feeling of missing turning into wholeness so filling and great she almost stumbled back, her skin tingling and euphoria singing through her so brightly she had to sob. Because that wasn't just a missing piece, a sliver of soul that he had taken and that was now returned to her.

Magic, he had taken magic from her. It glittered like stars in the dark in her veins, spilled through her mind like bright sunlight on shimmering waves and wrapped around her with a desperation like it had longed to return to her as relentlessly as she had wanted it to return to her.

Egam was screaming as he stumbled back and they let him, watched him trip and spill to the ground as he writhed, clawing at his chest where blood smeared, hot and red and the forest spirit gripped her hand tighter.

His magic was heavy in the air, making her taste rivers and entire fields full of flowers and even from the corner of her eye she could see how much more vibrant he was now, the glamor dropped. Captivating and downright otherworldly, beautiful and mesmerizing.

"What have you done!" Egam shrieked but his words no longer tasted of iron-rot in the air and she blinked, realizing the power of his voice had been stolen from someone else. As she watched him seemingly shrink down, magic leaving him, her breath caught.

Oh. Her magic had been the first he had stolen. Her magic was what had bolstered all of his and now that it was gone, everything he was unraveled until it left behind a pitiful little man, with eyes so mean and cruel he should belong in a story, not in real life.

"I promised you I would be your end," the forest spirit said and his voice was filled with magic. The sort of magic that had previously been used by Egam to charm everyone. "I think your hunger and greed are better suited in a different shape and form. In something that grows, don't you?"

And Egam tried to scramble to his feet and run, but the magic of the forest spirit was so thick in the air it her own magic sing in return, bright and sparking and the fury was still a living, roiling wave of heat within her. She reached out without much thought, letting her magic wrap around the forest spirit's, who threw his head back and laughed.

He laughed as Egam screamed in a pitch no human throat should be capable of. He laughed as the screams cut off and branches broke out of his back, his skin turning to bark and the mage grew and grew and stretched and the young woman found herself pulled out the house as floorboards and walls, doors and furniture and remains of windows were devoured.

She watched as a tree grew and grew and grew until the trunk was as wide as the house had been and it reached high into the sky, the canopy so thick and wide it sheltered the entire town under its boughs.

And her magic was singing and singing and singing and she felt so hale and whole she felt like she was floating. The forest spirit turned towards her, grinning and took her injured hand, pressing a kiss to the cut, smearing blood over his lips as he healed it.

"We're free now," he whispered, eyes so very green and then she was laughing and crying and pulling him forward and he followed her, pressing kisses that tasted like fading copper and brightly like flowers and cold water to her lips.

They were free. Free and whole at last and she felt like she was truly breathing for the first time since she could remember. Deep breaths that seemed to fill her entire body, her magic twining with his as it surrounded them, forest and sky and her tears were wiped away with gentle, gentle hands.

"We are," she whispered, sinking her hands into his hair until she had threaded starlight through it. "Let me introduce you to Gran and Granny Tanya and then I want to see your home."

He laughed and picked her up and twirled her in a circle and she found herself laughing as well, flowers blooming to form a crown on her head.

Where previously a quiet sort of misery had loomed in her future, saturating all coming days, she now couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life looked like.

Bright, she thought as she held his face in her hands, their foreheads gently pressing together. Her future was bight and free and full of love and she was still laughing and crying, happy beyond words. And her magic, finally, finally returned to her, sang and shone and at long last, she felt nothing but right inside.

*.*.*

You want to support my stuff? Want more of my nonsense? Want to lord this over your mortal enemies as you laugh down at them from the top of your castle? Please consider heading to my patreon! A new short story gets posted every month =)

157 notes · View notes

cerise-on-top · 26 days

Note

Can I request the fluff alphabet for Nikolai or Soap? So happy to hear you’re doing well, always look forward to your writing!

Hey there! Of course you can! And thank you! Glad to hear you enjoy my writing!

Fluff Alphabet for Soap

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Soap definitely loves being out and about, so he’d love nothing more than to go outside with you and just do things there. It doesn’t even need to be anything terrific like hiking on top of a mountain, a walk in the park suffices for him as well. As long as he gets to spend time with you he’s all game. Though, beware: He will likely be touching you in some way the entire time. If it’s raining outside or the weather is bad otherwise then he’ll opt for cuddling on the bed or couch with you. He’s a touchy guy, the only time he’ll let up is when you need to use the bathroom. But even then he’ll whine to no end.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He knows that he can’t be home for too long, so he definitely admires your patience with him. It takes quite a lot of it to date a soldier. Another thing he admires about you would be your loyalty and trust in him. He’s abroad for months at a time, but you don’t question his intentions, believing that he’ll stay with you. And that he will. Soap wouldn’t betray that trust. You don’t message him every time you’re being insecure about your relationship because there’s no need to be. Soap makes sure you feel loved and that you’re the only one.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He’d go about it in the same way he’d prefer to be handled during tough times. He, too, can be a patient man and will listen to your every woe, should you want to tell him about it. Although he may not have the best advice for everything, he’ll certainly try. If you want your favorite dish, he’ll cook it for you. If you just want to cry on his shoulder, he’ll let you while he holds you.

If you’re having a panic attack then he’d try to calm you down immediately, getting you away from whatever might be causing you even more distress. He’s learned a thing or two about calming down, so he’d just talk to you, distracting you from it all until you feel better. This guy has plenty of stories to tell, funny ones too. He’ll calmly talk to you, trying to not have his accent be as thick as it usually may be either so you can understand him.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He’s a more traditional man, so I can see him wanting to get married to you eventually. He dreams of the day he gets down on one knee, pulling out the little box with the ring in it and asking you the big question. Afterwards he’d love to have a dog with you. A rather big one as well, like a St. Bernard or a German Shepherd. Soap loves picturing the kind of future where his dog will lie on top of you while you try to get it off and complain to him about him taking pictures of it. He may love being a soldier, but he adores you and would do anything for you.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He believes himself to be more dominant than he actually is. Sure, he can take on the role of being the more dominant person among the two of you, but he will step back as well if he needs to, or wants to. When it comes to your well-being, though, that’s when he’ll get very aggressive. Someone sleazebag is flirting with you? Soap’s won against plenty of people, so this fucker will be no exception. However, he can appreciate a suggestion you have made as well and will follow directions. Sometimes he does like letting you take the reigns as well, though.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

It’s not very hard to annoy him, even if he can hold himself back usually. But when it all gets too much he’ll get a bit louder for a moment before going quiet. He’ll be passive aggressive the entire time, even if he won’t outright insult you. He knows when emotions are appropriate, so he can control them 80% of the time. Won’t insult you, won’t yell at you either, but he will hiss at you. Give him some time to cool down and think it all over and he’ll forgive and forget. If he’s in the wrong he’ll apologize, if you’re in the wrong he won’t forget as easily without an apology, but he’ll forgive.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Yes, he’s very aware of what you’re doing for him. It’s not a given that someone as wonderful as you stays with him, even less so that you do what you do for him. He’s very grateful and will show such as well. Gives you chocolates and flowers, will take you on dates and outings, will do whatever he can to pay those favors back as well. He loves you and you should know that, so he will cling to you like a koala. Either that or he’ll help you with the chores when he’s not as tired anymore after deployment. Either way, you won’t be alone with doing the chores while he’s around.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

There’s plenty of things he doesn’t tell you, actually. Sure, there are some confidential missions he can’t tell you about, so there’s always that. However, he still does have some pride, so he won’t always tell you when he’s in pain either. He can take it like a man, no need to bother you with that sort of thing. He’s also pretty good at hiding his injuries and how much pain he’s in, if it isn’t too overwhelming. But other than that he’s a pretty honest guy and will tell you just about anything. You deserve to know everything about him, but likewise he expects you to be honest and open with him as well. A relationship can only truly prosper with communication.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

I think you would likely be able to help him with calming down a bit and finding a purpose in life that wasn’t being a soldier. He’s always been an active guy with a knack for chemistry and weaponry, so he wanted to put that knowledge to good use. However, ever since he’s gotten with you he realized that not everything needs to be about work or war. He can definitely appreciate the smaller things with you, like receiving a flower crown from you. You make his life more worthwhile and he finally has something to look forward to that isn’t just work. He has someone to come home to, and that’s worth a lot in his eyes.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

It depends on the person stealing your attention. If it’s, say, Ghost, then he doesn’t mind as much since he knows Ghost has no ill intentions with you. But if it’s some random person then he definitely gets jealous if you spend too much time with them. Starts brooding and getting closer to you, wrapping an arm around you, maybe even kissing your cheek while he’s at it. If it was appropriate, he would growl at the person as well, trying to get them to go away. You’re his and no one else’s. Doesn’t apologize for his behavior either, if he’s jealous then he’s jealous, and that’s that. You’re more than welcome to act the same way with him as well, by the way.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He’s not too bad at kissing. Soap has had a few high school sweethearts, so he’s definitely kissed before and takes it easy. He wasn’t particularly stressed out about your first kiss together either and just let it happen. Although he was being cheesy and asked you to close his eyes before he kissed you. It was a gentle kiss since he wasn’t too sure if you truly liked him the way he likes you and he didn’t want to make you too uncomfortable. But when you told him you felt the same way he quickly gave you another kiss.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

I don’t think he’d make too much of a fuss about it. He’d take you to a nice park on a nice day, maybe have a picnic with you and then casually ask you if you wanted to be a thing together. It’s not too bad if you say no, even if he’d be crushed, but he could just play it off and continue the picnic and be friends with you. Would love to watch the clouds go by while lying on the blanket with you. That’s also when he might confess to you.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Yes, he definitely wants to get married. He wants nothing more than to have a spouse to come home to. With you wearing an apron, asking him if he wants dinner, a bath or you first. It’s cliched, but he’d melt if you ever called him honey. I think he’d think his proposal through, though. It’s important to him, but he still wants the day to be fun, so he might take you to an amusement park and propose to you on the ferris wheel, sincerely hoping it stops while you’re on top and can view the entire city. The marriage would be sweet, he’d be even more doting on you. Would proudly introduce you as his spouse.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Although they’d start out as a joke where he would mimic those embarrassingly sweet couples calling each other embarrassingly sweet things, he’d eventually take a liking to things such as pumpkin, pudding, or cutie pie. Naturally, there’s also things like babe and baby. If he can reference a stupid meme, he will. You’re also his silly little rabbit, no matter how much you dislike that nickname.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It’s somewhat obvious to others. Soap is much more inclined to gravitate towards you and try to spend as much time with you as possible. He likely also won’t leave you alone unless you ask him to. He becomes much more chatty with you and brags about his accomplishments as well. Might even flex for you, even if it’s cringe. You need to realize how strong and awesome he is. Also does you a lot of favors, you don’t need to repay him. See? Isn’t he just the ideal guy? Isn’t he just so dateable?

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

If it was up to him either one of you would be holding the other at any point in time. He’s not afraid to show the world you’re a thing, he will brag about you to everyone willing to listen. Even if he’s being called embarrassing, he’ll just keep on going. The world needs to know just how lovely you are, that you’re the best partner anyone could have ever asked for. Kisses you in public, hugs you in public, cuddles you in public. If you’re comfortable with it.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s a very observant guy, so he’ll almost always know what’s up just by watching you for a bit. You’re happy? You’re sad? You’re mad? Don’t worry, he can pretty accurately gauge your emotional well-being just by watching you for a bit. Does what he needs to do to either cheer you up or keep you happy afterwards.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s somewhere in the middle. While he may not be the most romantic person out there, he does dream of kissing you under the moonlight and dance with you then and there as well. When it comes to making you happy he’d do just about anything. You want a cat? You want some cuddles? You want him to kill that guy for you? Just ask for it, you’ll receive whatever you want, you’re his partner and therefore very important to him. He tries to get a bit more creative with what he gifts you and actively searches for things online. But usually he just settles for showing you Scotland. His country is important to him as well, so he hopes you can appreciate it as much as he appreciates you. He means well, he’s just very easily excited about it.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Oh, definitely. It doesn’t matter what your goal may be, he’ll do what he can to help you achieve it. You wanna work out? He’ll go to the gym with you. You wanna get better mentally? He’s there, cheering you on every step of the way. You wanna be independent? He has connections, you’ll get your dream job and dream pay, don’t even worry about it. As long as you let him help you, he will. And even if you refuse his help he will somehow weasel himself in anyway and help you out, even if you won’t ever know about it.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Although repetition can be a nice thing, he does prefer having something new every once in a while. Sometimes he wants to see another country with you, sometimes he wants to try new foods with you, sometimes he just wants to watch a new movie with you. It doesn’t always need to be the most exciting thing with you, even the small things suffice, but he needs something new. The same routine every time bores him to death and annoys him as well. Again, something small will suffice for some time, but then it’s definitely time for a vacation away from it all.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He likes to think he knows you quite well by now. He can remember things very well too, so if you ever mention a fun fact about yourself, chances are he’ll remember it forever. If you ever want something, no matter how small it is, Soap will remember and you’ll get it eventually. He’s also an empathetic person. He sees you and feels what you’re feeling, at least to some degree. Probably not with the same intensity that you do, but he tries to understand you.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

His relationship with you is very important to him, as important as his friendship with Ghost, Gaz and Price. The four of you are the most important people in his life, along with his family, and he’d do anything to keep you safe and happy. He does hope that you can get along with the other three as well, though.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Has probably tried to serenade you before. His voice is by no means bad, but it’s his accent that makes you giggle. He does lay it on extra thick as well when singing I’m Gonna Be just to hear you laugh a bit. He mostly just sings to you to hear your giggles and see you smile, but he does like singing and whistling to himself when he’s alone.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Yes. Soap loves nothing more than holding you close whenever he can, especially if you haven’t seen each other in months. When he’s tired you can be certain he’ll be all over you the entire time until he falls asleep. And even then he has an iron grip on you so you won’t escape him. He’s a human furnace as well, so while it may be pleasant in winter, it’s hell in summer. But that’s the worst part about him, he doesn’t mind being sweaty as long as he gets to cuddle you. He’s used to being sweaty anyway, he can just shower it off, but he needs to hold you or else he’ll combust.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Whenever he can, he’ll text or call you. He knows it’s not always the time for such a thing, but he’ll do it anyway. Sometimes, he’ll call you just to hear your voice and fall asleep to it. He imagines himself doing all the domestic things to you he can’t do in the moment, it helps him fall asleep when his heart is aching for you yet again. Sometimes, when he’s just on base and not necessarily being deployed, he’ll steal a plushie from you and take it with him, cuddling it in your stead at night. It does help him sleep better.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Soap would literally kill and die for you. He has this sense of camaraderie to him, and that extends to you as well. He’d fight for you, he’d take a severe hit for you. Anything to make sure you’re alright . Soap is loyal to a fault, so even just someone looking at you the wrong way warrants a fight, in his eyes. You’d need to remind him that none of this is necessary, that you’ll be alright and then he’ll calm down. But don’t you ever think that this man won’t blow up entire buildings just to watch you smile. He’ll make his own explosives as well, if he needs to.

#cod #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #This took me almost two hours to write ^^;#I think I'm just gonna do Nikolai and then only accept up to five letters at a time for a character and not do the whole thing ^^;#also this is not proofread I am too tired to proofread this right now #I'm sure it'll be alright though #I was so happy to receive a request for Soap! my brain's been Soaping as of late again!#plus I love that little stinker with all of my heart and much more!#I hope these are alright! feel free to interpret these things the way you would want as well!#I missed Soap he's such a good character I wish I could hold and cuddle him irl as well #but alas my imagination will have to do!#writing about Soap cuddles is definitely cathartic though!

65 notes · View notes

shittywriterbrain · 26 days

Text

read my differently sized gif captions boy

#watch my bertie wooster gifs boy #nobody shouldve introduced me to the do [x] boy meme i love it too much #bertie wooster #jeeves and wooster #gif #dear god the timing on the first two was so shitty i had to redo them #but the internet here is dogshit so it took ages #now the first two are slightly lower quality but idk if you can tell #its hard here in the gifmaking business...#writing these tags while the gifs are loading #been sitting here for minutes #when will my husband (bertie wooster gif) return from the war (be finished uploading to tumblr.com)#YESSS FINALLY #FUCK FUCK FUCK I JUST REALISED THAT BECAUSE THE LAST GIF IS FROM A DIFFERENT EDITING. BATCH IDK THE FONT IS A DIFFERENT SIZE #FUUUCKKK THIS IS SO ANNOYING RN. FUCK FUCK FUCK #but no im not redoing that now #read my differently sized gif captions boy #wait im putting that in the caption idc i can do what i want this is my post.#please show this gifset some love its been through shit its seen things

75 notes · View notes

becauseplot · 8 months

Text

Penciled Lines

(Cross-posted on ao3, if you prefer to read it there. Reblogs still appreciated!)

Missa wakes up, and he thinks he might be doomed. This doesn’t scare him nearly as much as it should.

Missa is awake early—by his own metric, anyway. His nocturnal nature causes “early” for him to mean “early night” and not “early morning.” Regardless, “early” means that Philza is not asleep yet, still going through his nightly rituals. “Early” means that Philza is sitting up in (his? their?) the bed, pillows propped up behind him, notebook in his lap, sketching away.

And when Missa wakes up to the soft scritch-scratch of a charcoal pencil on textured paper, his forehead just so happens to be brushing Philza’s hip.

Missa can hardly breathe.

Oh no.

He knows that if he gives any indication that he is awake, Philza will stop sketching, close his notebook, shift himself over until he is politely seated on his side of the bed, and greet Missa with a friendly smile. Philza has done it before, when Missa wakes up early. That’s how Missa knows he’ll do it again.

Thus, Missa can hardly breathe—his breaths have to be the slow in-out of sleep. He can’t so much as twitch, either. He has to keep quiet and play dead or else he’ll be found out. Seen. Caught living the lie.

“Husband,” Philza calls him. They’re not married. They share a bed. They’re hardly ever in it at the same time. They have a son and a daughter. Neither of them know Missa very well. Philza has had an extra set of armor and a skull on his backpack for months, waiting for Missa. Missa doesn’t even know Philza’s last name.

Philza is a good man and a good friend—and Missa doesn't deserve him. Still, he takes what he can get. Curls around it. Hoarding every innocent kindness Philza extends like a starving creature: the generosity of a backpack fully stocked with equipment; the trust Philza places in Missa to watch the kids when he’s asleep; and now, the courtesy of not moving his hip from Missa’s forehead to ensure his “sleeping” isn’t disturbed. Missa clutches all of these little offerings in his greedy claws and hugs them into his chest, even as the guilt eats away at him.

Because, regardless of the lack of mutual feeling, he loves Philza. He loves him so, so much, and that is why he is doomed. He can’t afford to lose what little he has. He can’t cross that line.

So Missa lies beside Philza, forehead pressed against Philza’s hip, pretending to sleep so he can imagine that they’re not just lying in bed together, but lying in bed, together; and later, when Missa truly wakes, he will sit on his side of the bed and look at Philza’s face soft with sleep and think about how lucky he is that he still has a side-of-the-bed to begin with.

Missa doesn’t mean to drift off. When it starts to happen, he’s hopelessly torn between shaking himself awake and thus giving himself away, or remaining how he is, silently fending off the inevitable. In the end, Missa clings to that scritch-scratch sound of Philza’s pencil on the paper for as long as he can before the fog at last pulls him under.

Eventually, he dreams. In fact, he dreams of the calloused fingers he dreams of every night, hands like his own, an artist of Death, cradling and shading the contours of his face—a softness dashing charcoal across his jaw, and over his cheekbones, and perhaps on his lips, too, if he’s lucky. Defining every edge of him.

~*~

A deep sigh. Phil stops sketching as Missa shifts in his sleep. He tilts his head up so that the tip of his nose is now just nearly brushing against Phil’s hip. The motion disturbs the wild splay of his dark hair, revealing more of his face: eyelashes, cheeks, warmth. Tender blush of something Stygian and otherworldly. New.

Phil’s lips tilt upwards. He turns to a fresh page, and he starts again.

#qsmp #pissa #qsmpshipping #qsmp missa #qsmp philza #i hesitate to put main character tags bc it's shipping content but i think we're all p much okay with that?? we chill??? we chill thumbsup #my fics #ficlet #anyway would you believe me if i told you this took me a week to write. hhourgh.#i'll prolly make small edits as time goes by if i dont scrap this version entirely.#i really like it rn but we'll see how i feel abt it in like a couple hours or a day. the sheer number of times ive rewritten this hhhhh.#this little character/relationship study is primarily for me to try to work them out in my head.#so if this doesnt quite hit the exact vibe you know why.#im still getting acquainted w missa's character but i gotta start somewhere ya know #i didnt actually get to explore missa's feelings of inferiority as much as i wanted to but thats bc i found trying to tackle that As Well-#-as everything else saddled the fic/setting w too many Things and made it cumbersome and muddied the story being told.#so another time perhaps.#anyway i adore them. beloveds.

174 notes · View notes

thatsgonnaleaveamark · 2 years

Text

whumptober 2022 - day 20 ↳ stabbed (alt prompt)

whumpy embroidery time!

#whumptober2022 #no.20 #stabbed #altprompt #embroidery #fiber art #knife #blood #this was such a fun change bc first i was so stuck on wanting to do gifs or digital art or writing #and didnt think of other analogue type arts #been getting into embroidery recently and i love it #first time i did a fill stitch for the blood here actually i love how it turned out #and the texture is sensory heaven for me lmao #and i dont think ive seen much (or any? not sure) fiber arts for these challenges #would love to see more but i get its super time consuming and takes energy to learn and do and the materials cost too #but anyway i enjoyed this a lot #took the pics with my good cam and one on a black sheet and turned the shadows all the way up #so now it looks like a void lol

654 notes · View notes

mightymizora · 1 month

Text

The realisation that I published my first piece of fanfiction… 27 years ago…

And I’ve not been writing it all the time since then sure but god. That’s longer than most of you have been alive right?

#listen so much of skill at this stuff is just growing over time #15 years back when my first collection was published it took me literal years to write a poem #then I worked on speed and consistency #it just. all of this takes time and commitment to craft #and I’ll be learning for a lifetime more if I’m lucky #but also thank you for kind words too #I’ll try and pay it back where I can

31 notes · View notes

thereareeyesinsidethetrees · 9 months

Text

yknow i think a lot about how lucky the stan twins were to avoid radiation sickness

both handle radioactive material (stan uses a hazmat suit, ford uses gloves and we dont get to know if he had a suit too)

ford draws the barrel with radioactive material leaking out of it and glowing. it clearly does not have any sort of lid or covering. could be artistic liberty, but still concerning

actually, lets talk more about him- ford doesnt just say its radioactive, he says its highly radioactive. he raids a presumably abandoned government waste storage building. were making note of this because he thinks its worrisome that its nearby the town. if youre worried about the town being close to it, WHY are you handling it with your HANDS

on a slightly good note, it is implied that fiddleford did not come with him to raid the building. so thats. something

also stan does that ^

both have radiation blasted into their brains (ford multiple times) by the memory gun. ford makes note that the shield on the gun isnt nearly large enough to properly protect the user, meaning that him using it on stan couldve resulted in him being hit with radiation from the gun again

then again, i dont have a radioactive material hyperfixation or anything, so what do i know? (i know that they should not have gotten off that easy)

as with everything, how ford is still alive is an enigma. he is an enigma

#‘how is ford still alive’ was mentioned because he took more radiation than stan did. also the multiverse #he could barely breathe in most dimensions you cant tell me there werent also a lot of radioactive dimensions out there #also its kind of a running thing at this point #talking about how much radiation fiddleford took is completely fair he did take a lot too #anyway tag time #ford pines #stan pines #gravity falls #you could write a fic about that

118 notes · View notes

questing-wulfstan · 11 months

Text

One thing that is so precious and important to me about Hob's character, is his utter regard for Dream's boundaries.

You may call him an idiot for not seeking any more intel on the entity that has apparently made him immortal without his express consent, and that is fair, but to me that is a deliberate choice on Hob's part.

At first, Hob's not even aware he's been made immortal and may have a price to pay for it, and once he does, he expects to be told of his debt when he meets the stranger in the tavern of the White Horse, one hundred years from 1389. Yet on their first agreed-on meeting, Dream does not corroborate Hob's dread for his integrity — of soul and of freedom. He remains entirely cryptic, but encourages Hob to take full advantage of his prolonged life, if only he'll report on it to Dream once a century.

From there, Hob doesn't feel the need for intel on his stranger so as to devise safeguards against him leveraging Hob's immortality against him. There's also in him immense recognition to the stranger for having turned him immortal, and demanded so little a price in return. Whatever his reasons might be, his own anonymity flagrantly matters to Hob's stranger, and it wouldn't be fair to his benefactor to dismantle it behind his back.

Obviously that does not deter Hob's natural curiosity for all things — as well as his desire to get closer to the stranger — from enquiring, but that only shows his contentement with what Dream is willing to give away about himself throughout the centuries.

Now you're going to tell me that running after Dream claiming that they are friends disregarding that Dream's just denied it in 1889 isn't very boundary-regarding of Hob, but I think he has a very different perspective on the event than Dream, and us readers/viewers following Dream's POV, do.

The problem is that Dream knows himself to be (and I quote) "one such as I", and yet how much he has in common with Hob. Hob doesn't.

What Hob means when he calls Dream his friend, is that Dream has given him exactly what he was willing to give him, and shown himself exactly how he wanted to be perceived by Hob, and that Hob's fallen in platonic love with that, with what he assumes is Dream's most authentic self, rid of what taints him in the eyes of the people who know "more" about him. He means "you might have done terrible things that have irremediably skewed your relationship with people that used to love you, but I love the person you've shown yourself to be with a blank slate. I've shown you all my own flaws throughout our acquaintance, you've helped me grow and become better and I don't believe you to be flawless, but in whichever way you may be flawed that you hide from me, it cannot eclipse how much I love you. And I want you to be aware of this. "

Obviously, Dream and us are well aware that "one such as I" refers to him being an Endless, but to Hob it can mean a number of things, and namely, I believe, "I who have done something so unspeakable it cannot be repaired nor forgiven by anything or anyone."

That is why he allows himself to run after Dream and assure Dream that he'll be here in a 100 years' time and if Dream's here then too it'll be because they're friends. He thinks Dream is so lonely because he was deprived of love, and doesn't allow himself to accept now love because something he has hidden from Hob makes him unworthy of it in his own eyes, and Hob is claiming that no, his stranger deserves Hob's friendship and that Hob will patiently wait for him to come to term with it, even if it takes him a century.

Hob just does not and cannot guess that what weights so heavily on his stranger's shoulders and consciousness is his mantle of Dream of the Endless.

In conclusion, Hob Gadling king of respecting boundaries 2K23

#the sandman #netflix the sandman #dreamling #the sandman meta #hobmurphy #hob x dream #hob gadling #meta #this takes a bit of a tangent but is rather coherent I think ?#or am I seeing too much into their 1889 argument ?#Nah I don't think so <3 #Tashina if you see this : yes this was prompted by chapter 8 of the Storms of Life~#I've had this meta in mind for so long but never took the time to write it down thank you for inadvertently prompting me <3

104 notes · View notes

maybeitsalivescribbles · 2 months

Text

VH - Lost Soul

(tw: it’s backstory time for Vampire Hero, and it isn’t very nice. Lots and lots of torture mentions.)

Vampire Hero was in hell, although not for the reasons Villain thought.

According to his watch, he’d been trapped in this maze for hours. Amid the many gifts his vampire nature had given him, a sense of direction wasn’t among them. He’d tried to punch the walls, but that would have taken too long to burst through them. They were even thicker than the skull that had thought of such a stupid thing to build. What he could do was leaving a dent to make sure that yes, he’d been there before. He had his phone on him, but there was no wifi, so no way to use his GPS. He had very little battery left anyhow– he had emptied most of it to send his wife pictures of bats on his way, which was as far as he was concerned a very good and judicious use of it. All of that was already a bore, but to make the game even funnier, the labyrinth was full of traps.

Full of pathetic traps. The ground collapsed under his feet, rocks were falling on him, all of that accomplishing nothing – but it was annoying enough that it disrupted his concentration, preventing him to find a way out. That was not the main problem, though. There were screens everywhere, too high to reach, and Villain. Never. Stopped. Talking.

“What is good and evil ? Do you know for sure what the limit is ? Good is supposed to follow the law, but is the law always good ? Isn’t it pride to do what feels right ? You think you want to stop me, but aren’t you being selfish by doing what you want ?”

She’d kept going like that for hours now. Nails on a blackboard would have sounded nicer. Not only the words were as hollow as a dead snail, but the inflection of that pompous voice was unbearable. Vampire Hero was seriously tempted to hit his head against the wall to stop hearing anything, but that didn’t seem like it’d work in the long term.

At his limit, he stepped up, his lips pinched, and finally yelled back:

“Four words. Grow the fuck up.”

“That’s all you have to say ? You’re not much for philosophy.”

“You call that philosophy ? I hate to break it to you, but knowing that good and bad are social constructs is not some kind of genius insight. All I see is a kid yelling at me that she’s very smart. You don’t give a crap about all of this. You just want to prove to yourself how very superior you are.”

“Do you think you’re better than me ?”

“The bar is low.”

“Oh, because you’re good now ?”

Vampire Hero stopped dead in his tracks:

“Even before, I was better than you."

He raised his arms and bared his teeth, his voice loud:

"You think that you’re bad ? You’ve got nothing on me ! I lured people and made them dance with me over broken glass. I had them rot blindfolded in animal cages for days until they had to lick their own blood. I had cozy nights with them having a friendly little chat in the living room while I was drinking from a corpse, and they knew that if they broke they were next. I made them starve and eat their loved ones. And I loved it ! I loved all of it ! I loved the light dying in their eyes. I thought I was clever ! I am half the reasons you’re shaking at night !”

“Zdiiiiiiiingbonnng,” made the rock on Hero’s head. He sighed in exasperation and stopped talking, wiping gravel from his hair.

“I know about you.” said Villain. “The hero agency’s lackey. Aren’t you ashamed ? You were a great prince, once.”

“Actually, I never was really tall.”

“Go ahead, hide yourself behind this kind of childish retorts. But admit it: you’ve sunk low. You arrest people who weren’t caught like you and you bring them to the authority, like a good dog. Has it ever occurred to you how much of a failure you’ve become ?”

“No.”

“Then why did you stop ?”

“If I tell you the story, will you finally shut up ?”

“Perhaps.”

“Worth it.”

Vampire Hero jumped over a couple of spikes, groaned when he realized that his jeans had a new hole, and said:

“Once upon a time, asshole, I was living happily in my castle all alone. I was rich, I was immortal, I had everything I wanted, and what I wanted was a lot of toys.”

He glanced around him, noticed nothing that indicated he was on the right path, and sighed.

“By toys I mean humans, of course. I chose among the prettiest, kindest, bravest, and I tortured them to death. I hurt them until they didn't have anything to break. I was good at it. I experimented things that would give you and all of you so-called Supervillains nightmares for years. But, you know. Decade after decade, still doing the same thing – I was getting bored. I felt empt- aw man, a dead end again ?”

He turned on his heels, swearing. That was obviously the wrong way to solve his problem. The walls were smooth and impossible to climb, so it had to be arranged. He caught a rock and throw it against the hard surface with a little more strength than necessary.

“Well, anyway. I heard there was a great conqueror who wanted the world. I made my first travel since decades, by curiosity. I wanted to see by myself who could challenge me.”

“And you fought him and you lost ?”

“I told you to shut up. I met her, and not long after I was her lucky, lucky husband. I never had her ambition, but of course I supported her. She encouraged my own little hobby in return, so I became her special torturer. My life was even more perfect, and there was this void inside me, and I hated it, and I didn't understand it. And what happened happened. I tortured the wrong person.”

“Define wrong ?”

“It was the daughter of a vampire hunter.”

“A poor choice.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. The guy was really good at his job. He was already pissed off because of the world-conquering plan, but after I did that, well, he cursed my wife and I – oh, enough with this.”

Punctured by rock impacts, the wall in front of him wasn’t so smooth anymore. Vampire Hero took a run-up, jumped and landed on the top of it. He had a nice view on the labyrinth now. For the first time, he took the right direction.

“ That’s cheating,” complained Villain.

“I don’t care.”

“What then ?”

“What then ? I had a bad century. The hunter couldn't kill me, so he drank my blood to prolong his own life and tortured me. He got good at it, too. I felt what I’d made the others feel, but only at first – after ninety years it was back to nothing. I was 300 years old and reality was fading. I was a leech. I hadn’t made a thing for myself.”

“You mean you went soft because of a little torturing?”

“No. I got old. When you have a couple of centuries, this torture-people-to-death shit doesn’t have the same kind of kick anymore. You try to get creative, but it doesn’t help. You feel nothing. So there’s nothing else you can do but stop. And speaking of stopping, it’s your turn.”

Vampire Hero was now at the center of the labyrinth. He jumped to a silver door, decided he was too done with the whole thing to use the knob, and broke it open.

Villain turned towards him, a small smile on her face, and opened her arms in a welcome gesture:

“Behold, vampire ! This room have been made of silver walls and floor. You won’t be able to enter without squirming in agony and -

Vampire Hero stepped in. Villain braced herself for his cries of pain, but there was none. He still looked bored out of his mind. There was a long silence.

“That’s – that’s not possible.”

Hero laughed. A slow, sinister laugh that made Villain’s eyes open wide.

“What are you ?” she whispered. “You can’t be a vampire. You should be crawling on the ground.”

“Don’t you listen ? I told you I’ve been tortured for decades. You know what an immortal body does when it regenerates back for the hundredth time ?"

He pointed to himself. There was a subtle change in his appearance. He still looked like his unimpressed self, but his usual lightness was replaced by something much darker. It was his eyes. Staring into them was like gazing into some horrible, nameless abyss. There was nothing human about them. They could only belong to some ghastly creature who'd lived centuries, not particularly nice ones.

Vampire Hero chuckled, and Villain shuddered.

"It gets tougher," he only said. "I’ve lost touch and taste. I feel nothing. Nor warmth or cold, and certainly not pain. My body is cut from the outside world. There's not much that feels real to me. You know what it is?”

He walked towards Villain, who took a step back and said:

“I hope you realize you’re monologuing yourself.”

“Habits die hard. I want to go back tonight and kiss my wife on the top of her head, just in the middle. It’s our habit. That’s all that matters. If I have to be on this side to support her, so be it. I don’t care about evil or good, and it won’t prevent me to eat your vocal chords if you’re off again. So, are you going to keep talking or finally shut the hell up ?”

“You know what, I think I’m good.”

Vampire Hero is a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Check the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

43 notes · View notes